Courtesy of beggarsandbread (click photo for link).
Day 9. What is your worst quality?
This has been the easiest one to answer without thinking too much, I am my worst quality. Yes, you read it correctly.
I have battled with depression since the death of my father, probably earlier than that if I’m honest, only, I never recognised it until many years later. I always assumed it had everything to do with my menstrual cycle. Oh, the naivety of youth. What I’m trying to say is, my brain’s wired differently. I’m missing a switch, so to speak. You see, I have to program myself to act the correct way, tell myself its okay to feel a certain way.
It hasn’t been easy. Try imagining waking each morning with the inability to understand how to think or feel on your own, without allowing yourself the opportunity to choose. What would you do? Well, I had this room locked away inside my head. Within this room were neatly stacked boxes. And inside those boxes were masks of heightened emotions I had yet to control.
Anger would explode into a black rage. Sadness, all-consuming. Happiness that bordered on maniacal. All because I didn’t have an emergency cut-off switch. So the way I dealt with it, I picked a new, bright and shiny mask. Deceit. I mastered its use to an exceptional degree, fooling everyone around me, including myself. However, over time, each one of those masks became tarnished and cracked, even my latest acquisition, until I finally broke. I won’t go into detail, this isn’t the time or the place for bearing my soul, but it wasn’t pretty.
That was three years ago, after a gruelling journey of C.A.T. (Cognitive Analytical Therapy) sessions. I still have slips and sometimes find myself storing the odd box or two when I forget to use the switch. But, I do listen to my body now, and know that its okay if I need a day of slobbing in my PJ’s, or to feel sad or happy.
Am I still flawed? Yes, without a doubt. The journey will never be over, but at least I’m there in mind and body to continue the trip this time.