Little Fire

Labels and Anti-Ds

Posted by Boo , Thursday, April 1, 2010 2:00 AM

Depression

Generalized Anxiety Disorder

Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder


All of those labels apparently apply to me. And I'm glad someone gave them to me. I really am. I needed them. When I left my ex I was such a mess of undefined but overwhelming emotions, these labels gave me some way to organize everything I was doing and feeling and experiencing. They allowed me to put one foot in front of the other, which -- some days -- was a monumental task.

My therapist held my hand during this period. When I left Houston, and left her, she was proud that I was no longer recounting my more harrowing experiences like I was reading the week's grocery list. She gave me some of these labels, and hooked me up with specialists of all kinds who gave me others, and gave me medicine.

That medicine saved me life, and my daughter's life, I have no doubt. I extend that to my daughter, because if I couldn't function, I couldn't care for her. At the time I likened it to me getting my oxygen mask on before putting hers on. I needed to be able to breathe.

So I've been breathing.

But since it became clear that my health insurance would soon lapse and I wouldn't be able to afford more, so I began tapering my mood stabilizers so I wouldn't fall off a cliff (btdt, not doing it again), I began thinking that I didn't want them anymore, anyway.

Since I have been off of them, I've experienced some not-so-fun things...but I've also touched base with the me I used to know many years ago. She had many weaknesses I'd like to work on, but she was also amazing in so many ways.

One characteristic of this pre-label me that I appreciate is she was not easily intimidated. She may have suffered a lot of abuse at home...but in the world nothing scared her. She was funny, irreverent, edgy...she had a kind of masculine confidence that only survivors have.

She was a survivor.

This label-wearing-mood-stabilizer-taking person had little in common with the me I've always known.

I know these labels are mine. They're accurate. I don't hate them. I know those medicines saved my life, but I am READY to be me again.

Because understand, I did feel some power in my abusive environments.

"You can't hurt me."

I can't tell you how many times that thought saved me. You can do anything you want to me, but you can't hurt me. I'm not even here.

Now I think I can say "You won't hurt me."

Maybe I can find a way to integrate the survivor identity with "aware" identity, because one thing is for 100% sure...

I'm. So. Sick. Of being a victim. I rebel against that label. I won't wear it. I'll own everything else, but I will not wear that label.

It's not me.