with not despite

. . . I sometimes wonder if various important events in my life alongside my mental illness make for reading that’s TMI or gratuitous.

But it’s this experience of squeamishness that makes blogging about mental health both important and necessary. Because if I don’t put my hand up and say ‘hey, this is what I’m dealing with’, how will I find my community? If I don’t talk in greater detail than the average public health campaign about anxiety, depression, mania, stability, racing throughts, paranoia, and so on, how can my community find itself a language where we can relate to each other? I know I need to sit through the stress that comes with blogging. There’s a wider aim than just expressing myself (though that’s an aim too).

I’ve only had brief times when I am able to ignore my mental illness. Not everyone is so lucky, and generally speaking I am constantly embedded in the daily rituals of mental illness. Put in a routine (I’m not naturally routine-inclined), sleep all night, take meds, do exercise, see others for the sake of seeing others. Blogging about mental health is paying respect to just how invasive mental illness can be.

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