The more grief I experience, I want to isolate myself. Isolating myself is nothing that is negative for me, per say. I suffer from [chronic] Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), [severe] recurrent Major Depression, and bouts of suicidal ideation. Isolating myself sometimes works best than my medicine.
No one ever wants to talk about mental illness. It is definitely taboo in the African American community. I’ve had depression for as long as I can remember. I suffered with anxiety my whole life [growing up]… so much so that I would have panic attacks. The kind that would impair my breathing. Anxiety also gave me extreme nervousness that I developed a stutter. I still stutter when I get nervous.
Isolating myself means that maybe I would not be the center of attention anymore and maybe people would forget I exist. I never asked for this. You never know what you’ve been affected by until it hits you… until it hits you like a ton of bricks out of nowhere, you’re going to think you’re doing fine when you’re doing awful.
One thing I’ve learned is, playing victim is something that is afforded to others and not myself. Clearly, people have been bothering me, harassing me, obsessively reading my tweets, and following me around. Disturbing my internal peace. Disturbing my life as it is. I’ve talked to some people I thought would help me more than I’ve tried to help myself and the only solution they could come up with is that I need to be around people when people (and their misjudgment and misunderstanding) are the problem.
This is the first time in my life that I’ve felt powerless. That I’ve felt hopeless. I feel this is an attack more than anything because who have I been bothering? Do I control myself or other people control me? Why seek to have dominion over someone who does not bother a single soul? Has anyone talked to me about what they think I think? No, because they’ve relied on the public. The untrained public to gather “evidence”.
I will say that I will stand to the very end. Even if I am alone, I will stand. Even if no one in the world understands who I am, I will still stand. In the end, I don’t need anyone but God. Over the past couple of weeks, the only person I thought I could depend on to understand me is God. God knows me. God created me. He knows every fiber in my being. The hurt I have experienced last year and this year, it is a wonder that I am still alive.
I have decided to think about what I can do next to help my situation instead of continuing to self-destruct. Positive thoughts and vibes.