I seem to be pathologically unable to compose a short blog post. I always have too much to say. This comes from years of being forced to keep quiet and not express my true thoughts and feelings, which is unhelpful when the atmosphere I grew up in was so unstable and traumatic.
When I do start to open up and write from the heart and soul, everything just floods out. I am desperate to let it all out and to be listened to, validated and comforted.
The problem is that we live in a world where image is everything, and the stigma around mental health issues is still really powerful. I am lucky to have come across lots of recent campaigns to increase awareness of mental health issues and break down the stigma’s attached to them. However, when it comes to telling my own true story, my anxiety gets triggered just thinking of any unintended and negative consequences of being open and honest. “Outing” myself (as suffering from mental health issues) and then being negatively judged, mocked or side-lined for doing so, scares the living daylights out of me.
To try and prevent this, I have spent the last few days trying to build a barrier of anonymity around this blog and my online presence. A virtual wall to protect myself from exposing my true vulnerability and being attacked (I am always on red alert for being attacked) which ironically maintains my alienation mental health issues. I am the same in real life. I create and maintain emotional walls to defend myself from being hurt, but the side effect is being continually disconnected from developing meaningful social interactions and relationships.
This is really ironic, as opening up, on this blog, has made me feel free, energised, and excited. The point of posting my true thoughts and feelings, my story, on this blog, was to connect with other people. I didn’t originally set up this blog with a view to chronicling my battle with mental health issues. It just happened. I still plan to post about other facets of my life. I am more than just someone with mental health problems, but those conditions are a big part of where I am in my life right now.
I currently feel very alienated in my life, so trying to connect with people I can relate to or who are in similar circumstances can only be a positive thing right? If only it was that easy. Anonymity comes at a price, it can maintain alienation, but opening up in a truly honest way, though really brave, can have its costs too.
With all this in mind, let’s try to push back the flood waters of my suppressed inner thoughts and summarise.
I really wanted to post something today as tomorrow is significant for 2 reasons. I will summarise these 2 events now and then publish 2 separate posts expanding on these summaries.
Tomorrow is my father’s 80th birthday. What should be a day of celebration is shrouded in misery and depression, which is exactly what my father, who has depression but denies having it (even though he is on anti-depressants), or that all these “made-up” mental health conditions actually exist, wants it to be.
I have been at my wits end trying to cheer him up over the last few days, weeks, months, years in fact. Nothing makes him happy. No matter what you do for him it is never enough, and he always finds a fault in it and with you. If I buy him a Strawberry trifle he will let me know that Raspberry is his favourite. If I buy him an Apricot Torte he will mention how he only likes Apricot Tortes form a certain patisserie. I offered to take him for a birthday lunch at his favourite café, but he told me he no longer eats lunch (which is not strictly true) and he doesn’t want me to take him out until I have a job (which is his way of guilt tripping me into going out there and getting a high flying well paid job I am actually too mentally ill to be able to hold down).
He has been bullying me and putting me down my whole life. That is at the core of my low self-esteem, which is one of the drivers of my depression and anxiety disorders. He is like the mother in Woody Allen’s most serious film, “Interiors” or like Livia, the mother from The Sopranos. He has constructed this idea that he is a victim and everything and everyone is out to make his life miserable. He has to discount and push away any evidence that counteracts this constructed idea. I completely sympathise with him as a person suffering from depression, but instead of admitting that and trying to work through it, he denies it exists as a condition, denies he has it, and focuses the blame on me and other people around him for his misfortunes in life. He mocks my own attempts to seek therapy for my depression and pushes back any attempts I make to be compassionate towards him.
The question is not about what to do with him. The question is about what to do with me? Why should I be responsible for making him happy and saving his soul from the darkness of destructive depression? I love him and have enormous compassion for him. Yet for all I do for him he just bullies and mocks me and is a destructive influence on me. I think I need to stop now and elaborate further in the main post about this. So look out for my post about my father, me and his 80th Birthday non-celebration.
The second important thing happening tomorrow is my assessment session for counselling talk therapy. I have had various forms of talk therapy over the last 10 years. Not continuously, but for different periods of time, with big gaps in between. The last therapy I was in lasted for 3 years. I really connected with my last therapist and we built a really positive and insightful relationship during 3 years of weekly sessions.
It was prematurely cut short, just when I was really exposed and opened up emotionally, when she got pregnant and had to end her practice. I felt like a patient in hospital being left cut open on the operating table, mid-operation. That was in April 2013. The last 11 months have not been easy. I realised I needed to continue therapy, for the sake of my own emotional well-being, my marriage and career prospects. My social anxiety has only gotten worse. I only feel safe and comfortable locked up in bed, the toilet or at him, alone, watching TV, or in my study. When the telephone rings I get nervous. Having to deal with other people makes me anxious. I assume everyone hates me and is out to get me. That I always fail other people, let them down, and they will punish me for it. I am also really struggling with containing all my negative thoughts and finding the focus and motivation I desperately need in order to finish my courses and get a new job.
I am very apprehensive about starting therapy with a new counsellor. I really believe in psychological therapy and think it’s far harder than anyone realises. I will elaborate further my thoughts on talk therapy and my own experiences in another post. So look out for that!
Enough! I have already gone past my limit of a one page word document blog post! I need an editor.