Sick Doesn't Mean Broken

Yesterday I was siting in my therapist’s office chatting with her, trying to make her understand how my mind works. This is not an easy task. Apparently, everyone doesn’t play out (in their head, not out loud) multiple scenarios of how social interactions might go before they actually end up in said situation. I need to do this so I can plan for every possible outcome. I thought everyone did that.

She asked me what my goal was in therapy? I told her that obviously I didn’t want to be broken. This seemed to concern her. She asked why did I consider myself broken because of a chemical imbalance in my brain.  So then I started thinking…why do I think of my depression and anxiety in that way? When I get a migraine, I don’t get frustrated with my body for not being able to take care of it. How is this any different?

I have often been involved in conversations with parents about if I felt their child was ADHD. As a teacher, I never gave my opinion, only the facts:

·      Johnny has a hard time focusing on the task in front of him

·      Johnny is rarely able to finish his work in the allotted amount of time.

·      Johnny is often disruptive and this causes his classmates to become frustrated with him.

·      Johnny often beats himself up when these things happen.

Sometimes parents would say “Oh, yeah, he’s been diagnosed with ADHD, but we are choosing not to medicate. We don’t believe in that sorta thing.” This is the point where I would say, “And that is your right as his parent” and close my mouth.

But what I wanted to do was ask why are you punishing your child for having a treatable disorder? Do you not give your child Tylenol if they have a headache or fever? Do you decline antibiotics for your toddlers’ ear infection? What if Johnny had diabetes? Would you deny him insulin, stating that you don’t believe in that sorta thing?

The truth is, my depression and anxiety is no different than having a heart problem, ADHD, high cholesterol, lyme disease or an assortment of other treatable diseases and disorders. I have to stop thinking of it as a Mental Illness and instead simply an illness. I’m sick and I’m working on getting better. And, not to toot my own horn, but I’m doing a pretty darned good job.

Last week I flew across the ocean without needing Xanex for my anxiety (mostly thoughts of my plane crashing and leaving my children motherless). THAT is a big deal for me.

I spent an entire week with Momma and didn’t get annoyed with her once. THAT is a big deal for me.

My husband is in a place I consider to be dangerous and I am not playing out all of the possible kidnapping/ransom demands in my head. THAT is a big deal for me.

So guess what? I’m not broken. I struggle sometimes; some things are tougher for me than other people (see first paragraph), and I sometimes make things much more difficult than they need to be (anyone in my OSC can probably think of a recent scenario where this relates—sorry ladies).

But I am not broken.