Life Isn't Supposed To Be This Way

Why was I gifted with the joy of mental illness?

I wish I knew😢

I had a lovely mental health incident yesterday.

But first, a quick rundown of my mental health journey. Some (many?) of you have read about this before. I'll try to be as fast as possible.

I spent the summer of 1993 (I was 16) in a mental institution. Which I checked myself into following a failed halfhearted suicide attempt.

Funny side note. I was diagnosed as Bipolar in the hospital, and they suggested Lithium. Dad said no. I wonder what life would've been like if he'd said yes.

Oh well.

I was in therapy for two years before the attempt and a year following it. Needless to say, I never allowed my therapist, a good guy, to see more than the surface of my issues.

Following my stay, I was "alright" for about 12 years. Actually, I was white-knuckling it, and there were many near breakdowns that I never talked about until I entered therapy two years ago.

I had a nervous breakdown in 2005 that lasted (on and off) until 2011.

Since then, I've been medicated (it works sometimes), and I've been seeing a psychiatrist and psychologist since 2019.

I'm still a complete mess, but I understand why I'm such a mess.

Well, that wasn't short. Sorry.

Now, on to the most recent near breakdown.

Yesterday I was waiting for the mail to come.

I was waiting for something important. The mail came, but there were people outside, and the idea of them seeing me threatened to leave me paralyzed with panic.

The main box is mounted next to the front door, so I stuck my hand out and tried to fish the envelopes out.

They all spilled out on the porch, and I was so panicked.

It was so horrible (to me) that I had to yell for my kid to get them. He came and did the deed. He's always been my good right arm, and (as much as anyone can) he understands my situation and doesn't judge me. Not that any of them do. He's just been here the whole since I made my struggle public.

Would you like to know the kick in the nuts part?

The letter I was waiting for wasn't even in the mail.

I've been asked in the past why I write these personal bits about my personal life.

Here's the only answer I can give.

I write these missives for two reasons. One, because talking about my struggle publicly helps me work through things and clear the chaos in my head. Second, I hope my story helps at the very least one person with their own mental health journey.

-Josh