Chronicles of a Sh***y Adulter Part 2: Dealing With Mental Illness

chronicles of a shitty adulter

I believe another factor into my shitty adulting is because I am just now being able identify I have anxiety, like panic attacks can't breathe anxiety.  Why am I just now being able to come to terms with this mental illness of mine?  Because no one ever wants to deal with it.

Growing up, me and my mother would get into these pretty chaotic fights. I don't know if this is like every mother and daughter during a girl's teenage years, but talking to my mother was possible.  And during these fights when I would cry and get upset my mother would say I was being
melodramatic.  Why the fuck do I have to be melodramatic because I'm passionate about how I'm feeling? Especially when you're saying things that you honestly shouldn't say to your child.

With that being said, this is why I don't like to disclose my feelings, maybe this is good in some situations, but I know this is bad for my overall state and being.  I don't like getting close to people at all, I'm considered non nonchalant and "heartless" and I tend to let things bottle up until I explode, whether it's justified or not, I don't like to be in that mental state.  It doesn't feel good at all.

In this society, it seems it's easier to treat people who have drug problems but when we talk about mental illness no one ever wants to get down to the route of the problem.  I remember when I revealed I was pregnant (check out part one of the chronicles). Instead of addressing the fact that because I was so depressed was part of the reason why I hid my pregnancy the hospital staffed stereotyped me as being some type of drug addict.  Apparently that was the only logical reason as to why I could hide my pregnancy.  After the fact when I went to my doctor about a year or so since Aubrey had been born, I told him I needed something, whether medicine or coping methods, for my anxiety.  I was told verbatim that it was probably postpartum depression and that it would pass.


So is this how doctors make all of their money?  By making me waste my time and money my insurance company has to pay just for you to fucking tell me that I PROBABLY just have postpartum depression and then you don't even help me with that problem, like bruh! part of the problem when it comes to addressing mental illness.

How am I suppose to be able to function as somewhat of a conscious adult when part of the reason why I can't is because no one wants to help me treat and cope with a serious problem that affects the
way that I'm suppose to function as an adult?

Anxiety is a big deal, for me, and anyone else who experiences it.  Anxiety for me can hinder my interaction with my daughter, which is a big no no, my productivity, and motivation in life.  I just wish someone would realize it, once and for all.

I believe the reason many of us with depression, anxiety, or any mental illness are afraid to disclose how we feel with others is because we get treated like shitty adulters for doing so.  We get stereotyped into being in this category that having a mental illness means you aren't capable of doing normal things.  In actuality, we just need the space to vent and cry without being judge.  Is that too much to ask?

I think what I'm learning on this journey is to be more open about how I'm feeling.  I try to let everyone around me know what my anxiety entails so that way when I do have an episode, it's not such a shock.

Until next time...this is the queen of shitty adulting, signing off.


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