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Rated: GC · Book · Emotional · #2181458

A journey of self-improvement - or not.

Sup? I'm Char.
You may know me from timeless classics such as
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and
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I blog for things like
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FORUM
30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS Open in new Window. (13+)
WDC's Longest Running Blog Competition - Hiatus
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JAFBG Open in new Window. (XGC)
Because real life isn't always roses and sunshine...
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Believin' all the lies that they're tellin' ya
Buyin' all the products that they're sellin' ya
They say jump and ya say "how high?"
Ya braindead, ya got a fuckin' bullet in ya head


November 9, 2019 at 12:14pm
November 9, 2019 at 12:14pm
#969323
Artist: Korn
Song: Dead Bodies Everywhere
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*Treefall3* *Leaf* Prompt via "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUSOpen in new Window.: Write a stream of conscious entry starting with the words “I wish...” *Leaf* *Treefall3*


This prompt is just begging for a rant. *Wink*

I wish...

I wish there was a cure for mental illness. I wish people who didn't have moderate-severe mental illnesses could experience 48 hours in the brain of someone who does. It's something entirely inexplicable. Having your life completely dictated and controlled by an unseen force that you can't escape diminishes your quality of life so much. It makes the people around you miserable. Not only does it ruin your life, but it also ruins other people's lives. You start to wonder if people would be better off without you in the long run. What do you add to anything? Finicky energy? Emotional outbursts? Nervous breakdowns? Hospital bills? Psych bills? Medication costs? Mental illness is a wrecking ball that loves nothing more than a quiet evening to utterly destroy. How long can someone live with that? How long can other people surround themselves with someone who lives with that?

I wish there was someone or something that could help, but I've totally given up on that concept. No one and nothing can help someone who has a mental illness that interferes with their daily life. I've been on more medications that I can count. So many adjustment periods, so many symptoms, so much withdrawal. I have to take xanax constantly just to be calm enough to half function on a daily basis. I've seen so many psychs and therapists. Rehashed the same shit so many times in dimly lit rooms with overstuffed couches and 2-inch blinds.

I've read countless self-help books, done countless workbooks. I've done cognitive behavioral therapy, dialectical behavioral therapy, acceptance and commitment therapy, exposure and response prevention therapy, anger management, rehab, group therapy, inpatient therapy, partial inpatient programs, art therapy... I've tried meditation, mindfulness, deep breathing exercises, grounding techniques, yoga, exercise, dietary changes, lifestyle changes.

There's nothing anyone can tell me that I've not already heard. There's nothing anyone can do that someone hasn't already tried with me. At that point, what's left? Just continue living in misery until I've successfully pushed everyone away? Confront the people from my past who I blame for a large portion of my issues? Hold people accountable who don't even care in the first place? Or sever ties completely and become that much closer to totally alone?

I wish I could take the people who made me this way and force them to see what their actions have done to me Clockwork Orange style, if necessary. It's not fair that people can do whatever they want with you and then just skip off into the sunset. It's not fair that they get to go on living unscathed lives while I'm stuck in a cavernous rut for infinity. It's not fair that the people who do give a fuck about me have to witness me losing my fucking mind knowing that there isn't anything they can do ease the anguish.

I wish people could see that I understand their frustration with me. I'm frustrated too. It's not like I'm having fun. It's not like I'm doing this shit intentionally because it entertains me. I don't want to ruin the evening with a meltdown because I'm bored. I wish people would stop telling me that things are going to get better. People have been telling me that since I was 11 years old. It's going to get better. It will be better after ____. You'll see how much better it will be at some unknown time in the future that never comes. I wish I knew what they could say or do that would be better. I know they want to help, but there's just nothing they can do. That's the injustice of it.

I wish people could see that saying "get help" is like taunting me at this point. I've gotten help. Multiple times. There is no help for people like me.


You really want me to be a good son.
Why'd you make me feel like no one?


© Copyright 2023 Charlie ~ (UN: charlieabney at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/2181458-Are-You-Listening/day/11-9-2019