For Those With Disorders and Those Who Love Them
I suppose I should start this post with a confession: I have ADHD and Major Depressive Disorder, a combination that lets me think really fast about what I hate about myself, want to sleep for the entire day while being unable to stop blinking, and at certain points cry and giggle uncontrollably.
I’ve had a lot of hard years dealing with this, and my darling husband has had to suffer through it with me. It was really bad the first few years after the breakup with my abusive boyfriend. I was unmedicated and stumbling through the days, failing school and unable to hold down a job. I went through fits of rage and depression, and even though I was beginning to accept what had happened to me, I was still completely out of it.
Things have gotten better, but I have to admit, I’m still ashamed of how I used to act, especially toward my husband. And even now, when I forget my meds, I get to a point that I can’t even handle myself.
I suppose it’s not fair to those who love us with mental disorders. They try to comfort us, to take care of us, and often times they get no love back. Oftentimes, we’re angry at them when they can’t handle the situation, like that was what they were put on this earth to do and that they are failing us. We can’t handle the fact that they get angry or upset or want to have some space.
What I mean to say is, we all have a responsibility to mitigate these disorders. It is our responsibility to try our damnedest to take our pills, go to therapy, and understand which situations we can’t handle. We should also try to comfort those who comfort us. We’re all part of the human experience, and we all deserve comfort and love.
I understand the anger. I often feel as though I’ve lost control of my life, and that I’m just a walking mess. I hate my pills. Sometimes I throw them, and sometimes I neglect to take them just so I can be in control. I hate therapy sometimes. I hate that I need it. What right does my therapist have to talk to me about my problems? And sometimes I’m angry at my husband for not having these problems. How the hell did he get so lucky? Why is he able to go everyday without pills or great sweeps of emotion and physical backlash? Why is it that even when I take my damn pills, I still have problems?
It’s not easy. I’m scared of losing my mind completely. And my fear comes out in ways that I don’t mean. But I try… so hard… not to take it out on my loved ones. I try to do my best everyday. Because it isn’t their fault that I’m sick. Their only fault is loving me and wanting to help take care of me.
So just take the time to understand how hard it is for the people who love us to see us go through the pain that we do, to have no way to help us. They are scared and angry too! They want to fix everything and have no way! It’s fucking miserable for all of us!
But also understand that they are there because they love us and there is something about us that they are seeing beyond the disorder. We have lives and talents that they appreciate. They want to be with us, despite the suck-tastic days where we can’t handle where our minds go.
Be happy we’re so lucky that we have people strong and loving enough to stick by us.