Browsing through Twitter is getting depressing these days. I’ve always known Twitterjaya was cruel (that’s Malaysian Twitter for you), but with the recent uptick in anti-mental illness tweets, it’s making it a little difficult to update this site.
To clarify, I’m not an attention seeker. I feel like I need to preface every post I make about my mental illness with that. It needs to be put up there like a disclaimer or a trigger warning because god knows, I’ve been told that I’m too pretty to have a mental illness. To have that dismissed due to the way I look is disheartening at best.
Being pretty is still a very new thing to me. I’m no man-repeller or maneater (though my former reputation(s) would refute that) but to be seen as conventionally attractive is hard to stomach. A lot of it is bravado, and a lot of it feels like imposter syndrome. The past does not dictate my future but it does shape the person that I am.
As a former wild child, I know the workings of going out of control. I know about unhealthy coping mechanisms and my unhealthy mechanisms. I’ve spent months in a haze, deliberately numbing myself to reality because it was just too painful. Seeking help, and getting the validation that I wasn’t well and there was a chemical imbalance in my head was ultimately gratifying but also, stuck a label on me.
One of the reasons I created the zine was to show victims that they weren’t alone out there. Most people rarely stray out of their comfort zone (me included) and knowing that you’re part of the whatever percent of mentally ill people can lead to a sense of isolation. If you’re seeing someone who doesn’t emphasize or understand your mental illness, it can easily become a clusterf*ck of a disaster.
It’s why I’m working so hard on this zine, despite having my own struggles. Every disparaging tweet I see does bolster my resolve to make this zine work, but also makes me reluctant to share my stories.
I play off my mental health issues the millennial way: with memes and self-deprecating humour. lmao another anxiety attack but hey big mood is only so much better than telling someone that I had a spontaneous ideation where I realized I had everything I needed to hang myself from a ceiling fan.
Yesterday, which is when this post was supposed to go up – I ended up in the A&E of UMMC because my psychiatrist felt I was at risk of killing myself. The ideation was strong and my obsession with committing suicide (sounds like a crime, and it is here in Malaysia) alarmed the psychiatrist. If my mood could be measured on a scale, I was at negative numbers. Between my boyfriend, my mother and my aunt – all of them stayed until 2:30am which is when I was finally discharged and allowed to leave. I’ve made my boyfriend cry, made my mother sick with worry and it sounds stupidly selfish, but sitting in the waiting room with its green walls made me just wonder if I should or shouldn’t.
I hate being mentally ill and I hate being a burden. Between the misery at my current circumstances and the fact that I stress everyone out, I don’t want to be this way anymore. How can I be a good mother if I can’t take care of myself.
Bye for now.