I had a Dr appointment yesterday and had to admit that for the most part, I’m happy with how my life is going. There are a few things I would change (more book sales! somebody please date me!) But I’m happy with the work I’m producing, which is half the battle.
It took a lot to get here. I had to break everything down and then put it back together in a way that made sense to me, without instructions. And I feel like I did some damage to people in that process, which I regret. But I don’t feel like there was much of an alternative. I spent a number of years with the thought of suicide as a constant companion. It was almost a comfort, the “well if it gets any worse I can always kill myself.” I’m not sharing this for sympathy, just to put out the message that if you see yourself in that statement, if you’re having that thought on a regular basis, it doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong with you.
A lot of us hear that voice. And, you know, for me there was a reason for it. I was living a lie and bearing the weight of that was getting to me. But for some people, the thought is just there for no reason they can fathom. But it lies. Things can get better. Maybe you need radical change, like I did. Or maybe you need help from medication. The brain is an organ and it malfunctions sometimes. That’s ok. It doesn’t make you a lesser person.
Yeah, I changed my life and that was a big help, but I did it with the help of anti-depressants and mood stabilizers, which bore some of the weight for my brain while I moved load-bearing walls. And I’m still on them. My brain will never stop being a shit-show, but it’s manageable. That’s a good word for right now: manageable. Not easy, but able to be managed. If you ever find yourself in a dark place, reach out to someone. I promise change is possible. It’s manageable. That voice which seems so tempting does not want what’s best for you. Tell it to go fuck itself, and come out the other side.