My ultimate goal is to becom a Social Worker in a child welfare division. Right now, I am still trying to process my own traumas in therapy. To get through all of the things that happened to me.
I had a reading this week for one of my classes on how a certain targeted group is treated by a group of professionals. Of people who we should trust. It made me sick. To know what year it is and that people still have antiquated attitudes.
Class talks a lot about oppression. This just reminds me that there are certain companies that will not even hire me based on the fact that I have a mental illness. Then there are the interviews that I may get. I have to make sure to cover the scars from all of my self harm.
If I ever do get hired, I will need to listen while people talk about their families, while I cannot talk to mine and they do not want to talk to me. Holidays are hard. Birthdays are hard.
Having a mental illness is somewhat invisible. Sometimes that can be horrible. Times when people talk negatively about anyone who has a mental illness or says that they are not as bad as they seem. I am guilty of trying to hide my panic attacks and pretending to be ok when I am falling to piececs.
I have thought a lot about self harm lately. About how it would relieve some of the pressure and hopelessness for at least a few minutes. Then I think of my kids and my goals. As bad as I feel, I have to keep going and maybe one day, if I get out of the other side I can tell someone that it does get better. It is hell and fighting along the way. One can slip and fall down. It is definitely a rocky pass with obstructions. Yet, a long way down where they may not be able to see is a light at the end. It starts as a speck. That is where I am. I hope the light get bigger and brighter. I want to give others hope that abuse does not define them. That it does not have to keep them back. That their abusers are not the ones with the power any longer.
My abusers are still there. They are still active. I am still going through my dark journey. Sometimes it is not pretty. I think I spent my entire therapy session last time just yelling that I felt that no one cared or could see me. So, things are a struggle. They are hard. Everyday brings something new. Negative or positive. There are so many pints where I want to just stop and say that is enough. No more!! I cannot say it always is better or that the days are always great.
Reality is that there are triggers everywhere. That I have to just breath to get through or leave the room for a few moments. That is my reality.