I am a simple, flawed human, and part of the open sharing meant to nurture my own self-awareness that I started this thing to help with, is to look myself square in the mirror and admit that sometimes I have some really bad bed-head.
Once, in a group session, I made the distinction between a nightmare and a bad dream. The psychologist really appreciated that, because they are fairly different. I thought I might look a bit closer at how, and maybe add this new one to the mix while I’m at it.
There is a false assumption that someone suffering this, or again any mental health issue, will show it on their face like a rash (that spells “nutbar” across their forehead, maybe?) or in their general, casually observed behaviour.
I’m going to try to pick one of these apart as best I can, in my own inimitable way, with an example from my own life, and with only enough sciency words to satisfy my own love of them yet not confound those who don’t.
Some examples I’ve mentioned here have been explored and will be again I’m sure, as I think more on them or find myself learning from others. Right now, though, I think I might put on some Pharrell Williams and start dancing in my living room like a crazy person because I’m happy.
I wanted to begin getting out for events like this with other first responders, not only because my little hole in the ground was becoming constrictive, but because it’s important and I am eager to become more involved in my own healing, and that of others.
Man, it was hard, though, and is it ever still. There are leaps ahead often followed by stumbling falls backward, but generally there’s that thwumpsnick sound of my feet getting sucked back down into the mud, and there’s me with both hands trying to pull it back out to take another step.
The concept of a safe place, a happy place, the use of it physically or only in minds of those who need one, and its efficacy as a useful and valid tool to manage anxiety are under threat because of a small but vocal bunch of thugs who throw it like they were throwing rocks.
Structure and routine are important to me, and many of those like me, regardless of the severity of their anxiety. It allows a certain level of control that we need in order to properly function, and we’re often unable to respond to last minutes changes very well.
Self-pity is not a mental illness. It can be totally destabilising, inspiring, or have no more effect on you other than a heavier step as you go about your regular day, and it’s both the level and duration of these things that make the difference between it becoming a real concern or just a bothersome moment of self-reflection