My mental health struggles are something that I don’t usually talk about, or even care to admit. Perhaps that’s a product of my upbringing and the environment I grew up in. But, over this past lockdown-laden year, I have slowly grown to embrace all of these… quirks, so to speak.
Now I’m not a licensed therapist or even have a single ounce of authority in terms of dealing with these topics, I’m just a guy with a lot of past scars just like everybody else. I’m just here to vent to the HIVE blockchain, or to people who would bother to read this post, and to maybe grab one of those Mental Health Awareness badges. wink wink nudge nudge
People who know me will probably tell you that I’m a pretty outgoing guy who never runs out of quips. I guess making people laugh has always been a skill I had even when I was a young kid. Really though, I think it has always been a defense against my own creeping sadness. At the back of my mind I’ve always thought “If I can make people feel a bit better, then it would make me feel less shitty by extension.”
Maybe it’s unfair to put this on anyone else, but I think it’s somewhat a natural defense mechanism for people with undiagnosed anxiety. Being at home the whole time has made me more contemplative, even though in reality I’ve really been just at home for almost a decade now, but this past year has robbed me of my choice to go out whenever I want to. So, I guess that’s the difference.
They say that a journey of a thousand miles begin with a single step. What better first step to take than to unload past traumas. As you can see with my stalling, I’m not really good at opening up so bare with me. Here we go. Let’s John McClane up in this bitch!
Yippee ki-yay Mother, Fathers!
One of the reasons why people find it hard to open up about their own struggles is because most of the time it’s always placed side-by-side with other people’s experiences. I’m going to say this slowly so that everyone can hear at the back.
Everyone. Is. Going. Through. Something. No. One. Trauma. Is. Greater. That. Another.
Demeaning a person’s trauma doesn’t elevate other people. No one benefits from that. So, if you’re one of those people, cut it out.
I’ve had a comfortable life growing up. We had food on our table three times a day, we had a roof over our heads, and I had the privilege to complete my studies without any financial troubles. I didn’t have abusive parents, I wasn’t molested as a child and I didn’t experience any life-altering tragedies. Does that make the depression and anxiety I feel any less than the person’s who had it worse?
No, it doesn’t.
You should never be made to feel bad that your struggle isn’t as worse as the next guy. Feel the way you feel, process how you see fit.
My own experience
When I was a kid, I used to dart upstairs or hide beneath cars whenever we had visitors come over. I was dismissed as anti-social and that I needed to adjust my attitude, but really though it was the first manifestations of my anxiety. It remained unchecked over the years, and it just festered in me. I’ve had difficulties interacting with people for years all because I was forced to do so at a time when I wasn’t ready.
Didn’t I have the right to feel that way, not unlike children who were sold to slavery?
When I was in primary school, I had straight A’s across the board up until I encountered this scumbag Math teacher. He kept following out batch every time we went up a level, and I never received another award since then. My interest in studying waned and my Math skills fell far behind. In college, I studied Engineering (a very Math-heavy course) just to prove to myself that I can do it, and it was the first time I ever received a failing grade. I failed so many times, I almost flunked out of school, all because of Math.
Does that make it less of a trauma than people who never had the chance to study?
When I started working, I aced every job application I had and I climbed up the ranks at an accelerated rate. Whenever it was time for me to move on, I had full control of how my career should go. I resigned from one job and jumped ship to the next one on my own pace. People were lining up to avail of my services, not because I was the best at what I do but because I was relentless and had a burning determination to perform.
Then there came a company whose people I have great respect towards. Everything seemed fine until one day my access to their system was completely revoked. Without any warning, I suddenly found myself terminated for the first time in my life. I didn’t know how to process it, and the founders told me they would help me get back up on my feet. They didn’t, not really. This one was hard to shake off. Heck, I’m still feeling the ramifications of this to this very day.
I thought to myself, “This is fine. People are lining up for me. I have the pick of the litter.” They weren’t, at least not anymore. Application after application was turned down. My confidence was rocked to the core. I found myself unemployed with no prospects, and it stayed that way for a number of years. My savings almost went to zero, and I still wasn’t able to admit the trauma to myself.
At the time, I was still comparing this to what other people are going through. It wasn’t healthy. I suffered through depression and all of the tell-tale signs of PTSD.
I didn’t go to war, I didn’t get robbed and I didn’t suffer through any major tragedy.
I was just fired, for the first time in my life.
First and only time. I’m determined to never let that happen again.
Truthfully, this is the first time I’ve told that third story. I’m leaving out any names out of respect for all of the people involved. I’m in a better place now, but that doesn’t erase the fact the what happened was shitty.
Well, that was cathartic. Any traumas you want to get off your chest? I’m all ears, and I’m here to listen. Leave them all in the comments section and let’s work through them together.