What defines life...What is it to live? Even in the health care arena there are differing opinions...is it brain activity, ability to your heart to beat. Is it quality, is it quantity, experiences, love, memories, tragedies.
Blood pumps through my veins, my eyes see, lungs utilize oxygen and expel carbon dioxide. I feel the wind brush over my skin, my brain has consciousness. Is that what living is definded? Can we define such a concept?
Picture a round cheeked grade school child, side swepted banged Burnett, goodwill green dress with comb in hand. With a melancholy smile. I will try to find a picture if I can. As early as I can remember I've lived with numbness with moments of "happy" and more sad. How do people live with peace, and happiness? Abilify, Celexa, Prozac, Welbutrin, Paxil, Adderall. I've tried so many combos while under doctor direction, yet a melancholy numbness is my baseline, with slightly less anger and anxiety off meds. Meds make enough of a difference not to go off them, but not enough of a difference to believe that I can every feel ...well actually feel, be in present.
There is more times than I can count I don't believe in myself, give up on myself. So often I fear if I try and actually invest in me that it still won't be be enough, which will reaffirm to me that I am less than, unworthy of...more.
Nature vs nurture, DNA, dysfunctional family dynamics. At what point can we break free from our upbringing. Bipolar with schizophrenic tendencies mother, alcoholic step father, bipolar sister, another with ocd, many more family with mental illness and substance abuse. Here as I write, only 25 years old, one uncle committed suicide and my aunt was battling cancer and I believe committed suicide. I picture girl interrupted with my aunt, shock therapy and still battled mental illness. Some days I worry I will follow my families footsteps, their legacy so to speak.
I wonder what is better, knowing or not knowing. All the mental health books say you have a more promising prognosis if you have a self awareness of your illness. Yet those same book say the younger you are afflicted with illness the poorer prognosis. What does that say for the same person as that melancholy child. I would never dream of telling that kid that.
I remember the very first time my mother got help for her mental health was at my counseling appointment as I was 10 years old. I've always bared my mothers burdens, that even now I have not learn proper coping.
I want to break me down to that child who didn't stand a chance, wipe her tears, hug her and teach her "happy" isn't fleeting moments, but a way of life. I want to heal the wounds, and make her (me) stronger than ever thought possible. Come away with me and find happy with me.
<3 moose
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