Many people we encounter day to day do not fulfil the imagined role that people with mental health problems are thought to have. They don’t mope around, they crack on. Some things they say might sound a bit negative and sometimes they may appear a bit down in the dumps but, for the most part, they are just themselves. The friend/family member/colleague that has depression or whatever they have.
Occasionally we see it more clearly, occasionally they have a crisis and get signed off sick and we think it’s come out of nowhere. They were laughing with us just yesterday! Everything was fine one minute and the next they are saying they can’t cope and we wonder what happened to trigger it. They might say that they have been struggling for a while, but if that’s they case, why not let it show?
This is what happens when you are someone who is high functioning with an invisible illness (in my case depression and anxiety).
So many people say ‘but you are ok now!’ or ‘ how did you recover?’ and my answer is no, or I haven’t. I cope. I get by, but the battle is daily and constant. Occasionally it gets too much and the battle overflows into my full consciousness.
I don’t ‘hide’ my illness, I don’t try to pretend I’m ok and I’m not ‘coping’ just because you don’t see the battle within. I just have lived with it for a long time. I am accustomed to this level of despair. I am happy and enjoy my life and at the same time have to work incredibly hard, every day to remember that. It’s just what I do.
Sometimes though, I wish I wasn’t so high functioning. I wish that, when I was feeling really bad it showed. I wish that people could see it and saw it for the illness it is. I wish they would treat it with sympathy and recognise that I might not be able to do as much as normal, that I will be getting more tired, that every interaction will be filled with anxiety. I wish that it was recognised as debilitating so that people saw the effort it is on many days to get out of the house.
I don’t want to be whispered to, or treated like I’m wrapped in cotton wool, but sometimes, I wish that it was an illness that was more widely understood. I just want to say ‘I’m feeling ill today’ and not have to then explain how – that it’s mental, but effects me physically, that even though I laugh and joke and appear happy (and AM happy) I am still battling a terrifyingly intimidating wall of negative thoughts that is collapsing in on me.
I just want to be treated like I would be treated if I had a physical illness, that is widely understood, where people can live with it and get on with their days but still have it easily acknowledged when it’s a bad day.
That’s all I want… But it feels demanding, and largely impossible.
None of this though, is to say that those around me don’t treat me well and with love and care. It’s just that sometimes, when I feel really ill, I want to be able to behave like I feel but because of the illness I have, I can’t. Because it feels selfish, because you can’t see it. So I carry on and rant on my blog about it….
That is all.