You are not alone. I, too, am not okay.

Yesterday I wrote this response to Tempest Rose’s post It’s Okay for Me to Not be Okay on STIGMAMA.COM:

I, too, am not okay, and I’m okay with it. Often other people do not understand what they cannot see. For many years I wondered, do other people think like this? Do other people have to tell themselves not to drive off that cliff, not to push that stranger in front of the BART train, not to hang up the telephone in mid-conversation – for no reason whatsoever? I used to think, if so, then why aren’t more people driving off cliffs, pushing people in front of subway trains, and rudely hanging up the phone mid-sentence. They are not doing these things, yet I have to tell myself over and over not to do it. For years I struggled with manic symptoms, intrusive thoughts and disturbing impulses, without knowing what they were. Without realizing that I had a treatable mental illness. I knew I was depressed. I mean wanting to kill yourself was clearly a symptom of depression. That I got. The other stuff, not so much.