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Juu discovers The Icarus Project, or: a brief rant on mental health issues.
Don't mind me—I just discovered The Icarus Project so I'll be over here, repeatedly banging my head against the wall.
(And for the record: Yes, my various mental health issues over the years would have been dramatically different if they hadn't been considered diseases and defects that needed to be changed for the good of society, and so that I could be reintegrated into it. At this point I've given up trying to "cure" myself, and am fully content to recognize that my mental health conditions define who I am, and fuck a culture or society that denies that, or denies me as a result. But it's a far leap between self-acceptance and ownership, and celebrating the disease. Because here's the thing, my friends: even if the world around me had been ideal, forgiving, understanding, supportive, and elsewise perfect when I fell sick, I still would have been sick. Half the pain of mental illness is all the social suffering and baggage that comes with, which is why I'm so upfront about this shit now. The rest of the pain? IS THE ILLNESS. That shit doesn't go away, no matter how you relabel and reclaim. Trying to pretend it does does nothing at all to help combat it. It can only hurt.
And yes, this is 110% subjective, and my experiences and mental health issues are not indicative of anyone else's. But caveats aside: go fuck yourself, man, and get off my flist.
And now this magical fucking madman is gonna go make the bed.)
(And for the record: Yes, my various mental health issues over the years would have been dramatically different if they hadn't been considered diseases and defects that needed to be changed for the good of society, and so that I could be reintegrated into it. At this point I've given up trying to "cure" myself, and am fully content to recognize that my mental health conditions define who I am, and fuck a culture or society that denies that, or denies me as a result. But it's a far leap between self-acceptance and ownership, and celebrating the disease. Because here's the thing, my friends: even if the world around me had been ideal, forgiving, understanding, supportive, and elsewise perfect when I fell sick, I still would have been sick. Half the pain of mental illness is all the social suffering and baggage that comes with, which is why I'm so upfront about this shit now. The rest of the pain? IS THE ILLNESS. That shit doesn't go away, no matter how you relabel and reclaim. Trying to pretend it does does nothing at all to help combat it. It can only hurt.
And yes, this is 110% subjective, and my experiences and mental health issues are not indicative of anyone else's. But caveats aside: go fuck yourself, man, and get off my flist.
And now this magical fucking madman is gonna go make the bed.)