I try to talk about mental health and not gloss over the truth. I’ve been doing that for years, and will continue to do so. It’s not always easy, and there are times when I wish a simple “I can’t do x tonight” would do. But for the most part: there shouldn’t be a stigma attached to mental illness, and no, telling me I don’t “look” mentally ill really isn’t helping. It’s not a compliment.
So anyway. I’ve been given a boatload of different diagnoses and medications in my days. Not all of them were correct, obviously, but the current labels are recurring major depressions, generalised anxiety and agoraphobia. I take four kinds of medications, one of them twice daily. I can go outside on good days. I have a very low threshold for stimuli (sounds, scents, movements) and voices often turn into noise rather than words. I have a lot of limitations, but I have a garden that help me, I craft to calm my brain when I have trouble keeping it from wandering in a hundred different directions (“I feel a little crazy today” or “my brain is everywhere and I can’t make it stop” are both very real things I say) and when I can control my environments I can be quite productive and feel almost ‘normal’, whatever that means.
I know people don’t blog the way they used to, these days. I don’t care. I think I’m going to use this blog that way anyway. At least until my brain starts wandering in a completely different direction.