I wonder, too, about the people that suggest taking deep breaths when I am in the midst of a panic attack. I try to be gracious, to educate, but I really want to say "You have no idea what it is like to have your heart galloping faster than a race horse and your blood feel like ice." And no idea what it is like to not know what you are afraid of, just that you are terrified.
Mostly, I wonder about the people that suggest taking a walk and breathing deeply and counting my blessings as anecdotes for the crippling depression I feel. I am all for beautiful days and centered, cleansing breaths. I absolutely know that I am lucky, blessed beyond measure, that my problems are first world problems. But I also know that when my symptoms are at their worst it hurts to breathe. Getting out of bed to shower, brush my teeth, even use the bathroom takes forethought and planning - nevermind taking a walk to enjoy the changing leaves or blooming trees or a crisp winter day. And minimizing my disease as being "all in my head" only creates shame and limits my ability to ask for help.
When I am healthy - physically, emotionally, mentally - I am constantly aware of how I am feeling. I do self checks to see what hurts? Am I really tired or is this sleepy feeling something that needs extra attention? I am hyper vigilant about taking my medicine, in touch with close friends, and I do make time to feel the sunshine and deeply breathe the fresh air. Those are all things that maintain wellness, not things that "cure" depression.
There is no cure. Not one. No amount of exercise, healthy eating, fresh air, meditation, yoga, or wishful thinking will make this go away. What does help those with depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, personality disorders, and/or another mental illness is compassion. Education. Reduction of stigma. Understanding. Those all help, each one makes a difference. A difference I, and the many others who get "sick," will appreciate beyond measure.
The dualism of healthy cognizance or at least awareness and ideological misrepresentation are fully explored in your writing. It is the same as an observer gazing at Wassily Kandinsky’s Composition VII, where the economy of the painting forces the eye into a state of complexity and that same observer looking at Edvard Munch’s The Scream, where symmetry and balance are observable and the economy seems intact, yet both men come from the movement of Expressionism. Wassily, a man of abstraction and Edvard, a man of symbolism. Mental illness is such that despite the ebb of our souls during such low moments, whether through distortion or focalized control; it takes friends, family and loved ones coupled with medication to produce the masterpiece of who one can prospectively and will be; despite the observer or observed. Great post!
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