“Chi d’invidia campa, disperato muore.”
(Who lives in envy, dies in despair)
What a saying.
I have been guilty of that, unwilling to put on the messy outfit that is my life.
I’ve stared too long and hard at others IRL and online.
My life. It’s what I have, it’s what everyone has. For starters, that’s something to just be happy about. I’m alive.
A life of constant pain is not something to be excited about. I’ve had days where I didn’t really want to just put one foot in front of the other. I have friends who’ve experienced similar things.
But my health is slowly improving and it seems life it looking up. Much of that has to do with my mental health improving dramatically and having renewed energy and hopefulness. I’m now hopeful enough and have enough strength and a changed attitude to fight for myself and take responsibility for myself.
When you come to believe you’re powerless, that affects everything.
It not only makes you feel ashamed, there is not a real point in pursuing a goal. Deep inside, you feel it will all be taken away from you because it has in the past.
It robs you of believing it’s up to you to change your future and make your future what you want. You stopped living your own life a long time ago so why start up now?
Certain kinds of trauma affect you in these kinds of ways. It’s been liberating to discover how much agency I have in my own life, and also how much responsibility. It IS up to me to get healthier. I have providers that are assisting, but even then, I have to advocate for my own health and become educated about the issues affecting me that I’m seeking help for. No longer can I depend solely on someone else to fix my broken life and body.
These are hard realizations to come to, when you’re tired and exhausted and worn down from the chore of just putting one foot in front of the other. Daily survival with a trauma mind feels like climbing a wall without a rope or harness. It feels risky and inherently unsafe.
I haven’t been able to solidly address my more egregious behavior issues or defects until my overall mental health was more stable. I don’t feel confused, bewildered. I have more mental clarity. I feel less scattered and distracted. With those general states gone, I can actually focus now, put plans in place and execute on them. It wasn’t working to try and do it in reverse. I was just sort of treading water, trying not to drown and let my body completely fall apart.
That’s why mental health services are so vitally important for a healthy society. People who commit suicide have often seen a doctor in the previous year for some other ailment, often a ruse in order to just see someone. It’s hard to bring up the reality of how awful you feel, how extreme it is, so many of these cases go unreported until it’s too late. What good is access to physical healthcare unless the mental component is taken into account and services are covered?