Apologies for the terrible image quality - I’m lacking scanner access at the minute so I had to take these photos on my phone
I was reading hyperbole and a half’s blog entry explaining their experience of depression and decided to make another sketchy comic based on my experiences with anxiety, which is another mental illness I think people tend to misunderstand quite frequently
Hopefully this will be of use to some people - whether they suffer from anxiety themselves or if they just want to know more about it
My entire LIFE in a nutshell
At first people are very supportive.
You keep your MENTAL ILLNESS a secret. You don’t talk about it, because you’ve learned that society views you as nothing more than an ATTENTION-SEEKING STAIN. You’ve learned that people see you as pathetic, lazy, and CRAZY…well, you are, aren’t you? You’ve learned that people treat you DIFFERENTLY once they find out you have to take MEDICATION for all your mental sicknesses—all of them. They call you “worthless” and “freak”. They don’t treat you as an equal. You are less than the normal people of the world.
So you wear long sleeves and pants every season of the year. You tell people you like getting PIERCINGS and TATTOOS because you think they are cool, rather than the truth that the sting of the needles help you not CUT for just a little bit. You tell people that you work from home, instead of informing them that you’re unable have a job, because your anxiety, paranoia, anger, depression, OCD, and insomnia leaves you unfit to function in a normal life style. When you try to PRETEND to be like a normal person, you always end up SUICIDAL and in a mental institution.
You fall in love easily, and you are actually a hopeless romantic. You want nothing more than to have a partner for life, and people think it’s quite WEIRD that you enjoy watching romcoms so much, but yet you are single, especially because your looks on the outside are pretty ADORABLE. You know you’re not in a relationship because no one would ever be able to handle having one with someone like you, or they would leave you the moment they saw one of your cuts. The only reason why you are physically appealing is due to the fact that you also have an eating DISORDER along with everything else that is WRONG with your head. So you push them away, getting angry at both them and yourself.
Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are a WORTHLESS FREAK who is a stain on society,
You have blood in the night, and you will die younger than everyone else you know.
I was browsing the Humanstuck tag…I see Karkat mostly portrayed as either having red hair or being albino in order to keep the idea that he is different from everyone else.
In my head, he looks pretty standard (save for the piercing and tats) on the outside, because in canon, he appears like any of the other trolls physically. He is a mutant (a freak) because of his blood color, as deemed by their society. So it is something hidden, that someone wouldn’t know unless told (or if he was bleeding).
Humanstuck…People with mental disorders can appear pretty normal…you know that quote you always see, “She’s smiling on the outside, but she’s crying on the inside”. If you, or anyone you know, struggles with mental illness[es], then you probably, sadly, know how our society views and treats people who have these issues.
Shaming people who take medication for mental illness kills.
I didn’t go on any medication for YEARS because my dad spouted off about “happy pills” and zombification and such.
I’m hardly the only person who’s been through similar.
Indeed, I only started medication after fighting my way through many, many screaming matches with my father and marching him to the doctor so the doctor could explain how the pills work.
I am lucky that I had the strength then to fight. Dealing with a mental illness and having to cope with unsupportive, shaming awfulness? That asks for energy that many people do not have, because being mentally ill is fucking exhausting.
If you want to attack big pharma, then fucking attack big pharma. Stop pointing your guns at us.
Dealing with a mental illness andhaving to cope with unsupportive, shaming awfulness
My tale of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.
Once upon a time there was a beautiful young girl. She was the fairest of them all. Within her house in the woods, she lived with seven dwarfs that never left her side.
One day, there was a knock on the door. A man’s voice called for her. Snow White hushed her dwarfs to the basement, and she stepped outside her house. The man was the most attractive person she had ever laid her bright blue eyes on. You could almost say he was an angel. What was even more enticing though, was the apple he held in his hand.
“I brought you a gift, my dear.” He said to her in an enduring voice.
She took the apple into her grasp and stared at it. It felt so smooth and perfect. It really was a wonderful-looking piece of fruit. The apple sparkled in the warm sunlight, and it was the prettiest red ever! It seemed like it was made just for her.
“Please, enjoy it.”
“Oh, I will, sir!” She bit into the apple, her soft lips cupping it so gently. It was the best thing she had ever tasted—how sweet and supple the apple was. It awoke all her senses. She was so amazed at how one little, simple, thing in the world could make her feel so alive and amazing. For a moment, she even forgot all about her dwarfs.
The man continued to smile as he watched her consume his gift. Snow White was in heaven. The apple filled her up, giving her a fulfillment that she never had once in her life before. She loved that apple. She could honestly say that she loved that single apple more than anything.
Once she was finished, she leaned in close to the man. As she was about to thank him, her breath caught within her throat. She stumbled back, losing her balance. Her head spun. She reached out her hand, hoping that the man would help her, but he just laughed…laughed like a demon.
A piercing pain shot through her entire figure: A pain so deep, that she thought it was impossible for such agony to even exist in the world. “You…..planned this….all along…” She mumbled her last words as the sight of the man became a blur and then blackness.
That candy-coated apple had been poisoned. To think that it was so appetizing and heavenly, when in reality it was really nothing but coated in a false candy.
He told her to enjoy it, just so he could enjoy seeing her fall. It was a cruel joke, indeed.
His apple had killed her.
Later that night, the dwarfs came up from the basement when they didn’t hear any footsteps above. One of them opened the door to see Snow White’s lifeless body. He alerted his companions, and they knew what they had to do in order to save her.
They all carried her to an alter deeper into the woods. They decorated the stand to be just as pretty as Snow White. They laid her down, placing the most precious flowers of the forest around her body.
Word had somehow gotten out to the mainland that there was a girl in the woods. She was missing her soul, but if a prince came and gave her a kiss of life, then they could save her.
Several princes showed up upon this news. They scorned at one another as they saw how gorgeous Snow White was. They all wanted her. They fought one another. After their brawl, they decided that the man with the least amount of bruises could have her, for she was very delicate, and would need a strong person to take care of her.
So, he walked to the alter and leaned over her. He placed his lips close to hers, but paused just before giving her the kiss. He saw the seven dwarfs standing around her as well. Each of them had their names written on their clothing. He read them, and they said:
The prince immediately pulled back and left the woods.
The other men were confused by this. Why didn’t he want her? They wondered.
The next least-beaten prince went to her alter. He, too, saw the dwarfs. “She deserves to be dead.” He said.
The rest of the princes walked over once they heard those words. They understood then as they saw Snow White’s dwarfs. “It would be such a shame to waste a pretty face though.” One of them sighed.
“Just don’t kiss her. Just don’t let her have a life.” Another instructed.
They agreed then, and for the next few hours, days, weeks, months, and years, all the princes and men in the world came to Snow White’s alter. They used her, ruined her flowers, violated her, and raped her, but none of them kissed her.
Do you want to know what insanity feels like?
From my fucking pathetic novel that I liked and wanted to share….I swear this story is turning into a combination of
my autobiography Catcher in the Rye and 28 Days Later.
So irritated, that here comes another one of Patrica’s bitching posts!
So it’s been pretty obvious that this one guy likes me, and as I mentioned yesterday he admitted to it, and asked me to date. I told him that I didn’t know if it would be a good idea right now with the way *I* am with all my baggage from still recently being hurt. I’m having so many conflicts about trusting people and insecurity.
But you know what? I’m tempted to seriously just tell him okay! Just to get my MOTHER off my fucking ass about how I should get into a relationships with this man who is EXACTLY one of the “typical” types of men that I spoke of in my past. He’s 35, chubby-big, balding…AND HE HAS A FUCKING 6 YEAR OLD SON!!
I am getting SO upset with her trying to push him on me, and what’s worse are the reasons why she wants me to date him! First of all, doesn’t she know me at all (of course not). He’s completely the OPPOSITE Of the type of look I find attractive in guys, AND even worse, he has a fucking kid!
She only wants me to date him because he’s the brother of one of her co-workers, and he’s “So lonely, just like you—and he’s attractive!” No, fuck you.
I put my foot down pretty hard with her, several times, telling her I don’t even want to be FRIENDS with people who have kids, and to STOP trying to get me to date this guy.
Then to just fucking slap me even more, she throws this line at me. “Well Tammy and I would think you two would be perfect for each other, because he’s schizophrenic. He has mental illness just like you!”
Thank you for being like everyone else who views me as ill, just because the fucking charts say that if you have mental challenges, even if it’s just depression and anxiety, you are sick.
I don’t know how many times I said no to her. Then as if to “buy” me, he co-worker gets me a bunch of expensive free “girly” stuff like these high-class lotions and body creams, that my mom was SURE to mention that it costs over $100. WTF. Seriously! I didn’t even want them or ask for them. She just *did* it without me even knowing. They are still sitting in that damn paper bag my mom dropped them off in.
Well you know what? If you’re so set on hooking me up with someone because they are mentally ill, then maybe I should just date the guy that is at least my style (slender, smooth-non-hairy-beast), because you know what? He’s bi-polar! So he’s “sick” too! Now won’t we just be the perfect couple then?
OH WOW and just to make me feel ever BETTER today, my dad *just* sent me a text saying “We are going over to Ed Kirby’s today. You can come with us if you want.”
I want to go with you to the house of the man who sexually molested me that YOU know about.
Fuck it. I’m going to go have that coffee date.
I can’t stop throwing up…my nose is bleeding…I’ve never felt this kind of pain before…it hurts me so much mentally, that I’m hurting even more physically…
And what’s even worse is that this has all happened a week before my trip…I’ve been in a horrible state…I don’t…want to go to Japan like this(I don’t want to live like this)…a trip I have been saving little by little for over 5 years for…
He told me not to be afraid of him…he told me to always speak my mind…he told me to never back down…because I was doing that out of the fear that he would leave me if I said something he didn’t agree with or like…and I did…and I said those things in a bad manner…
It was on the same day where he wrote on his tumblr how he didn’t want to be at work and wanted to be cuddling me…and sending me all these texts about how he loves me, misses me, wants to be with me…and hearts and emotes and *actions* and everything…
Then I asked him about something…I said something that wasn’t right to which we didn’t agree…and within minutes time, I got spoken to in a tone that I never heard from him before in all our 3 years (would be 4 come Nov.)…
And then besides the issue with the family that I got wrongly upset about, he wanted to do something that night (and in the future) that I didn’t agree with…that he wouldn’t talk to me about first…
And then he never came home…wouldn’t tell me where he was or anything..he just told me that he needed to clear his head and to let him be…he’s always been so loving in all his texts and words to me…never like this…
..I don’t know what happened to make him be so resistant to the point where he told me later this week that he had to think about our relationship and have a break…all I want is for him to talk to me…to give me a bit of comfort and words, to help me stop worrying before I leave…then he will be free of me for 2 weeks…
…Is that so much to ask? I know I’m probably pissing him off with posting this publicly, but I SERIOUSLY don’t know what is going on…and I am looking for HELP. I’m looking for some sort of closure that he is not offering me, so that’s why I’m posting this, is because I’m wondering if anyone out there can explain this to me…help me understand the human mind and provide me with any answers to ease me a little so that I don’t end up dying…I know that may sound really extreme, but I cannot even keep even water down…I’m having nose bleeds…I’m shaking non stop…because I love him more than anything…and he told me he loved me more than anything and that he would’t leave me again…and we both said the moment we saw one another that we loved each other and wanted to spend the rest of our lives with one another…
I understand giving him space from me…but all I am asking if he would /talk/ to me about the things we have disagreements on first (or whatever I did to make him run away so hard like this) so that he can clear his head properly during our break…and for the few minutes that I had while I was talking to him at his work (since that’s the ONLY way I ended up seeing him is if I literally went in), I told him over and over I would listen to him and work/compromise with him…but he simply didn’t wan’t to see me or talk to me…
…and that’s the part I don’t understand…because I know I overstepped my boundaries with my insecurities…but I don’t understand how our disagreement on a couple things deserves this ignoring and lack of love to this extreme at me…and that’s what I am confused about and needing answers on. It’s consuming me…
And the reason why I also decided to write about this now, is because this all got so much more painful today and brought up so many more questions when I went outside and found a pair of special shorts he was making for me in a bag…they looked like that had been half done…ready to be sewed…like he was working on them at his parent’s house the night of our disagreement, but then stopped…so I’m wondering if something happened between going to his parents house and (???) that made him decide not to come home? I have no idea and it’s killing me since he won’t talk to me…
I just wish he would talk to me for a little bit and look at me one more time before I leave for Japan…that’s all I’m asking…please.
At least that’s what it’s like for me.
I hate seeing the word “emo” used on DeviantArt. I’ve seen it in group titles, art titles, literature, people’s names, in OC descriptions, everywhere. Especially when people have descriptions of their OC’s like “My OC cuts them self everyday (:”. It really hurts to know that the community that…
I don’t self-harm/never have, but I feel this post is important enough to reblog. There’s nothing wrong with having depressed characters, but there’s something very wrong if you’re treating it like a good thing.
This. I’m apathetic to self-harm or suicide jokes, as I’m apathetic to any topic joke as long as it’s not targeting a person in particular, but boy…does it really piss me off when people…as the op said, treat this stuff as a game or a good thing. I know I ranted about this a lot, the way people flaunt their [self-diagnosed] mental illness and act like it’s cool, or how it would be “awesome to be in a mental ward”, so I’ll save you from going off about that again.
Then there are the people who self/fake-harm and take pictures of it and post it. Some say it’s empowering, but as I said…I don’t fucking get it, and it makes me mad that thy take pride in that stuff. I photoshop my scars out of pictures of me before I post them! Just this past year I’ve allowed myself to write about my issues, because of the way I’ve noticed people goin on about how “cool” it is to have these illnesses. Before I would go as far as to say “I’m normal”.
Do you actually know what it’s like to be medically diagnosed? Do you actually know what it’s like to have these issues? It’s a curse. People treat you like a plague, and you see a plague in the world that “no one else can”.
Why would you EVER want to do that? Being in the mental ward was one of the worst things that ever happened to me. I lost everyone, I cried non stop, my self harming got progressively worse, I failed every class I was in because I couldn’t go to school for half the year. The nurses, and doctors treated me like shit. I was sent to the isolation room, for standing up against one of their rules. The nurses were all told that I was “dangerous” and a problem, because I stood up for all the other kids there when the nurses were being ass holes. They put me on so much medication, and I was in there for my fucking birthday. My “sweet sixteen”, they told me that they didn’t celebrate birthdays there, and I wasn’t allowed to go see my family or anything. My depression, and anxiety, and my ED got so bad, it wasn’t like anything I have ever experienced. For months after I was discharged I had nightmares of the nurses every single night. Everywhere I went the people I saw somehow morphed into the nurses from my perspective. I was so anxious, and upset, I couldn’t go back to school for the rest of the year. I’m sorry for the extremely personal rant. This just pisses me off. Even when I was scared for my life, I didn’t go back in there. Find some other way to get help. Talk to someone, a friend, a professional, a loved one. When you go to a mental ward, it’s not to get help. All they do is diagnose your problem, and then you get sucked into the depression, and anxiety of living in a place with several other disturbed people. I would only go back if I was sure I wasn’t stable enough to be left alone. And that actually happened. I was scared to be left on my own because of what I would do to my self… And they didn’t let me in because I wanted to be there.
So long story short… Even if you DO want to go to a mental ward, they won’t let you in. They only let me in when I didn’t want to be there. I spat in their faces, swore, and kicked. And they sent me away. I cried, and screamed, because I didn’t feel safe, and they sent me home.
The only time I ever got proper help, was when I was out of the hospital and seeing a professional. So do that instead.
RANT OVER, I’M SORRY.
This! Do NOT be sorry for sharing your story change-ling. I WISH more people would be open about their experiences in mental wards, because it is NOT some glorified experience like how the media portrays it. It is NOT some place where you go to be a bad ass and rebel against the doctors saying, “you’re crazy”…and you prove them wrong by showing that your “crazy” is actually normal…all the while, having fun on some drugs.
NO, that’s not it at all….and it pisses me THE FUCK off every time I see one of these posts on websites where some person is writing about how cool it would be to go to a mental institution, and how awesome it would be.
Just as the above poster wrote, my depression and anxiety got worse thanks to the mental institution where I was. It did NOT cure my depression, PSTD, or self-harm and suicidal issues. The only thing it did was give me time to think about how to better hide it so that I.did.not.go.back.there. This was back in 2007, and now 5 years later I STILL struggle with the same issues that I was put in there for.
You have NO privacy whatsoever. The
bouncers orderlies watch you shower and go to the bathroom. They watch you dress and undress every day. You are on a strict schedule, and you know what happens if you don’t want to do karaoke? The big orderlies will yell and scream in your face like drill sargents.
You know what happens if you still don’t get up? They pick you up and carry you to the room. They then drop you down in the seat hard—not caring if they injure you in the process…which then YOU later get blamed for and they keep you there longer, and they drug you up so much.
Drugs: No. It’s not cool to be so “stoned out of your mind” that you have no idea what’s going on. It’s scary. You’re a walking zombie…and you are not able to feel your mind and body correctly. This is a problem with the other patients, because some of them have been known to molest other patients.
I had to deal with a patient giving me rape threats almost every day.
And it’s scary when you can’t remember what happened the previous day, since your mind is so messed up.
Then if you are REALLY bad (where I was), they would inject you with something…lock you in a CAGE (I am not joking)…think size of an outdoor cage for a pet fox…where you would sit in a chair, drooling over yourself as the other patients could come up and watch and laugh at you.
You have no choice of food. I ate egg noodles with gravy more days than I can count. If you’re hungry when it’s not meal time? No one fucking cares. You cannot have food/drinks outside the eating room (which they keep locked except for meals). You want a drink of water? You have to ask the nurses for it every time.
Then, as I touched a bit on before, you also have to deal with the other patients…patients that follow you around, touch you, don’t shower, and talk-non stop…even when you’re trying to sleep at night. They don’t care if you couldn’t sleep because of it, if you’re not up when the bell rings, you get yelled at, tossed around to where they want you to be, and/or put in the cage.
So please, shut the fuck up with all this “omg being in a ward would be so much fun!” Check your privileges, and get it through your heads that it’s like a fucking prison.