Messy inside

Oh yeah I’m a reaper man
Every good thing, I kill it good
Oh yeah I’m a hooligan
Out in the street making a mess

Fuck yeah I’m a deviant
When I go to the store I go undressed
Oh yeah I’m a sexy mess
Go on the date just to get the dress off

How’d I ever get so off my rocks?
How’d I ever get so lost
Everybody out there on the job
But not me

Oh, but not me

Oh yeah I’m an ugly mess
Not in the face, but in the head
I’m thinking that was best not said
But I say it anyway, then I say it again

They took a little look at my brain,
they come to find, all is sane
They took a little look at my heart
They found a prince living behind bars

How’d I ever get so off my rocks?
How’d I ever get so lost
Everybody out there on the job, but not me oh no
How’d I ever get so indiscreet, how’d I ever get so freakly
Everybody out there on a leash
But not me

Oh

I know I got no choice, got no choice, but to love myself
I know I got no choice, got no choice, but to love myself
God knows, you got no choice, got no choice, but to love yourself
God knows, I got no choice, got no choice, got no choice

How’d I ever get so off my rocks?
How’d I ever get so lost (who knows)
Everybody out there on the job, but not me oh no
How’d I ever get so indiscreet, how’d I ever get so freakly
Everybody out there on a leash
But not me

Oh, but not me

(Reaper Man by Mother Mother)

I have a confession to make. When my life gets out of control, I don’t eat. And when I don’t eat, I don’t have enough calories to keep me asleep at night. And when I can’t sleep, I slip into really bad anxiety and then I get sad. It’s hard to make rational decisions when I’m sleep deprived, and it’s not an easy cycle for me to break. Every now and then a song comes along and sticks to you like the gluey residue from an old BandAid, that was Reaper Man for me. I identify with the above lyrics, probably more than is healthy.

I start to wonder if this is my new normal, but then I look back and think how did I get in this place? Is this forever? Has anyone noticed how fucked up this is? You better believe people notice when you’ve become a shell of your former self. I try to hide when I am unwell inside, but it seeps out in the most interesting, and sometimes outlandish, ways. I can’t keep this shit inside, no matter how hard I try.

I know what it is like to be weird inside. I know what it is to be fucked up and make a bad decision or two, or three, or four. I know the self-loathing that comes with making bad decisions, feeling like you don’t deserve the good things in life, entrenching further and further that I am not a good person. In my experience, forgiving and loving yourself again and again is hard work and seems so far out of reach at times.

This I know: I’m a strong woman and I have won many battles on my own, but depression and anxiety are not one of them. I have relied on a therapist and a doctor more than once in my life, and I continually count on a vast support network. People are fallible. Oh God, am I ever fallible. My struggles with depression and anxiety are not over; at the moment I just happen to be on even ground. I know the signs, and I know earlier and earlier when things start to slip for me. But it still happens.

I am human, I am fallible, I am imperfect, I make bad decisions, I hurt people. I don’t pretend to be anything more than this, because I’m not.

I eat well and I exercise because I know I need to take care of my body. I feel like this is a general rule we’re all aware of, because society talks about it all the time. But not enough people talk about taking care of our mental health. You’d go to a doctor if something in your body hurt or malfunctioned, so why do we sweep a mental health crisis under the rug and hope that it goes away on its own? Why is one kind of medical care covered by our government’s provided medical system but one isn’t? Why are they any different?

Unless people talk about it, there won’t be a push for a mental health strategy. I don’t love that it takes a corporation like Bell to get the conversation started, but something needs to happen to make mental health matter. If Bell is willing to help encourage us to speak up and keep the conversation going, it’s a step in the right direction. Talking about it drops the stigma.

I’m a little messed up, but when it comes down to it, we all are. I’m just willing to talk about it.
And I hope it encourages you to talk about this kind of stuff too. I’m here.

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Messy inside

  1. Very moving. Thank you for posting. I experience the same thing fairly often (except the not eating part – mine is quite the opposite actually). Oh, and try as I might, I am not a strong woman.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s