Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Misconception or Persecution - Day Two


I wanted to lay out some feelings that can be very strong for me.  I was diagnosed as schizophrenic a decade ago, and one of the first things I felt was alienation from belonging to society, like a label was going to be a big part of my identity, and the only way that it was so forceful was that I was actually medicated against my will with drugs that nullify most aspects of your general personality.  They are capable of being recovered but in my journey and meeting others, it's not for people that aren't proactive or research the insanity of this entire system that claims you are not mentally healthy. There is more aspects to it than this, there is a "dangerous" label associated with schizophrenia, that you have been targeted and removed from most general functions of society and are viewed differently and in different layers, of what other people refer to as a stigma, that is very real, but more pronounced based on your level of functioning.  There was this search, like wanting to know what is in your mind, that I even shared, what was in my mind, obviously, that was what was in question, so I'd have to explore some of these experiences that shaped my mind, which are extremely complicated. And again it goes back to an alienation or perception of myself as somehow separated from everyone else, that I was watching them live a life, that technically they were trying to show me as the only way to live. So this multiplied in my relationships with other people and organizations within society that each had their own unique way of expressing dialogue with me.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed a misconception of who I was, a personification of who I was to be made up by others.  To be examined without respecting what I remembered of who I used to be.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to dwindle inside of a fog and not assert myself during these questioning years of my psyche.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed my identity to be something that I had to figure out and not who I was, that I had gotten off track from society and couldn't figure out my footing to join it again.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed a belief in a stigma against me that stunted me from expressing my concern for others.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed misconceptions to be permitted over my disbelief in myself, that I couldn't compile an adequate position in which to speak from and even, leaving behind or stagnating relationships with my family, simply because there was an overarching label placed on me that I had a lot of difficulty figuring out.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself not to be present at crucial moments in the people in my life's lives.  That I didn't understand my connection to them, and wasn't capable of offering my best at their grievous moments.

That brings the second part of this into question which I had laid bare before me today by a close friend also suffering from mental illness and not getting the help they needed, or should be receiving in coping with this.  With the other part, about what's expected out of you, for at times many of us with mental illness, just like physical illness have been bed bound and sapped of motivation to clean and do all the normal things healthy people may take for granted without knowing how many people truly do suffer.  The problem is that it can be seen what a physically disabled person is capable of whereas with mental illness we are capable of talking and moving, it's just not that it's easy, an invisible world is haunting us and preventing us from participating in daily tasks. It was brought to my attention how difficult being supportive of some of my family members is, when it feels like I am on a sickbed and the exertion to snap out of that and be of use and available to others is severely questionable and I would be more content, to be visited as a disabled person. Not to mention they almost tell us that after all this hell we have been through with psychiatry, if you get better you should find a vocation, which would only burden us even more, it wouldn't provide connection, it would be like asking homeless veterans to snap out of it and go into a professional field of duty.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to be denigrated, and become even more disabled than I was at the start of this.  That I pushed others away and made it more difficult for me to be of use to close friends and relatives.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to not be of use and available to people I truly cared about but couldn't keep up with in person.  That I resorted to being on a sickbed and preferred electronic relationships or phone calls over meeting others in normal places.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to fall apart in more ways than one, and not keep up with the people around me.  That I viewed myself in a way that I should have more visitors for my condition than I in reality did and that I couldn't cope with many aspects of how mental health care is operated.

That is all I can come up with today, these points I am making I can elaborate on, so this is just trying to create a background that I can expand on later to get more intrinsic with some of my real focused problems.

Thank you.

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