December 5, 2017

credit: Gonzalo Viramonte

Today I feel high.  I feel high on myself, my expectations, my future.  My friends are supportive and happy.  My daughter is hilarious and excelling in everything.  The moon is full and bright. The holidays are making their presence known.  Work is busy and lucrative.  I giggle at the slightest happy event that has happened in the past 72 hours.  Patients are witty and thankful and full of grace.

But I know it will pass.

I am trying to realize that this mild dysthymia is part of my rhythm and my biology, but it is such a monster to deal with.  In one to two weeks my mood will shift to one of ennui or melancholy.  I don’t have the liberty to let it hang out with the rest of my personality because I always have to be “on”.  With life, patients, my child, family and me.  Too many things demand my focus and attention and a slip due to capriciousness could be harmful to those around me.

So, what’s the goal?  Hope? Clarity? Normality? But what is normal? Do I want to be normal or me? What is normal?

It’s exhausting.

I live in Oklahoma where mental health funding is in a crisis mode.  There still seems to be stigma not only in the general population but by the way our legislators are acting in the government as well.  It’s not sexy or remunerative enough to lure those becoming medical providers to practice and I feel it is grossly misunderstood.

In the spirit of bringing awareness to mental health I am encouraged to share these personal stories so others will know that it is not something to be taken lightly, is truly an illness like diabetes or high blood pressure, and should be given as much attention as any other lethal and chronic disease.

I would love to hear other stories.


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