This post has been sitting in my drafts for over a month now. Maybe even two months at this point, I’m not sure. It came about from a prompt that my blogger friend KD had completed, which inspired me. I thought it was a really intriguing question to consider: if I came with a warning sign, what would that sign say?
If you know anything about me at this point, you have to imagine that the little voice in my head automatically comes up with a variety of ideas, all of them very negative. I mean after all, it is a warning sign. That does not instill a person with feelings of hope and light.
The pictures above are meant in jest, but they seem incredibly appropriate to describe the kind of sign I imagine would represent me. Something that reflects the level of complexity, confusion, and frustration that is likely involved in being in my life.
Seriously, good luck. Even I don’t understand what’s going on in my head sometimes.
Then there’s this one, which I dreamed up in my own mind.
Great intentions, sub-par execution.
Also known as: Well, you sure tried, but it didn’t work the way you planned. Again. Good job, loser.
I said that to J once during our session and she immediately corrected it. Because that’s what J does. She’s all about focusing on the good. She wouldn’t like the idea of there being a warning sign at all, I know it, because warning sounds remarkably close to judgement.
So let’s try to reframe that a little.
The strangely convenient thing about me putting this post off as long as I have is that it now seems quite apropos now in light of the pit of depression I’ve been trying to surface from the last few days. One that knocked me off my feet for a whole weekend as I laid in my bed playing games on my phone.
I said I was cancelling my session. I didn’t do that. I considered skipping work, I didn’t do that. In fact, I actually went to an interview on Wednesday and did very well. Although I’m not quite there yet, I’m trying to get back into a groove of mindfulness, running, and choosing healthier foods.
I don’t give up. One of my most redeeming qualities is that even though I have recurring bouts with the mental illness minions that knock me on ass, I always get back up. I come back from those awful feelings and keep going. A phoenix from the damn ashes.
That’s my warning sign: You have to be prepared for the fact that on any given day, mental illness may come for me and stop me in my tracks. There may be days retreating from the world, a brief cessation of skills. But then, eventually, I keep moving forward. I am persistent.
Like I said about a week ago, I have survived everything that has been hard for me before.
I know there will continue to be stops, and I hate that, but that just means there will also be opportunities for me to go. To regain control, to get back on the skill train, and chug forward.
Warning: Healing in progress.