I’m feeling pretty low right now. In the office yesterday, I was told to not speak of my personal issues during work time as it looks like I’m giving excuses. Being a girl, especially being a pretty girl – means that my mental illnesses are either a) fetishised or b) brushed aside.
I’ve been told I rank on a hot-crazy scale, that my BPD makes me hotter or that ‘being crazy means you must be into some kinky stuff’.
Depression isn’t pretty. I’ve written this time and time again for my former job, how mental illness isn’t cool and doesn’t add any sort of complexity to your personality, how romanticising mental illness only adds to the stigma sufferers face – I’m sick of writing it out. But it has to be said.
I’m a pretty girl and I choose to put effort into the way I look due to it being self-care and a way to negate the empty feeling BPD gives me. I can’t stop it. I just had a conversation where it was about how people’s baseline understanding and empathy will always differ person to person but I’m feeling low.
I need to learn to chalk up the small wins.