At constant war with your mind?

We're not weak; we're Bad Ass

There is a great irony, isn’t there? That there are those who consider mental illness to be a weakness within a person? That those with depression and anxiety are simply not of strong enough mind and character to calm it, resolve it on their own?

The irony is this—what could be stronger and require more fortitude than to have to constantly exist in a head space, that is a state of perpetual battle? When even your own mind constantly, all throughout the day, betrays you?

Those of us whose minds spin in circles, obsessively, with spirals of thoughts, understand this struggle. Whether it’s anxiety-driven thoughts, depression-driven thought, suicide ideation-driven thoughts, whatever the diagnosis it, I know there are a lot of us out there.

Even if you don’t have anything like this—lucky you, just humor me—for a moment—contemplate what that would be like?

All of sudden we don’t seem so weak. On the contrary, we seem rather bad ass. Tough AF.

I remember those movies like “What Women Want” with Mel Gibson, or others where there are characters hear the inner monologue of others, involuntarily and constantly? And after awhile they don’t want to hear others’ thoughts but they are bombarded with them and from all different directions? Overwhelming, no censor, no peace or off button, one on top of the other, all.of.the.freaking.time? And then they start to go a bit mad?

That can be what it is like for some.

I won’t speak for all of us, but for me, yes, for sure. That happens. Not always. I’m better when I’m exercising, properly medication, on a good diet, etc. But that is a familiar scenario to me.

I don’t know if the spiraling thoughts always are a part of depression and anxiety, but they are often listed as common symptom.

For me, it’s hard to tell how much of it is just the genetic component I’ve been dealt or just who I am. Perhaps also the environment where and how I grew up.

But I worry a lot. And apparently always have.

My mother used to say she worried (hah) about how much I worried. So much so that, as a little girl, she bought me these little worry dolls as a child, hoping to alleviate some of my excessive worrying and overthinking. You were supposed to assign each one a worry and they would go and take care of the worry at night while you slept. Cute idea.

So, for me, it started young. Realizing I had a mind that rarely shut off.

And even today, when my mind does rest it is usually only with the help of a lot of sleepy time supplements to reach that lull, so I can go to bed at night and actually rest and get a good night’s sleep.

Now, It’s not all bad.

And the truth is that I am very, very thankful for my mind. Yeah, it gets me in trouble sometimes when I overthink, and it can and does drive me batty, but my mind is also largely responsible for my life and where I am today.

The capabilities of my mind helped me to earn my doctorate, to leave the Panama bubble where I grew up, to move beyond that depressed (and depressing—to me) area and to move beyond my family’s socioeconomic status. It is, in large part, because of my mind, one that enjoys thinking and reading and learning.

I am a very deep thinker. I both like to think and sometimes wish that I didn’t think so much.

(I think this is sometimes why I enjoy spending time with people who do a good job of just…being. They teach me to just relax, to watch tv, to just…be. Laugh at simple things.

I mean this sincerely, not patronizingly or condescending. I am genuine. I long for a blank slate sometimes. Thinking a lot and not being able to stop can be exhausting.

So…To just turn off your mind can seem like a dream—no wonder people with anxiety are known to abuse drugs.

All this thinking, thinking, thinking all the time…it can feel really unhealthy.

It is debatable, what is normal, but in a neurotypical person, a non-mentally disabled person, I think it is easier to achieve that blank slate, at least, occasionally being able to do so.

So, I feel sometimes that I both need to and enjoy observing how others do it, just being. I like to pretend, to believe, that I can learn this skill and do it too….to just relax and be. Even when it feels like I don’t often achieve this.)

I know I focus a lot on depression and anxiety here, but I just want to say—There are so many other conditions, so many others, where people also are at war with their minds:

For example: ADD, ADHD, borderline personality disorder, bipolar disorders, schizophrenia, among others.

So many others…where people feel like their minds/attention spans/thoughts are not always their own or in their control.

People on the outside, family members, partners, parents, friends, colleagues, etc, may think that they also endure some of these struggles, second-hand, as well. Like second-hand smoke.

I am sure they do. I recall hearing recently that the only thing worse than having a mental illness is being in a relationship with someone with a mental illness. (Glennon Doyle)

Indeed. But, on the other hand, at least it exists as external forces for you. You can retreat to your own quiet, separate place, your own mind that doesn’t spin like a top. :)

In all seriousness, I do feel for partners who want to help and to understand, but simply can’t really get it because it’s not their own embodied experiences. Not judging and understanding a mental illness as a condition, physiologically, rather than as a mental weakness or moral or faith shortcoming, could be an important first step. Gratitude. Humility, Gentleness. We’re trying.

It is hard, but mental illnesses can and do come with gifts as well, a unique perspective, sometimes an intuition and sensitivity, a unique lens from which to see the world.

I know, for me, I can take these mental experiences and learn from them and apply them to how I view the world. They help me to consider angles and struggles of people through a specific lens and, because of this, I believe it has taught me to be a much more empathetic, compassionate and humble person. Because of this genetic hand that I’ve been dealt and had to play.

So, if you’re someone who feels sometimes or usually, or even occasionally, at war with your mind, I just want to say this—

You’re bad ass. You’re not weak. You’re a fucking bad ass.

To borrow my cousin’s phrase, you could “call it your superpower.”