Battle Symphony: A Load of BS
This post was submitted by one of our Creative Citizens, Faith Perry. As a note, the following blog post may contain language some consider to be offensive.
This is not the therapy your mom told you to go to. Although, if it is, your mom is lit. But also this isn’t therapy. It’s a group of people trying to figure their shit out together.
By the end of this article, I’m going to convince the both of us, that we should get out of the house and into a community. Because community brings healing. I need you to believe that life is worth staying alive for. And I want you to believe that this community, this battle symphony we’re creating, is something that will help you and all of us. We’re going to get to this conclusion in a weird way, because I’m going to write a lot about me. It’s the only topic I know well, and sometimes I don’t even know me that well. All I do know, is that there are a few things I wish the old me knew about mental health that I want to share with you, and I firmly believe in the ability of community to heal people.
First of all, I didn’t start this journey in a community. So nobody told me I was going to have to grieve my mental illness. Now hear me out here. Just like losing and grieving the loss of a limb or some other significant part of your body, you have to grieve was you thought normal life was or should be.
Nobody told me that having a diagnosis was going to feel like I was losing myself. You have to re-learn how to do everything again. Learn how to get out of bed with the weight of depression on your shoulders. Remind your hands how to eat and combat self-loathing. Convince your feet to leave the house because you can’t stay inside forever – even if you want to stay in your bed forever. You’re going to have to learn to smile again. Like, really smile – not that fake shit you’ve been handing out. Nobody told me that this rehab of sorts is hard.
And you can’t do it alone.
Nobody told me a lot of things like this, and the reason nobody told me is because I didn’t know anyone going through the same things. At least I didn’t think I knew anyone with the same struggles. It took a hospitalization for me to figure out that other people actually dealt with this kind of thing. Who knew, right? If I had been involved in a community of other people going through the same thing, or people who had similar experiences, I could have learned all of this a long time ago.
When the idea first popped up to form a peer support group, I wasn’t really into it. How in the world are we going to get people who have a hard time getting out of bed to voluntarily leave the house and talk about their lives? Likely situation. Also is it like alcoholic’s anonymous? Do you track days happy like days sober? This is weird. Turns out, it’s not weird. It’s actually really wholesome and we can do whatever and talk about whatever we want (within reason) because it’s peer led and supported.
While we’re out here, we can talk about all kinds of fun things. For example, we can make lists of all the reasons that mental illness is super not sexy. I started one already. Mental illness is not sexy for the following reasons – which include, but are not limited to…
Complete disregard for hygiene. If you know, you know. I haven’t washed my hair this week either. It’s fine. It’s the new good for your hair, right?
Not wanting to have fun, or go anywhere, or do anything…even if you know things should be fun if things were different.
Anxiety about literally everything.
How am I supposed to get rid of these permanent black circles under my eyes? I’m 22 years old, not 85. C’mon people.
Poor memory, lack of sleep, dissociating, inability to pay attention…the list goes on. We can go through it.
You know what? I’m here for you. And hopefully as a group we can all be here for each other. Even on the unwashed hair days. Some of you aren’t in a place where you can joke about that yet. And the rest of us have been there. Some of us have been there repeatedly. But things get better. It’s ok to feel whatever you’re feeling. But I need you to believe there is more to life than what you’re experiencing.
When I looked back through some of my old writing today trying to find something, anything, that would inspire me to write this post, I saw a sentence I wasn’t expecting to see. It’s something that a community of people who cared about me prevented.
“I was supposed to die on Monday.”
I was supposed to die on Monday…but I didn’t die Monday. Or Tuesday. And reading about how Monday went, I’ll bet Tuesday was pretty crappy. It’s likely that Wednesday was too. But even though things really, and I mean really, felt like they were going to be bad forever, I’m glad I didn’t die Monday. And I’ll never forget all of the people who carried me through that time – and who are glad I didn’t die either. See, the thing is, you can’t come back to accomplish your big dreams. You can’t come up with dreams at all. You’ll never see another sunset. Never have your favorite coffee, never laugh with your best friend, never perfectly clean a lint trap, never cry your eyes out over a sad movie. You’ll never have the chance to do anything.
I remember the first time I went to sleep looking forward to something the next day. I don’t even remember what it was that I was looking forward to, but I told everyone I knew about it. I was like that person who discovered sliced bread. I had never discovered anything so new or wonderful before. This community is also for sharing your joys, accomplishments, and mental wellness.
So we’re here to talk about it. About your experiences, about your life, about your mental illness, your mental wellness, your good coping mechanisms, your bad ones, the way you hate your psychiatrist but love your therapist. The way you think peer support groups are kind of weird but you’re into them.
If you’re the one in five people who struggle with your mental health, come hang out. It’s easier to get up when you have a hand. Or several. Or a whole “village” to help you. Take it from someone who knows.
I’m here for you. And I hope you’ll be here for this too. Through life’s weird transitions. Through your conventional and nonconventional healing. If you need to get a thigh or a wrist tattoo because you won’t self-harm over some fresh new ink, we’re here for that. If baking cookies helps you to de-stress, bring some with you but we’re here for it. If your therapist taught you something really amazing this week, we’re here for that too-me specifically because I am big into hearing about other people’s breakthroughs.
Anyway, I’m not really sure how to conclude this thing in a way that doesn’t sound like your mom trying to convince you to do something good for yourself for a change. If you’ve been following The Listening and all of our Creative Citizens for a while, I’m not the one you usually hear from. I’m super awkward about it. However, I do firmly believe that one of the biggest lies mental illness convinces people to believe, is that you are the only person who is experiencing or who has ever or will ever experience what you are feeling. So I’m out here trying to be loud about this.
And I know this whole concept is based on a different song, but the most relatable song on my playlist right now is “I Wanna Get Better” by The Bleachers. Put that throwback on your mood playlist. If you’re here, like me, you’re hoping things can be better and different. And some part of you must believe that things can get better. So let’s do this thing.
Let’s create a symphony together.
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If you need immediate help, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-TALK (8255) to talk with a trained counselor.