We're a little crazy, about science!

The monsters were never under the bed

It’s funny that as children we all have the same strange fears. There’s monsters under the bed, in the closet, hell the feeling that something will take our foot off in the night is so universal there’s comics making fun of will happen if you leave a foot outside of the sheets. Parents happily reassure our childish beliefs, because it’s true, there are no monsters under the bed. What they don’t tell you is the monsters are real, they just live in your head.

Okay maybe I’m coming in a little hot. Mental illness is hard to describe and while it’s taboo to talk about it, I try to scream from the rooftops that I’m definitely not okay. The hope is that others will feel less alone. It was also the reason why I started my 365 days of academia project, I wanted to share stories so others would see that sometimes the things we think are the most uncommon are really just the least talked about. Since I’ve been having a seriously rough patch of life, as always seems to occur around this time of year for me, I’ve been talking incredibly candidly about my struggle this year.

I try not to bombard the blog with my mental health problems because it always feels like a rehash of the same thing, but it’s hard not writing about it because it’s screaming so loudly at me. My brain and I don’t get along you see. I want to live, or at least I think I do, and my brain constantly tries to convince me that it’s not a good idea to keep going.

Side note, as usual I’m safe, please don’t make me waste energy trying to assure you of this, if I wanted to kill myself truly I wouldn’t bother sharing. I’m sharing because I don’t want to do it and getting it out of my head seems to be the easiest ways to make sure I keep myself safe. I used to call the veterans crisis line (WHICH I HIGHLY RECOMMEND IF YOU’RE A VET), but it’s hard because I need a more permanent type of care and they are like visiting the emergency room, you get patched up and sent out for regular care, so all the effort spent talking to someone only really helps if you need an emergency patch job. This is more like a tooth infection, annoying, painful, debilitating, and deadly if I ignore it long enough, but mostly okay. More importantly, there’s not a lot to do about it without a specialist and long-term care. With that, let’s get back to the topic on hand.

I really have been thinking a lot about how funny it is as a kid thinking there are monsters under the bed, but really they exist inside us. Maybe not at birth, but who can really say? I think they develop over time, they get stronger and develop their own personalities. I have a lot of weird idiosyncrasies about me and those are just the ones I’m aware of. Most of which can be chalked up to just being incredibly anxious, depressed, and just generally unconfident in my life. Which, as you may imagine, is due to those monsters I’m carrying around with me.

No one ever really warns you that this happens and to be fair it doesn’t happen to everyone, at least I hope it doesn’t. I feel like that would be a painful existence if everyone suffered like that. I don’t wish the stuff that goes on in my head for anyone. Of course, I’m probably a special case, or maybe not that special. I have no family, no real friends, no one I can rely on. I am completely isolated and it wasn’t always like that, but that’s how it is now. I don’t wish that on anyone either.

Yeah I’m just spending the post feeling sorry for myself. It’s probably not the most exciting thing.

I’ve been going through a hard time obviously and it feels like the universe is being extra shitty to me. Yesterday I had some delivery and it came with a fortune cookie. Yes, fortune cookies are a US invention, they don’t mean anything and I’m not important enough for the universe to even notice me, much less be crappy to me. I get it, but this felt particularly personal. The stupid fortune said that the real measure of a person isn’t their success, but their happiness.

I don’t even think I remember what it feels like to be happy, so what does that make me?

It was just a stupid fortune cookie, I know that. It just was one more small thing that reminded me that I carry this stuff around in my head. It would’ve been nice to have some warning going into life. Why couldn’t someone just say hey, life is going to be hard, sorry? I guess it wouldn’t really matter, I’m here going through this stuff and there’s no way around it.

I don’t even know where I’m going with this. Maybe it’s just that is hard and mental health issues suck. I wish there was some magic cure, but there isn’t. I know I’m not unique in my situation, but I definitely am alone. I think lacking a support system has been the worst part about all this. I keep telling myself that I can create my own little family and support system, we’re not stuck with the people we’re related to (thankfully), I just haven’t been successful.

Maybe the point of the post is just that if I’m being honest, the fortune cookie was right and I really don’t measure to much.


3 responses

  1. I love this! I love that you scream from the mountains, when you aren’t ok. And if mental health is consuming your thoughts, don’t not (I know I know not proper) write about it because you are worried about your blog being too focused on it. It’s helps people connect on a deeper personal level. Just my two cents! I love your blog. Imma big fan 🖤

    Liked by 1 person

    October 7, 2021 at 10:40 am

    • Thank you! Comments like this always make me feel better about sharing my mental health struggles. I do feel like a broken record sometimes, but it’s nice to know that it’s not particularly annoying.


      October 7, 2021 at 4:30 pm

But enough about us, what about you?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.