Long winded update on me

Today (or yesterday, if you wanna get technical) was not a good day.  Old demons decided to pay me a visit.  They were able to get in because my first thought when I woke up this morning was, "Another day, and you still haven't accomplished anything."

While I ate cereal, I thought, "You know, you have let so many people down in the last year, it's a wonder anyone even talks to you anymore."

I got a call from my mother, but I was too anxious to answer the phone.  She left a voice mail, and it's still there, unopened.  I'm still anxious about it.  I know she is probably just checking on me, but those stupid demons keep telling me otherwise.  It's kinda like that with anyone anymore.  I'm afraid to face them.  I'm afraid of how they will react when they see me.  I'm scared to death that they will ask me how I am doing, and I will have to either lie, or tell them I'm not OK.  That last part can't be wrapped up in a quick conversation, and anything else is vague and always causes more concern that is warranted.

Some folks I know are ignorant about mental health, or the lack thereof.  They show concern, but then offer me advice that isn't helpful, but it is done with such sincerity and concern for my well being that I can't help but be grateful for it.

That being said, I'm not a big fan of these nuggets of "wisdom" some people have been giving me.

"Go to church, and I promise you that your depression will lift.  I'll go with you!"

"Do you think maybe it's because you are gay, and your depression is based on the fact that you really want to be normal?"

"Most depression is caused by the toxins in your food.  Grow a garden, go vegetarian and you will see results immediately."

And my personal favorite,

"I liked you better before you got on meds.  Those meds are nothing but trouble and you will find out quickly that there was nothing wrong with you, except the fact that you are taking drugs."

What I'm going through does have a payoff.  I have made progress in several crucial areas, but I have much more to work on.  The meds are helping, but we still haven't found the right combination/dosage yet.  I'm told to be patient, and I think I am.  Sometimes, however, I feel that those who are close to me aren't very patient.  I know they want me back, they have said as much.  But I want to make sure that before I pick up where I left off that I can be productive in living a fulfilling life.

A couple of other notes, though.

1.  Despite the fact that I have been turning down a bunch of invitations to social events, big and small, that doesn't mean I don't feel better by being invited.

2.  I don't mind talking about my issues, and I don't mind if people have questions.  I think that if more people asked questions it would avoid that awkwardness of trying to pull your foot out of you mouth.

3.  99.9% of the time, I am open for hugs.  Hugs are good.  Hugs are cool.  Hugs are always welcome no matter what.

4.  I am mentally ill.  My illness may not be completely crippling to some, but it is chronic, and it is keeping me from living my life.  But that doesn't mean that I'm unstable, or that I'm any different.  I have said before that I haven't been "me" for a long time.  That doesn't mean I was going about without a shred of sincerity.  But I smiled when I was sad inside, and I laughed when I wanted to cry.  When someone asked me how my day was, I would tell them funny stories full of awesomeness to distract them from the original question.  I dealt with my pain when I was alone, rather than sharing it.

That isn't me.  That isn't me at all.

So, I guess I'm done rambling now.  This was much longer than I anticipated.  My therapist is right, I do need to start writing down what's on my mind.  I've tried so often in the past to get back in the saddle with my writing, and each time I do...it ends in failure.

Ah well, I'm writing now, and that is important to me.  Perhaps tomorrow I will have more to say.  I'll be damned if I know what I will talk about.