The Haters

There is a lot of wonder I have right now at how my life is playing out. I’m really grateful. But I’m also thinking about how neuroatypical people shame people like me, and how people like me tend to be writers or artists of myriad types of others who don’t fit in. Mental illness is a birthing process, whereby we become more fully who we are – or where we lose who we were. In the case of treated mental illness we are becoming wonderfully unique. We are wonderfully unique and fearfully made, and sometimes we need to disengage from haters who want to control us and see us live in little boxes that they live in. Little boxes that “normal” people live in.

I just went up on my medicine and am experiencing no paranoia right now. It’s pretty fabulous and life is good. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay on it because of the side effects, but it’s been a nice couple of weeks. What I’m learning is that we can just take medication changes one day at a time. And always with a doctor’s close supervision. I’m learning more medication is a good thing most of the time, with breaks in controlled vacation periods.

Getting Over Myself

I didn’t realize how much depth was possible in a human being until I became ill. And I didn’t realize the flatness and shallowness of others until I tried to interact with them while I was suffering. After a while, being superficial was no longer an option. I had to be honest.

“You’re really shallow,” I said.

And like that, our relationship was over. But I had found myself.