I’m 56 years old, married for 39 years, with 2 adult kids, 2 grandkids, a full time job, born with multiple mental disorders, take crazy meds, see my shrink monthly, sober problem drinker, have been working since the age of 15, when I dropped out high school… And honestly… I’m fucking tired.
Good morning and happy Thursday to all my fellow crazies. It’s a beautiful day with clear blue skies as I settle in at the salt mines and get ready to take my crazy meds and start a new day. One thing I’ve learned on this journey is that taking care of yourself comes first. When you stay on top of your mental health and do what you need to do, you’re in a much better position to help and support others. One day at a time.
Even after a good night’s sleep, I felt tired and sleepy on the way to the salt mines this morning. Maybe it’s just one of those days, or maybe 41 years of working, out of my 56 years of life is starting to catch up with me. Either way, I showed up and kept moving forward. That’s what matters.
Some mornings I wake up already at war with my own mind—violent intrusive thoughts, violent intrusive images and don’t forget the 100 miles per hour racing thoughts, no peace. And still, I get dressed and show up to work. Not because it’s easy, but because I’m still here.
If these thoughts ever feel like you might act on them or you feel unsafe, please call/text 988 right away.