Mother Dear always told me I had a 'nerve problem'. She told me that I acted just like her sister Alice Marie. I never met the seldom mentioned Aunt Alice, so I never quite understood exactly what Mother Dear meant; until later. I once found a picture of a very pretty woman whose eyes had a look that I knew well. Her eyes were void of any expectation, and filled to the brim with sadness; just like mine.
I never asked Mother Dear who the woman was, but I am fairly certain it was the infamous Aunt Alice Marie.
Poor woman.
Perhaps, she too, was invisible.
I live in a group home. We are encouraged to leave right after our breakfast of hot or cold cereal. The manager is not pleased if we return before late evening. I try to arrive at dinner time. Dinner is usually a boxed pasta dish with iceberg lettuce and french dressing. I hate french dressing, but I hate plain lettuce even more. We have our choice of milk, soda, or water. After dinner, we clean the kitchen. At this home, we are allowed to take a 5 minute shower every night. We may wash our hair every other day, in order to control head lice.
This is one of the better homes, because many places only allow 10 minute showers once a week
.
*When I was younger, I was in a home that had an outbreak of lice; everywhere.
I shaved my head, and stayed awake for 4 days.
I never saw any lice, but the mere thought of bugs crawling around in my head and over my body caused me almost physical pain.
The visiting counselor considered my reaction to be a psychotic episode.
I would do it again.....
For many years, I had a normal life; whatever that is.
During my last year of college, after an attack of 'nerves',,I was told by a university psychiatrist that I had a chemical imbalance. Of course, I was more accurately diagnosed later, but I happen to like the simplicity of 'chemical imbalance'.
It doesn't really matter, because when you see me on the street, walking around with no purpose or destination, my diagnosis is irrelevant.
For most people, I am indeed 'invisible'.
To 'see' us is,,uncomfortable and unpleasant.
I graduated a year later than planned with a 3.9 GPA. I was hired as Personnel Director for a mid-sized computer company. Five days after my 10th anniversary at the company, I had a severe 'nerve attack'.
After I was released from the mental facility six months later, Mother Dear took me home with her.
She kept me hidden away in the back bedroom of my childhood home.
My townhouse was rented out and my furniture was placed in storage. My employers were not as understanding as they could have been; but my life is not supposed to be easy.
Today, my department would be called Human Resources. Does that mean that company policies are more humane?
I wonder...
I managed to stay with Mother Dear for 6 months. I suppose she loves me, but I am such a source of embarrassment to my family, she has a very hard time being compassionate.
At holidays, she would insist on bringing back food for me.
I was never invited to attend family gatherings.
In case you are wondering if I made a shocking spectacle of myself, the answer is,,no. I am quiet by nature, so I sit quietly and watch the people around me. I must admit that if I make a mistake with my meds, or simply because it is the nature of my illness,,,, the voices inside my head will sometimes get louder.
Yes, I understand that the conversation I have learned to have with 'my' voices could be frightening for most people.
I really do understand, but this is my way of coping with my life.
Only twice has this happened in the presence of any of my family.
Twice,, in 46 years of living..
Should I have to apologize for what I am powerless to change?
I left the home of Mother Dear, and entered the first of many group homes over the years.
I have seen many women go home and lead normal productive lives both alone, and with families who love them.
I have also witnessed the complete breakdown of women who are lost within themselves.
The weight of depression and sadness encompasses their entire being.
Being invisible to others is often a part of being mentally ill, but during these times, the person becomes invisible to ,,themselves.
I have been unable to find myself several times during my lifetime.
It could be worse.
God brought me back..
I walk aimlessly around all day because I have no place to go.
If I ask you for food, perhaps I just need you to see me.
If I smile at you, perhaps I just need someone to return my smile.
I am not a worthless, crazy woman who plans to knock you down and rob you.
I am not a thief.
If you see me sitting in the same spot everyday, it is not because I am lazy; I am resting before I continue on my journey..
Perhaps,, I am thinking of my own hopes, dreams,,and fears.
I am human; just like you.
If you see me seemingly talking to myself, do not assume that I am taking illegal drugs.
I am not a drug addict.
I am doing my best to cope with my illness.
An illness that I did not ask for; but still belongs to me.
I have chosen this path over being at home where I am made to feel guilty and ashamed of being,,sick.
I am a woman who knows that God loves me,,just the way I am, with all of my imperfections.
And just like you,,He will never leave me.
I am a real person.
I AM NOT INVISIBLE.....
No comments:
Post a Comment