As I lay in bed last night, tears quietly streaming out of the corners of my eyes, I wondered what happened to the woman who wrote the last few posts. It feels like someone has broken in to my home and stolen my weapons. Has this insidious disease decided to laugh in my face and show me to be a fraud? Was it all just mania that was giving me a false sense of well-being? Or perhaps I really am what someone once said to me, “a mental health pariah.” (I had to look that one up, its usage didn’t make sense at the time.)
The Mighty posted an article, 18 Clever Responses for When People Say Mental Illness is ‘All in Your Head’ that a friend and I were discussing, which then prompted me to think of the things people say to me to “help” me. You know the ones – “smile, you’ll feel better” or “it could be worse” or “change your attitude.” The one I use on myself, which someone said to me a long time ago and has stuck ever since “You’re not trying hard enough.” Is that it? Is that what’s happening now?
Monday I have an appointment for a medication review of this new med I started (which is actually a slightly different form of one that recently stopped working). Maybe I wanted it to work so badly that the placebo effect took over and it actually did work for a while. There’s a catchphrase that’s been around a long time, fake it ’til you make it. It’s been both vilified and lauded. Maybe if I can do that for just a few more days, my doctor can help me figure this out. Until then, I’ll read my own posts again, perhaps I can inspire myself…or perhaps it’s all bullshit.