It's a long way: the loneliness of the mental health illness
Versão em português aqui.
** Before I start, please keep in mind that this story may contain triggers.
I was 17 when I had my first anxiety crisis, right after the panic attacks came. I was scared, I didn't know what was happening to me. I had a little complex childhood, not in the most peaceful home, but regardless all the tense and sad situations I've faced before, nothing was compared to that.
I felt like something bad was growing inside of me, something that I couldn't explain or control, it was big and incredibly painful. It was like a monster, I could feel it eating at my insides and I just wanted to stop it. My mind was confuse, I was scared of people, people I trusted, like my mom. And she was also scared to see me like this.
After that I had a few more panic attacks, I started therapy, I could understand better what was going on, but I still couldn’t control it. The pain was so intense sometimes, that I started hurting myself in an attempt to see if the physical pain could stop the emotional one. Did not stop. I started taking pills. Pills not to make you happy, but to put you down. Lights off, I could feel every inch of my body relaxing, it was a relief. I felt light, I was finally able to rest. Simple rest.
It’s been more than 20 years of crises that come and go, I’m still in therapy, I only take the pills when I need to, my scars are gone, I can control the episodes better, I know what happens to me, but they didn't get better. I’m still learning the triggers and how to best handle them. It’s a lot to pay attention to, a lot to look inside of me and a very lonely journey.
But during these 20 years I also had a couple of boyfriends, I had a lot of parties, I traveled, I made loads of great friends, I graduated and got a master, I moved countries 3 times, I got married and divorced, I worked in many different areas, I got promoted several times, I have a very successful career and most of the people around me never had any idea about my mental health illness.
Many times when I tried to reach out to people for help, they didn’t take me seriously, and for many times I felt that I was like a heavy weight to carryover.
I'm an incredible positive person, I'm solar and colorful, and not only when people are watching, I sing alone at home and dance on the streets. I'm always helping around and pushing people to move forward. And I’m sure that’s not what you imagined in your head when reading my story.
When people think about mental health illness they imagine Angelina Jolie and Winona Ryder in Girl, Interrupted and many other movies and pop culture pieces that only shows this over painted idea of "crazy people". Thanks god we are in 2022 and people now (sic) have more access to information and treatment, and thanks to Franco Basaglia, who promoted the psychiatric reform.
For women the stigmas are even worse, we are still blamed for our hormones and have an "hysterical" reputation. Although we are know for exposing our fragilities, in the modern era we are also known as "warriors", the strong ones and expected to have an incredibly high performance. There is a lot of expectations around family and career success, plus all the pressures around how we look like and present ourselves.
I like to think that emotional health works in the same way as the body health, although the trick here is that physical pain is much easier to see and understand. And I get that, even for me it’s still hard to explain what I feel or why it happens. But all pain must be taken seriously. Nobody likes to be sick or suffering, and sometimes the only thing people needs is to feel welcome in their condition. No judgment, no prejudices, no diagnoses, no advices, just a little bit of kindness and affection. For everything else, there are highly qualified doctors, therapists and our beloved science.
That is just part of who I am, it’s the way my brain works. All these years dealing with this condition also gave me some advantages, I’ve become a lot more self-aware, I really take good care of myself, and I’ve developed a great sense of empathy for everyone. I don’t know what every person might be dealing with, and I really don’t care if they don’t want to tell me, but I will always respect any pain and will be with open arms and heart to accept them.
This road doesn’t always have to be lonely ;)
(It took me 38 years to figure this out, but now I know there are many hands to hold on.)
