I would like to share this post with my readers, from The Bipolar Writer Mental Health Blog.
I also agree with the first commenter in that blog post too, by Alanpenrose5654.
Do take a read of this blog post and the comments. Also, if you are not already following this blog, I totally recommend you do.
I hope that all of us in the mental illness blogging community have the same goals–to end the stigma surrounding mental illness. I believe that to keep the fight going and maybe educate those that have never walked a day in our shoes, it is imperative to share your story. We are all unique, and though we may share similar symptoms of our collective illnesses, it is how you deal and your past that might help future mental illness sufferers.
A blog post share, called “Shhh… That is stigma,” by Susan Walz, at The Bipolar Writer. Susan Walz writes to share how damaging telling someone to Shhh can be, when talking about your own mental illness and not feeling supported.
You will find her post here: https://jamesedgarskye.com/2018/05/27/shhh-that-is-stigma/
I felt I needed to share this as I have heard some of these be said to, like for example that “depression is a choice,” when actually this is not true. Depression is not a choice, because if it was, we would not want it. So to debunk these myths and to help spread awareness, this is why I share this post, that will take you to The Blurt Foundation post.
Something I came across Facebook and I wanted to share here. There are many illnesses that are invisible, but because they are invisible, it does not mean our invisible illness are not easy. It does not make them any less.
Just some examples of invisible illnesses are:
- mental illness
- hearing loss
- Crohn’s disease
As I have mentioned, this is just a short list and there are many other invisible illnesses.
I feel there are work places that still need to change their attitude towards peoples mental health.
(Content Warning: mental health, childhood trauma I witnessed of cruelty to my dog, emotional abuse.)
This year, in February, was my next lot of counselling to focus on things from childhood.
My first appointment was assessment first, (like all counsellors do, to give you the right type of counselling.) Also, to see what I will want to talk about, how I feel, (filling in form for how I’ve been 2 weeks prior) and what I expect to get out of my counselling sessions.
At the end of my assessment, I shown my counsellor my letter to Dad, that the previous counsellor suggested to me to write. This was so the counsellor could see at a glance what I experienced and how I felt. I told her I had not read it since writing it, but I planned to at some point before burning it. It was probably because of the flashbacks I was having, for avoiding it. Counsellor checked I had a grounding technique for when I get these flashbacks, which I did, that my previous counsellor gave. She reminded me not to push myself and read it when I am ready.
The weeks to follow, I mainly talked about my Dad, how he was good with other people’s kids, but not his own and trying to understand how he could not be like that with me. There were times me and my Dad would laugh and have fun, but sometimes, something would happen to spoil it.
What I can thank my Dad for
Sense with my own money, because I had no pocket money from my parents as a kid. (Unless I drawn out the bingo ticket at the end of the night. from the barrel.)
My Mum wanted to give me pocket money, but my Dad said no, saying they could not afford it. (But he could go to the pub everyday and night.)
Christmas through to the New Year was always good. I wish the rest of the year could have been the same. (Presents need not be included.)
For Dad encouraging me to make notes from wildlife programmes I watched. He bought me a hard-backed notebook to write my notes up in neat, that I learnt from them. I thought it was a great idea he suggested and this is the only memory of encouragement I have, that he gave me.
When it came to sweets, I could only have half the amount. (This was his idea of saving money, not for health benefits.) So for example, a tube of smarties would have to last for 2 days. A Kit Kat of four fingers would also have to last 2 days. But as an adult, I thank him for that, as I probably would not have had healthy teeth as I have.
My Dad revealed he used to listen to my music while I was at school and I would show an interest in some of his. I felt with this and watching films with him, we shared an interest. I felt I knew my Dad better than my Mum because of this. It seems strange how I had this bond, yet at the same time, fear of my Dad.
What I don’t thank my Dad for
Fear is the first thing that comes to mind when talking about what my Dad was like in my childhood.
For the cruelty I witness as a kid, that he did to my dog, Brin. Naturally, I screamed and cried as a kid, telling him to stop. On one occasion he turned round to me, swearing, saying if I did not shut up, I would get it as well. (Hit me with shovel.) I really believed he would do it and my view does not change on this. It was hard trying not to scream or cry when I heard the dog yelp. Those are the flashbacks I hear, since last year. But they are getting less powerful to me now. Ground techniques help, if I get them. But should they ever get troublesome, I have been told of treatment I could get that would help.
For thinking I was a liar, when I was ill. I would have understood if I was a kid that skived from school. But I wasn’t. I would not have dared, because of my Dad.
It’s a good job he is not alive
This might sound horrible, but it is a god job he is not alive. If he had been, I would have reported him for the behaviour towards me, Mum and my dog.
After experiencing similar things in my first relationship that my Mum had with my Dad, its at that point I would not have been scared of my Dad and I would have approached him about what he had done.
Counselling has helped to get rid of anger, has made me calm and I have found I don’t react to certain things in a way I would have done. I feel at my best than I have ever been.
Although my counselling has ended, which I decided after 3 weeks was the right time for me to end it, there are a couple of things I still need to do in my own time. By the time I have done that, maybe in a later post, when that time comes, I finally can say I have let go.
© Elizabeth Fisher and My Wellbeing and Learning Journey.
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