The Walls

So I'm taking a 12 week course through the National Alliance for the Mentally Ill. (NAMI) It's very interesting. A lot of information to soak up.

Each class sparks something inside of me. Either about myself, my son or my extended family. We are all crazy as bat shit. Everyone walks a fine line between sanity and insanity. Everyone. There is always that one last trigger deep inside of you that could make you snap. It reminds me of the movie "Falling Down" with Michael Douglas.

There are walls that we all build around ourselves. It's just part of human nature. What do your walls seal inside?

I have always worn masks, my entire life. I learned from a very young age that in order to survive I had to mask who I was. Over the years, the masks multiplied. For each person I am with, I am some other part of myself. Sometimes I'm so far from my true self that I wouldn't recognize my reflection in the mirror. In every situation I wear a mask. I don't know if I know who I am anymore. Deep inside me there is a person, authentic and true, that dreams of being free. Can you imagine being free? To walk through life without the constant self concious badgering, the second guessing and the confidence to just be? My therapist asked me what I would be like, what would be different about my day to day life and even my appearance. The possibilities were so endless that I didn't know where to begin. I don't even dress as my true self most of the time because I have to present myself in a certain way. Then I see someone else, dressed in funky clothes, dyed hair and jewelry everywhere. How do they get away with it? How do they function in society without giving a shit what people think? They are mothers and fathers and have jobs. Yet, there they are, being themselves and saying "fuck it if you don't like it". Wow. Liberating. Have you noticed that the more money you have the more you can get away with? Celebrities, etc. I don't even like people very much and I live my life worrying about what they think and will they accept me. It's exhausting.

Within my walls lies a complicated web of me. It's tiring to hold up the walls and the masks every day. Let me up that equation a notch. It's tiring to hold up the walls of my mental illness every day. Add those together and I am surprised sometimes that I am awake and functioning. I listen to the descriptions of mental illness, specifically bipolar disorder and PTSD. I hear them and each one plucks another chord inside of me. I have lived and do live those every second. When I do "come out" about my illnesses, most people say "I had no idea" or "you seem perfectly normal". I love that last one. I hope I am able to snow most people because I work hard at it. I've had years of practice. No one, and I mean no one, knows what happens inside of me except for me. And even then I perplex myself at times! Certain people in my life choose to ignore the illness and pretend it does not exist. Others don't know what to do with it so they dance around it when they have to.

The chords that are struck when I hear the symptoms, vibrate through my memories and emotions. The days, weeks, months, years that I lived undiagnosed and without treatment were, in a strange way, less tiring. That makes very little sense even to me. Hear me out... During those times, on the outside I could wear a mask as long as I could and then watch it melt away. I could only hold the illness back for so long and then my body and mind would just give in. I could come home and sink into absolute oblivion. Whether that was extreme depression or major mania. I experienced every road and corner of it. It was Hell. Complete fucking Hell. However, without having to hold the walls up, let the inside just pour out, in a way, it required less energy. Today, I don't let the mask melt away unless I'm in serious turmoil. Most of the time I keep it together. Medication helps take the edge off. The rest is all me. Pure strength and will. If I let the walls down...

My therapist says that I should let them down now and then, being sure I am safe of course. She asked if I was afraid of not being able to come back from the edge. Part of me is. I don't want to live there again. I've traveled to Hell and clawed my way back. I can't do it again. Another part of me would love to let the shields down and feel the reality of who I am. To not have to hold on so damn tightly to the image or the masks.

I would be afraid to share with anyone what I would be like without the walls. Craziness isn't accepted in our society. In some cultures, having a mental illness is considered holy. I am a mother, a wife, a board member...we don't exist in society very well if we act looney.

I'm not a ticking time bomb and I certainly don't want anyone to think I'm going to go bonkers on a whim. Once in a while it would be wonderful if someone could acknowledge the work it takes, the heaviness of carrying the load. I am a person with bipolar disorder and PTSD, raising a child with so many diagnoses it's impossible to keep up, dealing with a mother who is more narcissistic than anyone I've ever known. Life is life. Facing it with a permanent backpack filled with bipolar bears is damn near impossible.

The pressure to be someone else, to be something unnatural, is suffocating. Some people ask things of me that require so much of my energy and there are times I have no energy left to give. It's not that I don't care or that I don't want to. Many times I take it all on anyway. Truth is, if I had my way, I'd sit completely catatonic for as long as my mind would let me and not speak to a soul. We discussed that tonight in class. How people with mental illness fall into a need for more sleep, more withdrawl from the world. Why? Because we have to recouperate. We have to rebuild. Replenish the depleted resources within us. "Snap out of it", "other people have it worse", "just think if you were dealing with this or that". Those are not helpful. Seriously, they aren't. It's not pity I need, I hate pity. It's understanding and patience.

I'm a horrible friend. Honestly. I can't stand talking on the phone anymore. It drains the last bit of energy I have in the day. Typing on the computer can happen when the energy spurts come. I can leave it in the middle and come back to it later. I can do it at 1 a.m. or any time the mood strikes me. I love the people in my life. I just run out of energy so quickly. I am with my son 24/7, I have work for the board, I have things to tend to on a regular basis. Then I have the walls of my own to hold up. When the phone rings, it's like having to pull myself out of quicksand to reach for it. I have a couple of friends who call me constantly and chew my ass out for not being around. One friend basically told me that if I don't keep in touch more then I am out the door. They are getting new friends and they have to decide who is where on the ladder of pals. I have another friend who lays such guilt trips on me that it takes even more energy to swim through the phone calls with her. One friend that I just had a falling out with (long story) used to jump on me as soon as I signed on to facebook. I couldn't have two minutes on there to just enjoy it before they were wanting to chat. And if I dared to mention something going on in my life, they would move onto another subject. FB became daunting instead of fun. When I unfriended him, it became more enjoyable there. It was a sad ordeal, but it took some pressure off of me. There are a couple of friends who don't pressure me and I so appreciate them. Even if I don't call them to tell them so.

My blog is here for me to vent, rant and ramble. I think I've definitely done that here. I will probably continue to do that.



To be Free
Soar like a dove
Across a blue sky
Allow the wind to carry me
To far away places
To be Free
To view the Earth
High atop a mountain peak
Wander through the forest
With no particular destination
Drink from a babbling brook
Or dive into a thunderous waterfall
To be Free
To roam the streets
My shadow as my companion
Talk with strangers, make new friends
To kiss the lips of any lover
Without consequence or fear
Never to hide my face again
To be Free
To have no enemies
Nor jealous suitors
Abounding love for every soul
No worries of who's to see me
At every corner I turn
To be Free
To run through the fields
And pick wild flowers
Laugh outloud when nothing's funny
Smile to myself just because
Climb up a hill and roll back down
Leap from a cliff, just on a whim
To be Free
To act like a child
With no one to scold me
Or look down their nose and scowl
Fall in the mud in my best party dress
Dance in the rain
And sleep in the snow
To be Free
Maybe...just to be Me