#WorldMentalHealthDay

Today is #WorldMentalHealthDay, so let's talk about it. The things no one likes to talk about...the things we tend to hide, because we don't think other people understand. And some of them may not, but one in four people are affected by mental illness, and the rate is much higher in my house, and in my family, in general.

(Source: https://healthnhappyness.wordpress.com/tag/mentalhealth/

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I had social anxiety from a young age, probably stemming from a traumatic childhood. I was awkward, I didn't fit in, but I didn't stand out. It seemed that in school, my lack of social skills was always linked with my intelligence, but never in the way I needed. I was accused of acting as if I felt I were better than my classmates, by an administrator who should have known better; the reality was, I didn't understand why, if I knew the answer and someone else didn't, I shouldn't give the answer. And so, it was my fault. My attitude was the problem. In my mind, my attitude was fine.

Things got better when they got stable, I noticed, but that didn't stop me from experiencing depression in my teens, and still to this day.

But when, for the first time in my life, my mom settled down with the man to whom she is still married, and I got to stay at a school from middle school until graduation, my 'attitude' changed, well, at school, anyway.

I was often told I was "too smart for my own good" and I never felt like I fit in anywhere...which explains the many "phases" I went through (goth, prep, nerd - well, let's be honest, I was always a nerd!).

I certainly didn't "find myself" in high school. I got along with everyone because I was no longer the "new girl" - I became one of them, kind of. I know people still thought I was odd, but I found a group of equally odd characters, between academic team, drama club and all the other extracurricular activities I threw myself into. But then there was a bump, a really big bump, in my road and I derailed. Junior year was a rough one for me. I bounced back senior year, and really found myself in college, though.

That's not to say I've not battled my demons, as has everyone...more just to say, hey, I've had them, too. I still have them, only now, I can put them in those little monkey harnesses and take them for a walk (only kidding, we don't have monkey harnesses...oh, and my kids aren't demons, most days).

Being a mom is hard. I feel like I'm screwing it up, every day. I mean, they're still alive, so I must be doing something right (always look on the up side!)

But sometimes depression takes over my life; all I have the energy to do is sit on the couch with them and watch movies; go through the motions. They get home cooked meals, not every night, but who is counting? They have clean clothes, they get bathed, they're loved. Even in my worst moments, they're loved.

So yes, I suffer from depression, and I'm using that expression because it is suffering. It's not a fun world, when you feel constantly at fault for no reason perceivable to others, when you're just sad-to-the-bone for the most minute of reasons (ugh, I have to go to the grocery? put real pants on?! and then I have to cook dinner?)...

Depression makes me tired; I don't want to use it as an excuse, but there it is. I'm tired. But it's not just depression, it's my lifestyle - I'm a caregiver to twins on the spectrum, I live with an adult who is probably on the spectrum, I'm an adult who is probably on the spectrum...It's my weight, it's my medical conditions (fibromyalgia, chiari malformation)...I have a diagnosis of anxiety and depression, as well.

And you know what? It's okay. That's all I wanted to say...is that it's okay to not be okay, but it's also okay to ask for help, to talk to someone, to let it out.