I don't want to make generalisations or assumptions about others who suffer with mental illness - either diagnosed or not yet diagnosed - but I know for me, the future has never felt exciting. I think for me, it began as a teenager... around the time that my moods became noticeable to me. I didn't understand it, and for years knew that I was different but had no idea what that meant. I always felt that I experienced emotions deeper, harder than those around me and couldn't understand how or why I would go from crazy happy to dark and depressed and then back up into a furious anger.
The older that I became, the more those emotions seemed to intensify and as a young adult, they began to consume me. Depressive episodes would last anywhere from a few days to a few months, and then it would shift; my mood would come back up and I would begin new projects and take on new adventures with an abundance of passion and energy. Nothing could stop me... except maybe my paranoia and bouts of uncontrollable rage.
With every passing year, it became worse. I knew that there was something wrong when I was in between, or when I was calm and collected and rational; but if I was too far one way or another I couldn't see reason. Living this way quickly became exhausting. Over the last several years, my birthday came and went. I tried to keep up a semblance of excitement and plastered a smile on my face when it would come and go. I refocused my energy, avoided thinking too much about it and placed all of my attention into my son's birthday the following day.
Overall, the future was not something I looked forward to, and my past was always there - haunting me with my mistakes, and reminding me that it would forever follow me around. Some years I wasn't sure whether or not I would live to see my next birthday - or that I even cared if I didn't.
Living in constant turmoil, with a lack of resources and understanding was holding me back. I have suffered since I was a teenager, I have been in pain and looking for help but not knowing where to turn as I held my tongue and tried not to talk or think about the diagnosis' that the doctor's gave me. They gave me pills and told me to come back in 3 or 6 months and I did as I was told, continuing on as though it was a simple fix - take the pills... be normal.
What I understand now, is that it isn't a simple fix. There are options, there are multiple diagnosis' and combinations of mental illnesses that work differently in each person's body. There are different medications that can be tried, different types of therapy and support that can not only allow you to speak up for once, but they allow other peoples stories in. Nutrition, exercise, alternative therapies when used in conjunction with traditional medications/therapies, or on their own are all different options that I have finally been able to explore.
For the first time, I have a quality of life. My emotions and my moods no longer control me, and while I'm not perfect and I know that I still have a long way to go, and it is still a lot of hard work, I'm excited about the journey. I'm excited about life without the constant ups and downs and fighting against myself and anyone who tries to help me. I'm excited for the future.
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