I've always been proud to be open about what I am going through, what I am feeling, the feelings I have, how I am coping, or not coping.
I've never struggled to use the words depression or anxiety. I've never before been ashamed of the paranoia I suffer from, or any of the mental health issues I suffer from.
Until recently.
Despite writing about it, and being open about my feelings I, for some reason, struggled to label those posts.
Reading these posts I think is clear to anyone that I'm not in the best place, and haven't been for the last month or so. And I felt open enough to write about it, because to me that was ok. But labelling it "Mental Health" so it shows up with all of those other posts, I didn't feel brave enough to do that.
Why?
I don't know why.
I don't know why I all of a sudden felt so ashamed of myself and for the first time felt unable to add that label because I wanted people to think I was ok.
I didn't want people to click on that link in the sidebar and to be greeted with a recent post. I wanted them to see one from March and to think "wow, she must be doing ok".
Because I'm not.
I'm not ok.
I'm more confused than ever about how people see me. And about how I see myself.
I'm more confused than ever about my role in life. And my role in everyone else's life.
I'm more confused than ever about who I can trust.
I'm confused over why I all of a sudden felt like I shouldn't be open about being depressed and suffering with anxiety.
I was always so proud about being open about it and talking about it. Sharing my experience are helping people to understand themselves and other.
I was always so proud about being open about it and talking about it. Sharing my experience are helping people to understand themselves and other.
For the first time in a while, my anxiety feels it is at it's highest. This is the time I should be able to write about it, to be able to talk about it and to not feel ashamed.
There have been moments recently where I've needed or wanted people to have an idea of what I'm going through, without eyerolling and thinking I'm just a needy over the top mum.
Getting a teaching assistant to pull Charles out of his classroom recently just as I dropped him off because I hadn't said bye and love you as I was sure something was going to happen to one of us that day.
Getting anxious about a share event at Charles' school this week because of not knowing the set up or which room we would be in, or whether or not the classes would be joined together. And not knowing if parents will be joining in or watching or having any role to play. Or knowing if our children are basically being used to prove something since the school has been put in special measures.
Going out recently and asking everyone I could where the best place was to go, the kind of people who are usually there, what drinks do they have, are there many seats, wanting to know a rough layout of the place.
Not being able to go for a walk in the evenings anymore because the beautiful scenery and sunsets are attracting photographers which makes what is usually a quiet route a tiny bit busier. Not very busy, but for someone with anxiety, it is too busy.
I don't want to feel ashamed and I don't want to feel that I have to hide this part of me. I don't want to feel like I can't talk about it or write about it.
It's not a choice to suffer with it, feel it, experience it, and to live with it.
It is a choice to be ashamed by it, and to let perception from others, if that is the case, make me feel that way.
It is a choice somewhat to let others get to me by their lack of understanding.
I can't feed my anxiety with shame and embarrassment as well as everything else. It turns into this bigger whirlwind. It will become unstoppable.
I need to grab hold tight, control what I can.
Throw out thoughts and feelings that don't matter, and think about myself and no else.
Not being able to go for a walk in the evenings anymore because the beautiful scenery and sunsets are attracting photographers which makes what is usually a quiet route a tiny bit busier. Not very busy, but for someone with anxiety, it is too busy.
I don't want to feel ashamed and I don't want to feel that I have to hide this part of me. I don't want to feel like I can't talk about it or write about it.
It's not a choice to suffer with it, feel it, experience it, and to live with it.
It is a choice to be ashamed by it, and to let perception from others, if that is the case, make me feel that way.
It is a choice somewhat to let others get to me by their lack of understanding.
I can't feed my anxiety with shame and embarrassment as well as everything else. It turns into this bigger whirlwind. It will become unstoppable.
I need to grab hold tight, control what I can.
Throw out thoughts and feelings that don't matter, and think about myself and no else.
This is my battle. One that no one else can help me fight, but they can easily join the enemy and I can't allow that to happen.
This is my battle, one I need to fight alone.
Unashamed.
