Kathleen's Story - Mental Health

A mental health disability is a condition that affects how a person thinks, feels, or behaves, and can make everyday life more difficult. Examples include Depression, Anxiety Disorders, and Bipolar Disorder. These conditions can affect things like work, school, relationships, and daily tasks. They can be short-term or long-lasting. With the right support—like therapy, medication, and help from others—many people are able to feel better and live full, meaningful lives.

Tell me about yourself. What would you like people to know about you?

I am a 58-year-old mom, now an empty nester.  I taught school for a year and worked for 10 years as a medical transcriptionist, but my hardest, most important job was as a mother.  I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

My dad was an architect and artist, and I grew up surrounded by art. I loved and respected art, but I didn’t have the talent to be an artist. Now that my daughter is out on her own, I am taking lessons in several different art media and I am working hard to improve my skills. I love to travel and see new things even though leaving the house can be scary. I’m a voracious reader and someone who journals about daily life, dreams, and feelings.

Art has always been a safe space for me, an anxious empath. I experienced separation anxiety at a young age when my mom went into the hospital for a few days for an operation.  I thought she was never coming back. I was a fearful, anxious child who grew into an anxious, often depressed, distrustful teenager and young adult.  

What is your disability? How does this impact your life? 

I saw my first psychiatrist at age 6. I’ve seen so many mental health professionals that I’ve lost count. I’ve been treated for anxiety, panic attacks, agoraphobia, OCD, depression, and even bipolar (but I don’t believe that diagnosis for a second). I’ve been on so many different medications for anxiety and depression. They lose their effectiveness over time and then I have to switch to something else. I’ve been on psych meds since I was maybe eighteen.  I often wonder who and what I’d be without them.  I’d like to find out.  I’m afraid to find out.

Depression, anxiety, OCD, agoraphobia…they’ve been a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse. I’m an extremely sensitive person. I can walk into a room of people and pick up on the energy there. I know who’s happy, who is angry, who to suspect is up to no good. I fall apart in crowds; the energy is overwhelming. I’m drained for days.  

What have you learned from your experiences? 

To protect myself from things that will cause me to be anxious, depressed, or fearful, I largely stay home and surround myself with things that comfort me: my artwork, books, music, and writing.  This comfort, however, comes at a large price. I’ve become shut off from the world because it’s all too much. I have few friends. I rarely go anywhere. Sometimes I feel like I’m stagnating. I feel sad that the world is going on without me.

What are some benefits you have encountered from having your disability? 

My mental health issues have enabled me to feel deeply. I’ve been moved to tears by a beautiful painting or the view of lush, green countryside. I see with an artist’s eyes. Beauty is everywhere if you know how to see. The same eyes that see beauty, however, also see scenes of sadness, decay, disappointment, and failure, and they are heavy weights on me.

I’m working on how to make sensitivity my superpower. I don’t want to believe that I was made this way simply so I could be crushed by life. I know what it’s like to be so sad that it’s almost impossible to get out of bed. I know what it’s like to be so anxious and panicky that I feel like I’m going to rip out of my body. What I don’t know is how to use this knowledge to help others.

If someone met you for the first time, what would you like them to know about you?

If someone were to meet me for the first time, I’d want them to know this. I might appear skittish, and I might be so uncomfortable that I have to flee the scene. It’s not you. It’s me.  Or, I might look absolutely normal, but underneath that calm exterior, my mind is going a mile a minute, and I’m looking for the exits.  

I think it’s hard to be friends with someone like me. I often cancel plans when I feel I’m not quite up to leaving the house. When I do manage to go out, I’m often exhausted afterwards and need a few days to recharge. It’s not that I don’t want to spend more time with that friend. I simply need alone time in my safe space to pull myself back together. It’s not at all personal. I envy the person who has lots of friends and loves to be around people. I wish I could be that person, but I’m not. I’m not wired that way.  

Are there any resources you would like to share?

I’ve spent a lot of years hating myself for who I am, or more accurately, who I am not.  I’ve felt for a long time that I’m inadequate, damaged, a failure.  With the help of my therapist, I’m starting to take a good look at who I am and what I’m capable of doing.  I can create.  I can see things that other people miss.  I can feel overwhelming joy.

To someone like me, I would say this.  I know it’s hard.  This world wasn’t built for us.  It’s easy to feel overlooked, to feel like we’re drowning.  Don’t worry so much about what you perceive as shortcomings and focus on the things that bring you happiness.  Maybe your world is small, like mine is, but you can make it big and bright and bold. 

I’ve been working with a holistic nutritionist, and she’s introduced me to some things to calm my nervous system. I’ve started tapping, which helps rewire thought processes, and I meditate. I’m not very good at it yet, but even a few minutes of stopping the flow of thoughts in my brain is helpful.  

I want to spend more time in calmness rather than chaos.  It’s where I can thrive and be myself, my true self, not the person dragged around by the tail in this mess of a world. I am not my psychiatric labels. I struggle every day, but I am a person of worth and value.