I’ve denied it for years. YEARS.
“It won’t happen to me. I’ll be careful. I’m not the same.”
I blamed it on stress. Anxiety. Things being tense at home.
“It’s not so bad. It’s not that bad. I’m OK.”
Fact of the matter is, I’m not OK. My mood swings have gotten impossible lately and worse as I’ve gotten older. Lucky me, I drew the mental illness lottery for my genes. My grandmother, my mother and my aunts…all have symptoms of mental illness. My dad told me that, as long as he’s known my mom, she’s always had the signs…it just got worse over the years as the stress added on and she grew older. Because if an illness goes untreated, it doesn’t just go away.
My mom was 22 when she met my dad. I’m 24…almost 25.
It’s not just my mom’s side, though, god bless ’em, they’ve hit the jackpot when it comes to this. My dad’s older sister has been in and out of hospitals basically her whole life…but it was her dad that really fucked her up when she was younger. The fact remains: She needs medication.
The fact I’ve been denying…
I need treatment.
I’ve never been more terrified of anything in my life. For the past few years, I’ve told myself that I don’t need treatment…I’ll be OK…I can handle this.
I can’t. I haven’t. I just get worse.
I don’t want to lose ‘me’. I’m terrified of treatment not helping, or getting the wrong treatment that leaves behind a piece of me without me even realizing.
There is so much I want to accomplish in my life. I have to learn to live with this if I want to do that. I have to find out my options and stop denying myself a normal life.
Unfortunately, receiving medication doesn’t alter my genes so the chances of me having my own child is slim to none…because there is no way I’ll be responsible for passing this on.
I might take you along this journey because this blog? My friends? My lifelines?
You are the only thing that reminds me, everyday, of who I am. And who I want to remain.
I don’t want to lose me…which is why I have to do this.