In 20 years, I’ve never said these words out loud about *this* subject.
I don’t care anymore.
I’ve been struggling for over a year, now. I fell into the deepest depression of my life for over 12 months, and no one noticed.
No one cared that I pulled away, that I chose isolation over socialization. That I chose silence instead of community. No one cared to try to talk to me about it, or to help at all.
(None of this refers to my Nephew, or my children).
I’ve been having a really difficult time since I had to stop taking the antidepressant. My moods are all over the map, no matter what I try to balance. I swing wildly between crushing grief & borderline rage, all the while, flailing chaotically with a happy-faced smiling mask, trying to distract the masses.
Trying desperately to NOT break down into tears at my desk.
I’ve been patronized & ridiculed for my mental illness, told “You should do –*this thing* — and you’ll be Totally healed. If you don’t do this, you obviously don’t want to cure your anxiety, depression, migraines, etc.” #theyknowallthesecrets #becausetheysayso
As though I’ve never done any research into the medical issues I have. Who, ME? No, I don’t do research….. *oozing sarcasm*
As though mental illnesses that are exacerbated by a chemical imbalance can EVER BE CURED COMPLETELY.
I’m so fucking done. I feel like tossing all of my social media platforms (barring WordPress and tiktok) onto the ground before me, dousing it in mental gasoline, & burning those fucking bridges to ash.
I am quickly reaching endgame.
That point where, when you have nothing left to lose, you throw every-fucking-thing to the wind in a last second Hail Mary pass.
When the unknown is preferable to what you can see in front of you, it’s time to light that match, cross that bridge, & toss the flame behind you.
I’m done sitting down for others to try to walk over me.
I’m making plans, & cleaning house.
The silence only gets deeper from here.
Brea's Air 