Archive | February, 2013

I’m A Big Effing Hypocrite

26 Feb

Holy crap, it’s been a minute, hasn’t it?

I’m here today to admit to you, my loyal friends, family, and awesome random people who have stumbled over me on the internet, that I am a big fucking hypocrite.

I preach on Facebook and in real life about the stigma attached to mental illness – how you shouldn’t be ashamed, how you should talk about it, how everyone should just fucking GET OVER IT, because one in four of your fellow Americans suffers from a mental illness.

And last week, I realized that I’m having a problem practicing what I preach.

You see, my anxiety disorder manifests basically in two ways: I HATE talking on the phone (no really, like, it paralyzes me with fear when I have to  call someone without knowing them. Putting a list of cold calls on my desk is the most awful, painful thing you could ever do to me. I’d rather have bamboo shoots stuck under my fingernails.) And crowds. Crowds & noise & hot FUCK ME UP.

So anyway, last week I met with my new boss, and I had to tell her this stuff, and seriously… I was the crying girl at the table in Starbucks. I can preach to everyone about how talking about it is OK, and YOU SHOULD TELL PEOPLE, I still see it as a flaw in myself. Something totally unforgivable. I guess it’s because the first time I had to talk about it, I didn’t know WHY it pained me so much (my anxiety diagnosis was still about a year in the future), and that truly made it feel like it WAS unforgivable. (The people at the organization I was with didn’t help, either.)

It’s a fear, I guess, that I’ll be judged, or docked points off the bat for having this “flaw”. I’m trying to learn to forgive myself for being “imperfect”, but it’s a daily battle. So now not only do I have this GODDAMN anxiety disorder, but I have to deal with the anxiety that I feel about HAVING THE GODDAMN ANXIETY DISORDER.

I’m lucky. I have this blog, and I have people I can vent to, and at the very worst, I have a prescription that helps. I’m so glad that this disease (this “imperfection”) was given to me and not someone else. Because without my support system, I have no idea what I’d do. Thank GOD that I can protect someone without that support from this godawful mental illness. If it had to be someone… I’m so glad it’s me.

 

Tell me an experience where you had to tell people what the hell was wrong with your fucked up head. Maybe if we share, we can move a step in the right direction to being able to talk freely about these demons.

 

PS: My boss was absolutely accepting of my admission. She didn’t look at me like I had a flaw. Actually, she told me how proud she was that I could be honest with her, and how helpful the knowledge will be as my manager. A small victory, I guess. One step closer to practicing what I preach.