The past few months, the doctors and therapists have been worried about me. They keep talking about this empty nest thing. What?! My sister tells everyone that the day I gave birth to my first child, my past life ended.... Continue Reading →
I am a woman with some extra weight. Lots of extra weight.
I know your first thought is, go on a diet. I carry the kind of weight that doesn’t show up on the scale. But how do you put your head on a diet?
My extra weight is mental. I’m mentally obese. I carry so much “baggage”, that I can’t even stand up straight. I can’t move freely. I can’t breathe properly.
There’s 100 pounds of guilt. 100 pounds of pain. 100 pounds of shame. 100 pounds of self hate. 100 pounds of secrets. And the rest is just the “monster”.
I’ve been to many doctors. The heart Dr said lose weight. The internist said lose weight. Even the weight loss surgeon said lose weight! But none of them recognized the “invisible pounds”.
Where’s the “diet pill” for mental obesity? Where’s the gym for mentally obese folks like myself?…
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Guess what? Did you know that depression is real? Did you know that mental illness doesn’t know tax brackets or race? *insertsideeye*
Demi Lovato. Prince Harry. Lady Gaga. Gwyneth Paltrow. The list is much longer.
Let me start by saying that my heart goes out to ANYONE struggling with a mental illness. It can be unbearable. It is an experience that is almost indescribable.
I just don’t want mental health to get caught up, and lost, in the headlines.
I’m a minority. I’m one of the lower class folks that can’t afford the top of the line healthcare. When I started my search for psychiatric care in New Jersey, I was mortified. No we don’t take insurance. Yes, you have to pay a huge copay. No we don’t help with drug coverage. And my favorite- your coverage only allows you to visit the clinic in west hell, that only has…
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I woke up. And I was alive.
Most people feel joy. Most people will probably judge my thoughts and feelings. Sorry. I’m not most people.
I’ve heard the “list” – You have lots to live for. Suicide isn’t the answer. You have to keep fighting. Think of what you will leave behind. Pray. Give it to God.
Truth is, I’m new to these thoughts. I’ve always just wanted to, maybe, just not be here anymore. I was “passively suicidal”, is what the doctor said.
Now I’m “actively” or “dangerously” suicidal. And it’s some scary shit.
This wave of emotions….
There’s no explanation. No rhyme or reason. No intellectual processing.
Just pure, raw, unfiltered pain.
And no amount of medication, therapy, prayer, coffee, or discussion is enough right now.
I don’t want judgement. I don’t want pity. I don’t want patronizing concern.
I just want it to stop….