I’ve finally arrived to the stage of acceptance with my mental diagnosis. To say I haven’t struggled or am no longer struggling would be a blatant lie.

I’m struggling everyday not just to accept my diagnosis but also that there is no cure and that I will have to be medicated one way or another for the rest of my life. It’s completely devastating and any chances of being off medication has been shattered.

Whether it’s a mental diagnosis or a medical one, one way or another I’m taking some kind of medication for my foreseeable future and it just plain sucks. It’s shitty. It feels unjust. It feels completely outright wrong!

I’m not having a good time with this acceptance and I feel more alone than ever because I’m a lonely person that really doesn’t trust anyone to confide in. I internalize so much that I have gotten used to relying on myself to pull myself out of things.

Think I’m drowning in a body of water. Everyone else outside of myself, real people in my life, is standing around me just looking, some not even looking and some pointing and concerned for me but no one steps in to pull me out. That’s because my body of water is a kiddie pool that is waist deep and I can just stand up and guess what? There’s also the ladder that is right next to me within arms reach but no one has said a thing to me. Or maybe they did but not loud enough for me to hear over my own splashing around as I think I’m drowning. Is it their fault? No. Do I want to blame them? Yes.

But it’s not so easy as that analogy because my human emotions come into play and when my family and friends and professional health team is looking out for me trying to save me, if it’s not said in the right way or tone, I’ve taken offense where none should have been taken and then it just throws me off completely.

It becomes a risky business with them being able to say things to me.

And then I’m back in the water drowning in my little kiddie pool.

Well, obviously I haven’t drowned to death but I have passed out from the “drowning” 3 times. I ended up in the hospital, not from literal drowning, but from my episodes of psychosis that no one around me knew how to help besides calling an ambulance and sending me to the hospital. An ambulance that cost over 2k out of my own pocket and then 20k for hospital stays out of pocket. I got lucky the first time because it was my first episode and someone was able to cover that cost for me through the help of my hospital but the times after? Yeah, not likely to get help because it’s a reoccurring event now, it’s my own stupid mistakes and I’m no longer a person worth the compassion to get those bills covered. Because why? Because I should know better by the second time around and no ones going to pay for all my hospitalizations because yeah it is on me. I should have to face the responsibility of those life changing events and while it sucks to be in debt. Here I am. 5 years later, still medicated, still getting help through therapy and still not able to get off medication.

I came into this mental health recovery journey thinking, oh I’ll just go to some therapy sessions, be on medication until I’m feeling better and I can stop but it isn’t working out like this. I don’t have a team of people that is actually on the same page as me. While they want the best they can give for me and for me to be at my best, we don’t see the same solution as the best for me.

It’s a journey I don’t want to be on, this journey of health and wellness but it’s a journey I have to take because then I’ll just be in and out of hospitals, on and off all types of medications and nothings working out for me. I just need to keep going and never give up.

Today is another sad one, my acceptance is more rejection but I will get there one day. However that day will look like is for me to work on and find out when I get there.

Hope you all can stay cheerful and hopeful as I force myself to as well.

Till next time cubs~