Storms

The winds calm me. The cool breeze and the warm temperatures. The rain will come soon and dampen the earth. The musky smell of rain will permeate the air and wash everything clean. Spring is amazing. I always get the urge to sink my hands deep into the earth and plant something new.

Having a mental illness is a lot like spring. Our minds rain down emotions. Our illness pounds our world with angry hail and strong winds. The thunder roars in our heads and the debris of our emotional break downs spill out into the world around us. It  threatens to make our loved ones and friends casualties of our anger, sadness, and confusion. We have tiny tornadoes of emotions swirling around in our minds.

These are the storms in our heads. These are the storms of our lives. We can not stop these storms but we can learn to harness their energy and use it positively. We do not have to suffer these storms alone.

 Having a mental illness is a hard thing to live with, but we are not doomed. Life can get better. Life is hard and living with mental illness seems to make it even more difficult at times. It is hard to discuss how we feel. What we go through. How we handle issues that arise. We rise. Through the broken debris and crushed deflated emotions. We rise through the difficulties and fears because we have to. There is no other option but to get up and try again. Some people can not or will not accept that we can not 'just get over it' or just "be happy". Mental illness doesn't work that way. Talking about it is the hardest thing to do. Being honest is scary and difficult. We have to be open and talk about it. How can we expect the way others view mental illness to change if we stay silent? I believe that we are advocates of our own illness. We are the advocates of our own treatment. Talking about our struggles make us stronger and braver than we ever thought we could be. Whether we were born with our mental illness or it came later. Whether it is something that came about because of trauma or genetics, it really doesn't matter. We have to recognize our emotional storms and talk about them. Only then can we change public opinion and begin to heal. We need to accept that we are different but stand up for our rights as individuals. It is not ok to make fun of someone with a mental illness. It is not ok to put labels on us. It is not ok to discriminate or judge us. It is not ok to place the blame of  violent people or sadistic people and turn around and say all mentally ill people are dangerous. It is not ok. 

We have to be the teachers of the rest of the world. We have to teach them acceptance and understanding. We have to teach them the reality of living with mental illness. We have to stand up for ourselves and others like us. We need to reclaim our sense of self and our self esteem. We are not broken shards of china. We are people and we deserve happy lives. We need to be honest. We need to lift ourselves up, and most of all we need to be the advocates we want to represent us.. [tweet this]. 

                                                       Neurotic Nelly

Taking Back My Life

I would like to thank my friend  for giving me the inspiration for this post. He is a kind soul and we have endured eerily similar experiences. Thank you Martin for your bravery and inspiration...


When you are first diagnosed with a mental illness, two things happen. Relief that you are not going crazy and there is a name for your affliction. Then there is the soul shattering realization that you are going to have this mental illness for the rest of you life. It is upsetting and sad. We feel broken.
It forces us to relearn how to live. We have to relearn how to walk one step at a time. We have to find our footing again, as a person with mental illness. We have to learn to go around our obstacles to be able to do the things we need or want to do. In essence we have to learn to take our lives back from the anger, sadness, and shame. We have to learn to take back our moments, our emotions, and our desires.
There are banners, conventions, and parades for many things. There are no pretty floats and flags for mental illness. I like to think that the more we admit loudly about our mental illness we are waving our own banners and holding our own personal conventions. We are walking in our own parades. The more we stand up the more we are fighting for the cause of the mentally ill everywhere. The more we openly speak out the more we are eradicating misinformation and fear. That we are doing our part not only to end the stigma that cloaks us but also erasing the shame that goes with it. We are taking our lives back one sentence at a time.

Maybe it is because my grandmother's stubbornness was passed down to me, but I refuse to be hiding in the shadows and lower my head in shame.
I will not be ashamed. I will not live my life broken.  I will not feel guilty.I will not be a victim of this damn disease. It will not win. It will not take what is rightfully mine away from me. We can be what we want. We can be loud. We do not have to hide. We are strong.

Every time we speak out, we are taking back our lives one day at a time. One post at a time. One word at a time. We are worth so much more than what we give ourselves credit for. There is nothing that says we can not live happy good lives. We are able to be who we want to be. We can lift ourselves up from the depths we have dwelled in for so long. We are the creators of our own destiny. We don't need to be normal to accept the fact that we are here, we are present, and we are worthy.

I refuse to accept the notion handed to me that because I am mentally ill I am somehow less important than my garbage man or the CEO of a fortune 500 company. I am here and what I have to say is important. I refuse to listen to the negative connotations that the media has placed on my head that mentally ill means I am dangerous or insane. I am not insane. I am altered chemically in my brain. So what. I don't need to be like everyone else to prove that I am a master of my own life, no matter what lies my mental illness tells me. I refuse to believe that we are not worthy to be accepted or given understanding. In fact I demand understanding because no one deserves to live in fear or shame. So I am here. We are here and we are not going away. We are here and we taking our lives back from our disorders.
I will not check. I will not bow down to my issues. I will not be afraid of how others perceive me. I will not hide in the dark. I refuse to be ashamed of who I am. I will not accept being ignored or shut away. I am taking back my life from my mental illness. One step at a time, one compulsion at a time, One day at a time.
 We are all worthy of what ever it is what we want. We deserve it and it's damn well time we realized it. We can take back our lives and we will. Because we are strong. We are honest.We are magnificent and we matter. [tweet this]. We can do this.
                                                          Neurotic Nelly

Control

I don't like roller coasters. I hate them with a passion. I hate the speed, the turns, the going up and over. I loath being out of control.  That is exactly what living with OCD is like. The ups and downs. The speed rushing through day after day of unwanted images and thoughts. The feeling of falling over the edge. The being upside down and seeing how far you have to fall. The fear of crashing into the earth at break neck speed and the loss of control to stop it. The image of my feet dangling hundreds of feet above the ground. The roller coaster of life where most people scream with joy and throw their hands up in the air. I sit there grinding my teeth and holding on with a white knuckle grip. I hold on so tight that my hands cramp and my nails have gauged my palms.
I hate the loss of control. Control of my surroundings but mostly the control of myself.
I don't feel the need to control others but I must always be in control of myself. I do not drink. I am not fond of the taste, but worse yet, I detest being drunk because I am not capable of being in total control. I am a self control freak.  I hate pain medication. It makes me feel groggy and not in total control of myself. I only take it if I can not stand the pain. I would rather be in physical pain than feel out of control. I like plans and lists.They comfort me. I do, however, like to be spontaneous. It doesn't bother me to not do things in the plan or lists. I still like to write them though. I would love having a maid. However, if she cleaned my house it would be wrong. Wrong because it wasn't done the way I do it in the order I would do it in. I would love to be the parent that can let the children decorate the Christmas tree. Oh, I let them put the bulbs on but as soon as the leave the room I have to rearrange them. OCD has taken away the easiest things a parent can do from me. I have been dubbed the Christmas tree Nazi. Not a pleasant name. It is sadly not untrue. I can not look at it unless it is perfect. My husband usually puts the tree up and ushers the children away from me because I can easily get cranky until it is perfect. I would love to be the parent that lets them throw tinsel everywhere( I have banned tinsel from my home), put up paper rings(reminds me of nursing homes), and place the bulbs all willy-nilly. I also must have white lights, no multi-colored lights please. This is satisfying to me to have it perfect but it hurts me when I realize that I can not share it with my kids. This coming Christmas I am going to get  another tree and let them decorate theirs while I decorate mine. That way I can have them participate with me. That's what living with OCD is all about. Finding ways around our illness so that we can still participate with others in a meaningful way.
Slowly I have learned to loosen the grip of the roller coaster. I have learned to let some things go. Others that I can not let go of I find ways around them. Like the Christmas tree thing. It is possible to find ways around my disorder. It just takes a little more creativity. A little more gumption to come up with ideas on how to do what I want without being held back by my OCD and all that comes with it. So, although I still hate roller coasters maybe I can find a way to be less scared of them. I can maybe learn to accept less control of myself. It is a work in progress.
Life is always a work in progress and I am ok with that. [tweet this].
                                     Neurotic Nelly
                                       

On Days Like This

On days like this I find it hard to be upbeat. On days like this my mental illness is showing again. On days like this I collect all of my imperfections in a glass jar and drink them down. They taste dirty and bitter. I drink them over and over until I feel like throwing them back up. On days like this I don't want to get out of bed. I would rather dream. But I have things to do, places to go, and people to see. People that want to tear off bits and pieces of me like I am a coveted loaf of bread. Maybe a stale loaf of bread but they are hungry so it doesn't really matter. On days like this I listen to music. Happy or moving tunes to get me out of this whole I have dug for myself, one shovel of dirt and gravel at a time. On days like this I am spilled red wine on my grandmother's white linen table cloth. On days like this I have no philosophy.  I am too tired to ask questions, too exhausted to seek answers, and too damned weary to know the difference. I just keep plugging along. On days like this I cry myself to sleep. Salty tears are my nighttime beverage. I don't need to be shattered from the inside. I am already broken. I am the derelict toy car that now only goes in circles. I am the rag doll with the missing eye. The teddy bear with bald patches of fur.The favorite sweater with the missing button. I am dried out marker tips and melted crayons. I am the stamp collection that has gotten warped and damp. On days like this I am the lost bird calling from the cliffs. I search and search for my location. On days like this I am ashes in the wind. I scatter with the slightest of breezes. I am frightened. I am unsure. I am complicated. On days like this my stomach growls but nothing seems appetizing. I will probably fill my stomach with too much coffee and cigarette smoke. I am weary but I am trying to turn this day around. On days like this I am haunted by my own fears. My own accusations. My own desperation. On days like this I am quiet and contemplative. I will drop everything that falls into my hands. I will forget to check the mail. I will probably burn dinner. I will definitely not sleep well. That's ok. I am not too worried. There is always tomorrow and you never know what tomorrow has in store for you. Maybe tomorrow I will feel like the queen of Sheba. Maybe I will feel like superman. Maybe I will feel like me again. As long as tomorrow is not another day like this.....
                                                                                 Neurotic Nelly

The Story of US

This is My truth. So this is your truth and this is the story of us.You were always two years older than me. Smarter than me, stronger than me, better than me, you always had it all figured out. And I always looked up to you. I learned from you.You had the prettier darker red hair. The first to get a perm. To drive. To wear makeup. To get boyfriends. The first to become a woman. And I always looked up to you. I learned from you.
We used to dance in circles singing silly songs. Dresses blowing in the breeze and our pony tails coming undone. Secret whispers in each others ears. Jumping in rain puddles and climbing trees. Playing dolls and coloring in coloring books. Sunburns and cold vinegar baths. Eating pickles and drinking the juice till our stomachs turned sour. Dreams, hopes, and secrets we shared. I wish we could go back to before the ground crumbled beneath our feet and we tumbled down to the earth like discarded rag dolls. Before we grew up. Before damage was brought upon us and we faltered. Before you flirted with the demon that plagues you. Before the sporadic phone calls with you taking a hit and talking rapidly hoping for me to judge so you could have a reason to turn away from me. But I never judged. I refuse to judge you. I have made mistakes too even if I never went down the road you did. And I always looked up to you. I learned from you.
I always wonder if my face is yours still. Maybe our eyes are still the same. Maybe today you will answer my phone call or texts. Maybe today I can feel whole again like when we were kids. Like when we sisters and not strangers. I can still see us dressing up in Mom's closet. Trying so hard to be adults. What did we trade being a kid for? Months worrying if you are ok. Are you still clean? Are you hungry? Has the demon come back to finally claim you? One more false promise of a few hours to forget your pain.
I never know where you are so I dream of us when time was kind and we were each other's everything. We were two halves of a whole. Now what am I? Doomed to walk around like I have lost something that I can not find. I have somehow lost you, and I never meant too. I have misplaced you and left you on the dresser like a painted knick-knack somewhere. Or maybe you have misplaced me. Maybe we have misplaced each other. It doesn't matter.
What matters is that one day the demons will come to claim you if you flirt with them anymore. That all of my understanding and non judgments can not change that. That you are trapped in a prison of your past and you are living in your own hell. You live so very far away and even if you were standing beside me you would still be to far to reach.That one day I will get the call from someone I don't know, and be told  that you have gone forever. That a gaping hollow whole will open up and I will never be able to fill it. I will never be the same. That I will never get over loosing you. That I will hear your voice when I talk and be unable to speak again. Because we have always sounded the same. I will never be able to face the mirror again. Because we have always been so similar. Because I didn't have the courage to beg you to stop loudly enough. Because I was afraid you would turn me away. Because I want to yell at you and beg you not to leave me alone. Not like this. Because I am trying to be you and be strong. Because I am trying to be you and be smart and better. Because I always looked up to you. I learned from you. Because I love you. Because I miss you. Because I will have no one to share a sister's secrets with. Because all I have left are fragile bits of memories. That I clutch them so tight I risk breaking them.They are fragile shards of glass and they cut me every time I look at them. The pain cuts me and I weep. And I always looked up to you. I always learned from you. And I always loved you.
                                          Neurotic Nelly