I know, for those suffering from mental illnesses, we can sometimes feel like "WHAT good can ever come from my mental issues?" It can be hard to think of any benefit of mental illness. It can feel like it swallows you whole and consumes everything you love, shitting it back out like a dark King Midas that turns everything it touches into a twisted mess. My mental illnesses have ruled the better part of my life and it's a constant struggle to find a silver lining. But this is a little bit about how I think I found mine.
I've struggled with depression/anxiety/borderline personality disorder for most of my life, though thankfully things are much better now than they used to be. I've not self-harmed in over 6 years and I've been without medication for about 3 years. For the most part, I'm doing really well. But everyone has times when they struggle and the last year has been a serious strain on my anxieties. Panic attacks started coming back, accompanied of course by depression, constant worrying, and phobias. I try hard to take care of myself and look up ways to help me de-stress, but it's not the kind of stress you get after a long day. Anxieties start to control your life. Someone asks if you want to go get lunch. Have to get dressed, what if I wear something stupid what if they don't like what I'm wearing, then I have to drive there what if I get in an accident and no one knows who to call and I'm all alone and dying and my husband can't find me, then I'll have to get there to eat and there will be people all around me and what if a man grabs me or I get cornered somewhere that I can't get away, what will I eat, can I afford to be going out, what are we going to talk about? No sorry, I'm busy I can't go out. Can't sleep at night thinking of all the things that could happen to you or your loved ones. Checking to see if your partner is still breathing.
I've made myself a little tool-kit to take places with me to try and lower my anxiety and it does sometimes help. But what helps me get through Every. Single. Episode. Is my husband.
I know, I know, the feminist in me is screaming that I don't need a husband to take care of me, and that's true. But everyone does need a support system. And I'm lucky enough to live with my best friend who knows how to help me. I'm sure when I had my first panic attack in front of him my husband was like whattttttttttt the hell is going on I'm gonna run now. But I remember very clearly hiding in my closet crying and rocking back and forth and him sitting on the floor right outside the closet and telling me to listen to the rain. Previous to that of course was the "What is going on you need to calm down" that everyone often says when seeing someone else have a panic attack, but he seemed to learn pretty quickly that rationalization at that moment was not working and he needed to try something else.
If I were totally neuro-typical, I'm sure The Ginger would still be a great father! He's selfless and kind and loving. He'd learn everything else as he went. When I first met him he, like so many others our age including myself, had little to no experience caring for anyone but himself. And certainly no experience caring and loving someone who is struggling with an illness. He has had to coax me out of some pretty tough situations. And can he do it every time? No. Sometimes I just can't be calmed down, or he doesn't say "The Right Thing" and I get even more upset. I can go from just easily irritated, to periods of complete shut down and going non-verbal. Sometimes he gets irritated back or he doesn't understand why I'm not talking. But every time gets easier than the last. It's a learning process, and it's one that he's excelling at. Last time I stopped talking he started telling me a funny story about our dog. He makes me laugh, he breaks up the worry loop in my brain. He knows my triggers, he understood that I had to stop watching Game of Thrones because I couldn't handle the constant sexual assault scenes. He helps me clean the kitchen when a friend with allergies is coming over because he knows I have a huge allergy phobia. He comes home after working all day and sees me curled up on the couch crying about how stressful it is that our apartment is messy and how I can't get off the couch and couldn't all day, and he starts cleaning up.
I think that learning my needs, as someone who needs possibly a little extra attention than a neuro-typical person might, has helped The Ginger learn to listen really deeply to another person and care for them and think of them when making decisions. He's not gonna suggest waking downtown at night as a date-night. He might choose a movie cuddled on the cough or bowling if it was a good day because he understands my needs and has incorporated them into his own. All of these characteristics are, what I believe, going to make him not just a great father, but a fantastic father.
I've struggled with depression/anxiety/borderline personality disorder for most of my life, though thankfully things are much better now than they used to be. I've not self-harmed in over 6 years and I've been without medication for about 3 years. For the most part, I'm doing really well. But everyone has times when they struggle and the last year has been a serious strain on my anxieties. Panic attacks started coming back, accompanied of course by depression, constant worrying, and phobias. I try hard to take care of myself and look up ways to help me de-stress, but it's not the kind of stress you get after a long day. Anxieties start to control your life. Someone asks if you want to go get lunch. Have to get dressed, what if I wear something stupid what if they don't like what I'm wearing, then I have to drive there what if I get in an accident and no one knows who to call and I'm all alone and dying and my husband can't find me, then I'll have to get there to eat and there will be people all around me and what if a man grabs me or I get cornered somewhere that I can't get away, what will I eat, can I afford to be going out, what are we going to talk about? No sorry, I'm busy I can't go out. Can't sleep at night thinking of all the things that could happen to you or your loved ones. Checking to see if your partner is still breathing.
I've made myself a little tool-kit to take places with me to try and lower my anxiety and it does sometimes help. But what helps me get through Every. Single. Episode. Is my husband.
I know, I know, the feminist in me is screaming that I don't need a husband to take care of me, and that's true. But everyone does need a support system. And I'm lucky enough to live with my best friend who knows how to help me. I'm sure when I had my first panic attack in front of him my husband was like whattttttttttt the hell is going on I'm gonna run now. But I remember very clearly hiding in my closet crying and rocking back and forth and him sitting on the floor right outside the closet and telling me to listen to the rain. Previous to that of course was the "What is going on you need to calm down" that everyone often says when seeing someone else have a panic attack, but he seemed to learn pretty quickly that rationalization at that moment was not working and he needed to try something else.
If I were totally neuro-typical, I'm sure The Ginger would still be a great father! He's selfless and kind and loving. He'd learn everything else as he went. When I first met him he, like so many others our age including myself, had little to no experience caring for anyone but himself. And certainly no experience caring and loving someone who is struggling with an illness. He has had to coax me out of some pretty tough situations. And can he do it every time? No. Sometimes I just can't be calmed down, or he doesn't say "The Right Thing" and I get even more upset. I can go from just easily irritated, to periods of complete shut down and going non-verbal. Sometimes he gets irritated back or he doesn't understand why I'm not talking. But every time gets easier than the last. It's a learning process, and it's one that he's excelling at. Last time I stopped talking he started telling me a funny story about our dog. He makes me laugh, he breaks up the worry loop in my brain. He knows my triggers, he understood that I had to stop watching Game of Thrones because I couldn't handle the constant sexual assault scenes. He helps me clean the kitchen when a friend with allergies is coming over because he knows I have a huge allergy phobia. He comes home after working all day and sees me curled up on the couch crying about how stressful it is that our apartment is messy and how I can't get off the couch and couldn't all day, and he starts cleaning up.
I think that learning my needs, as someone who needs possibly a little extra attention than a neuro-typical person might, has helped The Ginger learn to listen really deeply to another person and care for them and think of them when making decisions. He's not gonna suggest waking downtown at night as a date-night. He might choose a movie cuddled on the cough or bowling if it was a good day because he understands my needs and has incorporated them into his own. All of these characteristics are, what I believe, going to make him not just a great father, but a fantastic father.
.jpg)
