I have suffered from Depression, PTSD, and Anxiety my whole life. It is no joke when I say I would rather be in pain then be anxious. I had a partial pancreatotomy and two days after they sliced me open from sternum to belly button I stopped the stronger pain meds. I stopped pushing the button for Dilaudid because it made me nauseous and anxious and fuck all that noise forever and ever Amen.
I do not go gently into the good night. I am a crazy, screaming, crying, whining, foot-stamping, spinning, repetitive, selfish, furious, and terrified hot-ass mess. I really think I did a decent job in life managing my mental health issues. I sustained jobs and friends and relationships, but I worked at it hard and went to therapists, counselors, and psychiatrists for years (I still go).
Fast-forward to today and add a slew of physical medical issues that are also fucking invisible. I really want to kick someone’s ass to stop the Dysautonomia, POTS, Diabetes, MCAS. I have a lot of acronyms for what is wrong with me and it isn’t cute like Sesame Street.
I circle back to myself, I circle back to singing and writing because I don’t know who I am without them. More to come….