The Strength of Mental Illness

It is so easy, as one with mental illnesses, to wander through life buying into society’s blanket “mental illness is weakness of character” party line.
It isn’t until the chips are down and you find yourself still battling that you realize, “Wow, those people are full of shit, I am toughing out stuff that has caused others to break.”
Mental illness makes you have weaknesses, no doubt.
But it also gives you a strength, and a resolve, and every time you think you’ve hit the wall of “this is it, I can’t do this anymore”…You keep doing it.

The last five days have been like a kick in the head for me, physically. I have the whole allergy thing in which my nose thinks it’s a faucet. Then I lucked out with bronchitis, the kind that makes you double over hacking up both lungs, a pancreas, and a spleen. Oh and I got hit with that agonizing shark week. At some point, I stumbled and landed in a doorway, thinking my boob took the brunt of it.
Surprise, I have a severely bruised rib. I am fine as long as I don’t move, breathe, sneeze, cough, or have to participate in life.
Which means I am pretty fucking miserable.
After three days, I think it’s getting less excruitating, though finding a comfortable sleep position is challenging. As was trying to bathe my kid last night. Ever played Twister with a bruised rib? And the thing that makes it more fun are the spontaneous coughing fits that make it feel like a steel toe boot is kicking me right in that spot.
Still, amidst my random cries in pain…
I am here, I am managing. I am definitely not bringing my A game. It’s more like a z game. I need to shower but it’s going to hurt to wash my hair, so…delay. I need to take my meds…They’re up high and that’s gonna hurt. delay…
(And funny thing is, when I miss taking them by several hours, all my wonky brain chemicals start rapid misfiring and I become an anxiety riddled paranoia mess like yesterday.)
I need a helper monkey.
I should train the cats to be helper monkeys.

Oh, well. Guess my point is, you don’t know what you are capable of til put to the test. Yesterday I wanted nothing more than to lay at home yet in spite of it all, I went to the shop. he wants me there again today. I promised Nancy I’d changed her wifi encryption at her house. I have to go to the dmv to renew my license.
I don’t want to do this stuff. And for once, I have physical agony as an explanation.
This isn’t a bad mental health day for people to mock.
So instead of caving in to my own need to allow myself to be a victim and take advantage of being out of the game to an extent..
I am going to keep pushing myself. My Z game will have to suffice for now.
Least I’ve got game.


One Response to “The Strength of Mental Illness”

  1. Look haughtily at whoever says that to you next and say, “it’s a neurotoxic disease!”. Assholes.

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