I’ve been trying to think of a topic to write about. As it turns out, I live a pretty boring life on the outside. Inside is like a mixture of tv shows. Drama, scifi, and b-movies abound along with a sprinkle of soap.
So what do I know about. I know about depression and pain. About compulsion and guilt and I know about fear and shame. The invisible maladies that haunt so many and ignored by so many more. I know how it feels to dispair and have no where to turn for help. Help. That thing that many promise but cannot produce, usually under the guise of “you mustn’t want help”.
There are many well meaning people in the world. Some even boast rightfully that they have helped people with the invisible sicknesses. But in this crazy world, there are those of us who are resistant for whatever reason. Normals might say that we fake it or even want the afflictions. Bull!
I know too what is like to seek help inpatient and leave in worse shape than I went in.