In July I wrote about how I went back to therapy and how admitting I needed to go was therapeutic to myself. 8 months later I'm doing a little better, but some days are better than others. I know many people say that with a laugh at the end, but people who live with mental illness this phrase makes us vulnerable, it makes us feel weak at times.
Yet 8 months later, some days are better than others.
It wasn't until a few months ago when I noticed I needed to up my medication. I was having multiple anxiety attacks a day, I was either sleeping too much or not sleeping at all, I was constantly sick to my stomach, I wasn't eating enough or eating too much. I wasn't motivated to do anything and honestly, I'm eager about learning something new, I always have been. I wasn't going out of my way to do something I love, I was going to class, eating, and then going to bed. I had a solid autopilot routine.
It was when I was laying in my bed for three hours, the sun going down by the second hour and I was just lying in my unmade bed in the dark—that's when I realized I need to take care of myself and up my meds to get me through the simplest tasks.
The hardest part with mental illness is admitting you're not doing okay and you need a little help.
My doctor simply said, "We'll up them and give you a kick in the ass", and that's exactly what I needed and more. I think I went months not wanting to admit that I needed help because I was scared of upping my meds, I was scared of not being okay again.
Two weeks later after upping my meds, I'm starting to feel like myself again. I'm dancing in my t-shirt and underwear in my room again. I did laundry, did the dishes, cleaned my room and wore jeans all in one day. That day, I felt exhausted still, but really really good at the same time. I felt like I was getting back on my feet and not lying in my room in the dark for hours.
I'm starting to realize that you can be happy and sad at the same time.
That's what living with mental illness is like and I have to be okay with that.
Nothing is wrong, I'm doing nothing wrong. I can't see the sunshine all the time, but I can enjoy the rain, too. I'm going to live with mental illness my whole life, thanks to genetics, but I'm starting to be okay with it all. Stressing about something I can't change is a waste of time and giving me unnecessary anxiety. I have to remember the pills are helping me and not labeling me. The pills are just an extra kick in the ass, and the pills are helping keep me alive.
Be okay with not being okay. The meds aren't the end of the world, I promise. They're there to help you. Accept the help you're capable of having and take care of yourself.