Normally when something big happens in your life, you have your family to support you through those tough times. When I got sick, at first, the support was there. There was my ex boyfriend who was doing a really good job of taking care of me, He witnessed a lot in the beginning and I don’t know how much a person could really handle when it comes to taking care of someone with a mental illness. I told my family when things got really bad, like this is a life or death situation bad. That’s when my mom helped me find a psychiatrist because doing it on my own wasn’t getting me anywhere and she knew someone that was referred to her from before. I met with the psychiatrist, then I was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder. I remember it clearly, my support system should have been my mom, my sister and my ex. Since my ex lived close by, like same neighborhood close, I think my mom and sister entrusted my care to my ex considering he was doing such a good job of taking care of me through all of this. I mean even my therapist spoke to him about my condition and how serious it was. My mom would tell me “teach me how to take care of you.” Uhm, this is new to me too and I don’t know what is going to happen so I don’t know how to take care myself, how am I supposed to tell you how to take care of me? Why don’t you do your own research and learn how to take care of me? So I lose my mom and my sister as a support system.
I know I went through some really crazy, rough, wake you up in the middle of night night episodes but that’s what you get when you are diagnosed with mental illness. I know this was a lot for my ex to take on, it’s a lot for one person to take on. Usually you have a group of people to help you through things. At some point I think my ex couldn’t take it anymore because he just left. Left without warning, no saying goodbye, no explanation, no nothing. I was left to fend for myself. My support system was gone.
I don’t know how I did it, but somehow I got through it, I’ve made it to this point. I was forced to pick myself up and stand on my own two feet and figure out how to manage and deal with a mental illness while going through the normal phases of life. Of course with the help of medication and therapy and the companion of two cats and a dog. Four years later and I’m still here, I’m still standing on my own, I am my own support system. I got me through what I thought I would never get through and then some. I don’t know exactly if I’ve beat this thing or not, I just know that I’m still here and I’m still standing.
One thing I will say though, to this day, I can’t even discuss any of this with my family. I know I shut them out before but I did try letting them back in. But none of them even tried to talk to me about any of this. How I’m feeling, what I am going through, how am I? To this day it’s as if it never happened. All they know is that the medicine is working and I’m my normal self, whatever that may be. I post on my Instagram and Facebook on days when I am depressed and not even a word from them asking how I am doing. It’s different when you just simply ask a person a normal “How are you?” versus “How are you doing mentally?” Just because my medication is working doesn’t mean I don’t get depressed or have an episode. Of course when that happens I just hide it and make it seem like everything is okay because to talk about it would cause awkwardness or misunderstanding. Maybe is should be like I posted before, (Lets Pretend) Lets pretend that I don’t have this mental illness and everything will go back to normal. Everything will be okay. But the reality is I have this mental illness and it isn’t going away anytime soon.
As usual I will just take care of myself and whatever problems come my way. I’ve done it before. I can do it again. No matter what it takes. I will survive. I will stand on my own.