Starting this journal was actually beneficial to my health and I didn't even know it.
It works as place for me to talk to my selves more than talking to an audience, but I do appreciate a great deal that many folks are reading this as I go along on my healing journey. I have another more personal journal I am using for my art therapy classes. It was given to me while I was hospitalized, and it's a lovely leather-bound sketch book. Lots of room for rantings and drawings. For pretty much anything I want to create, even the ugly thoughts I feel are valid and need a voice.
Of course, I have no privacy right now, except for in my leather-bound journal. And I'm not exactly pleased with this you might say. But I know it is necessary for healing.
Not everyone who reads this journal will understand why it's important to me. Why I need to publicly share my journey and thoughts. I have been journaling all my life. Blogs are important and can change the world.
And I am tired of suffering in silence.
I am learning tools to deal with suffering better. To not become washed up in a sea of my own sorrow. A sorrow so deep, most will never understand because they are gifted with better lifestyles and home lives then I had or have. I have plenty of friends who tell me I am an inspiration, because I share my harrowing journey online and don't hide the ugly parts. And I still won't hide them, even while I go to group therapy and art therapy classes. Sometimes I am filled with bitterness because certain people treat me poorly after all the love and time I invested in them. They have abandoned me to my darkness, and insult me by avoiding me like I have a plague. They treat me like I am a walking Holocaust. It's offensive that I have been labelled as such, and that people think it's okay to keep calling me names in that vein. Like I am carrying the Helix virus and being near me will infect you and make you crazy or sick too.
It's not funny anymore, because I really do FEEL like that is how the world sees me.
I am labelled with multiple things: PTSD, Bipolar, Hyper Vigilance, DID, Fibro, Raynauds...The list goes on.
I am a person with deep and real feelings who is suffering chronic pain and mental illness. And leaving me to suffer alone isn't fair or helpful to my sanity. It HURTS me to be treated with kid gloves. To have my independence stripped and judged by the able-bodied.
Stop treating people who have conditions you can't see like they are diseased. Stop treating them like they need to be handled like we are fragile.
I'm not. I am forged from stronger stuff than that. Being vulnerable isn't a crime. Treating people poorly who are living different hells than you IS. And I am tired of the injustice of it all.
We the suffering need true COMPASSION to get through the dark times. Not to be isolated and abandoned. And if you can't offer that, you are the one who is in need of help, not them.
Because trust me, I am getting ALL the help I could ever want and need. I have my next two weeks booked solid with therapy. I'm not broken. I have faced my demons down and I know their faces and I will continue to do so. For me and my wellness.
And today especially, I need to face down my ghosts. And my ghosts are not simple or easy to digest. I have a 7 nation army at my back to help ghost buster the unwanted spirits.
Happy Birthday Mom. You can stay in hell.
No comments:
Post a Comment