I was finally able to take a little time to catch up on blogs. Boy, am I ever happy I decided two years ago to start my own blog. What a journey it’s been. It is truly a privilege to read all these beautiful stories. Sure, some are sad, but beautiful nonetheless. Cause they speak of human beings trying (and many a time succeeding) to rise above the miseries of life.
One of the posts I read was Anger.
I tried to write some sort of encouraging comment but was instead transported to some sort of a trigger-induced limbo.
After a few seconds of almost-but-not-quite panic, I realized I could control it. And that was very liberating!
I know anger. In my childhood, teens and early 20’s, anger roamed freely. An unbridled beast. It was horrible. I was horrible. I wasn’t mean or anything. But because I could not directly hate my parents, I turned my anger into a terrible temper. People knew well to stay out of my way. Which suited me just fine as I didn’t really wanted to interact with people that much. Eventually I did have friends cause when my anger wasn’t triggered by something (I considered) stupid, I was actually a nice person. And a very empathetic one at that.
It is such a weird thing. I really don’t understand. It doesn’t make ANY sense in my head how I could be so empathetic and sympathetic to other people’s problems but also so angry at so many things.
Anyway, I survived those years, and I still remain close friends with those people from middle and high school. Then, came the children and Med School.
You would think that children and anger would be a terribly devastating combination. But I guess my maternal instincts kicked in and for whatever reason, I started to internalize my anger. Thank goodness cause I’ve seen what terrible damage angry parents can do to children. I almost hit one of those parents at my hospital once, during my Paediatric ER rotation. I had to be removed from the room. That was one of the very few instances where Anger was unleashed again.
However, most of the time it was as Magically Mad says:
I cannot access my anger. I have sadness in spades, I swim in anxiety, and, to reference a Morrissey song, death is always at my elbow, linked.
And now, looking back, it is obvious to see that the less I could express my anger, the more I succumbed to depression. In retrospect -and with the medical knowledge I have now, I can see that depression was there even in my last years of childhood. However, it was not diagnosed until I was in my third year of Med School and only because I was taking Psychopathology and I was like, “holy crap, I think I have Clinical Depression!” After thinking about it for a while, I decided to talk to one of my professors for that course about it. She suggested I saw her at her private practice and after a few session she confirmed my fears. I was already 25, I think.
And thus my “official” battle with Mental Illness officially started. At some point, it was so bad, my treating doctors were considering ECT cause I was not showing any improvement after taking a drug cocktail and 3-times a week sessions.
But I made it. How? I have no idea. Mostly luck, is my educated guess.
I can’t really remember when or how (most likely it was a progressive thing) but by my early to mid-thirties the anger was [mostly] gone.
I was lucky enough to find a
good GREAT psychotherapist. We tried several drugs until I found one that works for me. I am still very sensitive to sad or tragic stories and I always feel anger when I read about the horrible things humans do to each other or to animals but I think that is normal anger. Anyone should be rightfully angered by that, methinks.
Now, I can’t remember the point of this post. Where was I going?
Blogging, I think. How blogging connects people and gives them a chance to learn from others. To feel that you are not alone in your battle. I think that was it.
I am rambling now.
I am happy though. I know that dark times will always lurk at the next turn but I am better prepared to face them. And blogging certainly helps with that.