Been chatting to my daughter person about ableism this morning and it has made me think about something.
This is purely personal as everyone has a different experience of mental illness.
What if I am not right to sometimes hate my brain?
Even more of a mind blowing thought.
What if my brain doesn't actually hate me?
What if my PTSD isn't my brain trying to fuck me over but it trying to protect me?
Maybe, all this time, I've been looking at it from the wrong perspective. Maybe when I am severely triggered and absolutely convinced that if I leave my bed I will die or be killed this isn't my brain trying to not let me have nice things. Maybe it is telling me to stop and try and process. Trying to keep me safe. To borrow an analogy from @graygender it is like a bodyguard shouting "GET DOWN MR PRESIDENT!" when it senses danger.
Maybe the Black Dog is not stalking me, but guarding me as much as it can to make sure that I remove myself from unhealthy situations and just, you know, stop. Just for a while.
Seems to me that my brain could be doing a better job to be honest. It gets it wrong a LOT. It cripples me just when I am about to do new things or am feeling happy and trusting.
But maybe, just maybe it isn't doing so out of maliciousness.
Maybe, just maybe, it is doing so out of some misguided attempt to keep me safe.
I don't have any answers for this yet but it is probably something I will revisit on here while I try to work it out. For me.
Thank you for this. Thought-provoking x
ReplyDeleteThank you. Still don't have any answers but it's a work in progress x
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