“It is safe to assume that, no matter how it appears, the attempt probably did not come out of the blue. Look for clues. Some possibilities include a family history of mental illness, a history of abuse, unusual or stressful family dynamics, prior diagnosis or evidence of a psychiatric disorder, and/or bizarre behavior long before, or in the days or weeks immediately preceding the crisis. Part of your job is to be a detective, assembling the pieces in the puzzle that is depression.” ―Andrew Slaby
I shared this because someone triggered me this morning, and all I feel is anger towards their neglect of me as a human-being. Let me rephrase that. They do not have the decency to treat me like a human-being, and I will be gaslighted for saying so.
I was triggered via a threat. Growing up in an abusive home and experiencing threats non-stop (that was my life for over fifteen years), this person SHOULD know better than to say something in an “attack” manner, but they don’t care enough to say something kind and helpful because they want me to feel threatened. They want to diminish who and what I am.
My entire worth is summed up by what I do for them, and then I am told I am worthless when I can’t do it all. Let’s set aside the fact that I am waiting to see my doctor and have him order x-rays after I fell over the weekend. I’m struggling to move around, especially because my right leg took the brunt of the hit. It felt like my leg had disappeared, and down I went. I am lucky there was no damage to my hands or head, though my right wrist was tweaked quite a bit. My knee, ankle, and foot feel like someone beat me with a baseball bat. I have a deep bone bruise in my knee. I can feel it. My ankle pain is maddening, and I’ve been treating the swelling. Being injured gives me time to think and I am overwhelmed with emotion at the moment.
I was born with the genetic predisposition for suicidal depression. My paternal Grandmother’s side of the family was rife with mental health issues, and I’m angry and annoyed that it skipped two generations and landed on me. My father’s niece and nephews are too stupid to grasp the concept of mental health, and they’re much older than my brother and I. There was a huge age difference between my father and his brother. My Grandmother thought she was going through menopause before a doctor told her that, no, she was actually pregnant with my father. “He wasn’t supposed to be here.”, that’s what she told my mother! Alas, I digress.
If you’re going to treat me like some imperfect, disgusting creature and never take the time to sit down with me and make a plan for how to best achieve something, I am always going to be triggered by the behavior. In turn, I am going to confront this head-on. I cannot spend hours feeling like this any more. It’s my time to rise and to shine, and I am not permitting myself to be brought down.
You can achieve a lot more with honey than you can with vinegar.