Snap Out of What?

It occurs to me that, having laid out all my broken-ness here online, I may be creating the impression that I take no responsibility for myself.  This is definitely not the case.  I know more than anyone that I'm ultimately responsible for making sure my mental health issues are monitored and treated.  I get that.  And I've failed at that in the last couple of years, with spectacular results.  When I started my new job, I should have immediately sought out my doctor and restarted treating myself to avoid spiraling out of control, and I didn't do that.  It's probably one of the bigger regrets of my life.  I thought I was okay, and I wasn't, and I didn't see it until it was too late.

Having said that, I also get that many people don't see this as a real illness.  They think maybe I (and people like me) are just moody, or selfish, or whatever.  Fair enough.  It's only been relatively recently that mental illness has come out of the closet, so to speak.  My parents' generation was probably the last to have the mindset that all you need to do is "Snap out of it."  Hell, plenty of folks in my own generation are of the same idea.  So okay, I understand that the solution of "Snapping out of it" seems rather obvious.  And I guess it is.  But this is an illness, no doubt, and it can be just as devastating as any physical ailment, because it is physical.  It's about the brain, and how it's wired (or unwired, as the case may be).  The brain is part of your physical self, and if it's damaged or broken, the symptoms are felt for real.

Telling someone with major depression to snap out of it is like telling someone with kidney disease to snap out of it.  You can't just will yourself better, no matter how much you want to.  You need medical and psychological help.  Unfortunately, there's no magic shot or pill that does the trick.  Medication does help (the jury's still out on the Prozac right now), but if you have reasons to be sad, anxious, or afraid, it's not like a pill is going to take those reasons away.

So anyway, I do understand that it's my job to treat me, and I now understand even better the dangers of failing to do that.  So all I can do is keep trying.  And I will.  That's a promise from me to me.