Ahhh living life in your thirties. A pivotal time when one comes to the realization of life and how we don’t have the time we think we do. Some of us spend the rest of our lives trying to accomplish so much that by time we can actually enjoy it, we die.
And the “others” just get a free ride. Someone taught them how to be successful in life without having to worry about the money, making mistakes, and etc.
But did they?
One thing that I have always found quite interesting is the connection between human beings and money.
I’ve met people who come from families that provided financially and gave their children everything and anything, only for them to grow up and frown upon the lower income households and how they have to survive in life.
And I’ve met people who have come from absolutely nothing. No generational wealth, no college education, and those people usually are the kind souls. The people who understand what the world truly is and still smile through the delusional bullshit.
I was once friends with a girl who one random morning decided to run to Facebook and express her feelings on people who don’t have a college degree. I knew exactly that the post was meant for me – and at the time I was struggling so hard with postpartum depression that I almost let her get to me.
Instead, I realized that this is someone herself that claims to live with Bipolar Disorder. Yet, she’s putting me down the drain as I myself suffer at the hands of a psychiatrist for nearly three years.
This is someone I’ve known through childhood into adulthood.
Let’s just make this short and sweet: She’s the type of person who was spoiled. Absolutely accomplished nothing even with an associates degree. Lived life off of her parents and then turns around and acts if she did it on her own. Like she made the money and not her parents.
Another one whos runs to social media and promotes mental illness/mental health by sharing posts online, but in reality doesn’t give a shit about those who truly suffer.
She’s not the only person that I’ve seen this with. I’ve seen this so many times in my life, including men, and at this point in my life I just laugh maniacally.
Because you know why? When you live with mental illness whatever the diagnosis may be, eventually you start to learn a thing or two. It may take years, but eventually the puzzle completes itself.
“Take your medications!!!” was said to me exactly the last time about six years ago.
Six years ago I broke free from a psychiatrist who did nothing but shovel Klonopin, Ativan, and Xanax down my throat until I could no longer function. Not in that specific order, but they changed each and every single month.
After him, I found relief in actual talk therapy. One on one personal recorded sessions once a week for over a year.
Why were they recorded?
- For therapists in training and for them to really grasp the reality and truth surrounding mental illness.
- To leave electronical and paper footprints of my mental illness journey and how far I’ve come to prove myself that I’m a stable person who temporarily lost control of her life.
- It was an emotional time in my life and I needed to be honest with myself and the world.
Look at what happens when you tell someone you are suffering from untreated postpartum depression, this is the typical response. How can anyone live a normal life with these demonic and life-altering drugs.
I am truly proud of myself for walking away from that lifestyle. For so long, I thought these orange bottles were going to be apart of me until death do us part.
Not all medications are bad. I should make that a point. Millions of people need certain medications to function and survive. Even with mental illness.
But here’s the part that doesn’t make any sense to me though. Eventually you become overmedicated – one combination of a cocktail that I can remember was around 900 total mg of Lithium, followed by a splash of 100mg of Prozac, and top it off with 1 mg Klonopin.
Literally each month of treatment plans and cocktails ALWAYS changed. The next month would be Depakote, Zoloft, and Ativan. And then again and then again and again and again…..
I’ve spent time with people like me – voluntarily surrounded by people who were warped by some form of trauma or personal experience that left us a bit “cracked open” and unstable. And those were some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Normal humans beaten down by society until were locked away. All we wanted was kindness, acceptance, with love and support.
I’ve walked up the psychiatric medication counter and stated my name and stuck out my tongue to show I’ve swallowed the pills.
And I have been judged through it all.
But now that it’s all over and I can think clearly and responsibly, it’s time for me to go any way the wind blows.
Let the wind blow me into the unknown direction of change. Let fate have me stumble upon my destiny without overthinking.
Now I can see more clearly. The here and now, the past and present, and the future and the beyond.
I actually gave myself the second chance at life and started to put the work and effort into it. That’s not easy but it is kind of what you have to do.
So I’m not exactly where I want to be in life, who is anymore? You know when you stop and think for moment, some people will never get a chance in life and it’s heartbreaking.
Most of us do not think this way, I’ll admit it myself I never cared about others like myself until I went down the road of self-realization.
Someday, If I ever became a like a billionaire, I would love to start a program to help others out and get them on the right path. Sometimes that’s all it really takes is just a bit of help to get the blood circulating again. Yet, we live in a world where most of us frown upon the idea of helping those in need, even when those people were unaware someone helped them.
In a strange and twisted way, I’m glad it happened to me. It forced me to grow up, accept the things I cannot change, and just do the best that you can.
I like to consider myself an observer and just absorb it all in so I can learn.
Learn that I don’t have to stay friends with people from high school just because of comfortability.
That I don’t look down upon those less fortunate than us.
And that I really do have the power to change myself into a woman that’s a mother on the road to a college degree, emotionally expressing myself through paintings, and can take care of herself mentally, physically, and spiritually.
My one wish is that I can pass this on to my children – for them to always treat anyone with kindness regardless of social and economic background, respect for life itself, and appreciation for what we have now.
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