When It Rains

Image courtesy of Stockvault.

Image courtesy of Stockvault.

Having good mental health is a lot like juggling – I do both poorly.

Whenever I think I’ve got a handle on things, something comes around to remind me that a little thing can just knock everything out of whack. For those keeping score at home, that’s a lot of moving things that have sharp edges which can put an eye (or something else) out. Some of them are less metaphorical than others. At any rate, it’s tough having an occasional reminder that one’s head can spin out of control. Figuratively speaking, of course.

Writing about mental illness also is a bit embarrassing. Despite the weird looks one might get from people when talking about it (I wish I was kidding), it’s important for people who have these illnesses to express it in some way. I’ve neglected that here because too often I can’t discuss things in a way that people most likely will take poorly. So, the net effect is that I’ve generally stopped doing it. That’s kind of been a mistake.

My recovery – despite its lasting over two years now – is not going as well as I want it to. On good days, I get many different tasks completed. On neutral and bad days, I get hardly anything for my own personal betterment done. Some of it is medication getting in the way, and other bits of it are due to the many other tasks I perform in addition to writing. While I don’t necessarily mind doing these other tasks, they are occasionally getting in the way of my convalescence.

Of course, I’m also adjusting to actually going somewhere on Sundays now, and last Sunday I got home quite late. I couldn’t tell my family that I was at a meeting of godless heathens of which I share many opinions and views both religious and philosophical. To do so would cause a stir at the least and a ruckus at worst. Naturally, I’m putting this lightly. The reality is likely to be much worse. Suffice it to say that some of my family has a problem with Penn and Teller being on TV; I cannot imagine that sentiment translating nicely to finding out a family member agrees with those magicians about the existence of deities.

The anxiety caused from such a small thing cascaded into a much larger depressive episode. To paint an accurate picture, imagine anxiety being the boombox-toting, jack-hammering bulldozer driver along the crest of a precipitous Alpine slope. The ensuing avalanche is depression undergoing its natural effects to silence the offending noisemaker. In this case, I basically went into a major episode and acted without being able to curb my melancholic enthusiasm.

Some other things helped too.
I’ve come out of last weekend realizing that I’m kind of sick of seeing memorial services and prayer-fests for the victims of whatever tragedy that’s getting headlines that day. I’m also put out by people who decide that doing nothing or the hardest thing possible is the RIGHT ANSWER(TM) to said tragedies. At some point, I want to address that, but I haven’t come up with a fair way of doing it on my blog. Right now, I’m of the opinion that I need to stay away from clicking on tragic headlines. I’m also of the opinion that I need to stop writing about them, as I’m not helping anyone by typing things on my keyboard.

Some other ancillary issues contributed, most of them reminding me of problems I had when I was a Christian. I think I’ll write about some of them, because they’re important things to mention about faith. Most notably, they’re worthwhile concerns regarding the alleged benign nature of religion. Certainly, I think they need to be considered by anyone critiquing the Christian faith.

At least I did some other stuff.
I got some more improvements to my actual author blog, and I’m trying to ramp that up a bit. That’s where I’m going to be doing my publicity for my novel. Since I’m not using a pseudonym with it, it has no possible links to this blog here. People who are interested in my fiction writing can email me. If I know you well enough, I might send you the link to it. Please do not get offended if I don’t send it out; I blog about mental health here, and I can’t afford to have my autonomy here compromised.

That, and I live in a part of the world where people pray for rain. They tend to frown upon those that don’t send mental thoughts to an alleged deity in support of clearing up a drought.

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12 thoughts on “When It Rains

  1. I was actually composing (in my head, at least) a post about all the tragedy and how people are reacting to it. It’s a tough situation for everyone. In writing it, I hoped to get some thoughts in order to help myself. The click-bait is the worst. We can’t look but we can’t look away.
    You are in such a tough situation with the religion thing, both family-wise and, if I’m reading right, even geographically. Where I live, the only time I hear a word about religion is when the Jehovah’s knock on my door. And even then, the nice Jamaican man who visits a few times a year talks to me about my health and family more than the bible.
    As for anxiety and depression, though I haven’t dealt with either for a prolonged period of time, the only thing that really helped when I did was mindfulness. I’m not here to preach, suggest, or guide, however. At least not unless you ask. Only to wish you well. Hang in there, my dear. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    • Sadly, the tragedies and circuses surrounding them will continue until people actually do something. For me, I don’t think I can handle watching people say one thing and then fail to back it up with action. So, I’ll just take care of myself, and do what I can do.

      And JW’s are everywhere. The ones here are fairly nice, usually just handing a pamphlet and then getting back in their cars with the A/C going.

      Like

  2. I’m glad you are around. You have no idea how much you’ve helped me writing about your experiences. I understand how embarrassing it is to write about having a mental illness so I want to applaud your courage.

    Oh, your description of anxiety is so right-on. Damn.

    Liked by 1 person

    • This is the first time I didn’t get back before they did, so I just avoided the question. I’m considering giving them obviously bullshit answers, like saying I went out to fight crime while working at a male strip club.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. In some ways, it’s difficult to imagine what you’re going through because you write about it so eloquently. Nonetheless … hang in there, SB. Better days ARE coming. Slowly, perhaps, but i believe your resolve will keep you going until then. And I add my *hugs* as well.

    Liked by 1 person

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