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I Am Not My Diagnosis

Just let me be as I am.

By C.J. DaltonPublished 6 years ago 3 min read
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Sometimes, us as humans forget that others are humans too. We will see someone with a broken leg, we will say that we are so sorry and hope they are better soon. But when we hear someone has a mental illness, we will say that they are just attention seeking and that they should get over it. Outcasted. For what? That their minds work in a different way?

When I was a child, I was raised to respect and love every living thing in this world. To not judge but admire the world we live in. That in this world we are all strangers on journeys of our own trying to find a way. However, we have seemed to have lost sight in what we all are. Humans.

There’s no definition for a normal human being, but there is one for insane and crazy. Apparently that looks like me, my best friend, most likely a neighbor, a friend, a parent, a grandparent, a sister, a brother, a daughter or son. When you mention to someone you have a mental illness someone will point out that “you don’t look mentally ill” or “but why would you have friends and go out?” or my personal favorite “just get over it.” Like mental illness has a certain physique.

My depression will keep me locked away from the outside world. Hidden in my own bed. So no one can see my tears. I can just stay there for days and do nothing. My anxiety, on the other hand, makes sure I can’t leave the house or doing anything that isn’t perfect. Over and over again I will remind myself that I am fat and I need to lose weight. This brings me down, therefore I will stay in bed. But the voices will keep on shouting at me that I need to be skinnier. However, I will always remain in my bed. I always think I am too tall, I need to be smaller. I can’t change my height, so I will always walk with my head down so I can try and look smaller than I am. The one that often gets pointed out to me, mainly back when I was in school is that I am crazy. I have this sort of manic persona that doesn’t always appear. Not to my family or close friends, but in places where I want every single person to like me. I will be this big, overbearing character that will be too much and will take things way too far so people will notice and like me. I want them to notice me, I want them to love me because I can’t find a way to love myself.

Like any other human on the planet, I am daily reminded of my flaws. I am reminded that I need to lose weight, I am tall for a lady and I am definitely am a crazy chick. That I should just say to my mind, “you know what I am evicting you, fuck off.” What happens, though, when your mind is your only main companion? I may joke that I am a girl with three moods and several personalities, but I am still me? Right?

I came to the conclusion that I am not my diagnosis. I am the girl with the messed up sleeping pattern because I find it extremely difficult to fall asleep some nights and some mornings I find it extremely difficult to wake up. I am the girl who will love people for miles and miles because even though I know I am loved, I still just want to be loved and reminded that I am. I am that random nerdy girl who will quote Carrie Fisher to all her friends because she was afraid but did it anyway, but me? I only can do my best which never seems to be good enough. I will always be that girl who does the random of the craziest shit because to me life has no warning label. I am who I am, not a label, not a diagnosis. Plain old me. A simple human making her own journey into the abyss we call life. Just let me be as I am.

stigma
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About the Creator

C.J. Dalton

19, Welsh, creative writer and thinker.

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