Hiding My “Wheelchair”

It’s impossible for people who depend on the use of a wheelchair to hide the fact that they are using a wheelchair when they’re out in public. They can’t very well pretend that nobody notices the wheelchair. They can’t disguise it. Nobody looks at them and says, “Well, there’s a person who is not using a wheelchair”. It is an undeniable fact of their existence. A physical representation of whatever condition they experience that impacts their ability to walk.

I can hide my wheelchair. My metaphorical wheelchair, that is.

I have a mental illness and mine is not the kind that is always obvious.

I’m not shouting at things nobody else can see, I’m not running down city blocks in my birthday suit, I’m not conversing with myself (not loudly, anyway😉) at a table in McDonald’s, I’m not attempting to explain to people why I am, in fact, the incarnation of Buddha.

Sometimes my crazy shows through, though. Not always and certainly not in the aforementioned stereotypical presentations one thinks of when imagining the mentally ill.

There are times that I’ve posted or shared something online and then deleted it. When I do that it is usually because what I shared makes me feel vulnerable; it scares me to allow people to see me so open and naked like a beetle without a shell. Sometimes I post things and later think to myself that I shouldn’t have posted what I had. So I’ll take it down.

Other times I post things and I get so depressed and worthless feeling that I decide that what I shared isn’t good enough for anyone to see.

Sometimes my crazy shows through.

It’s difficult living with a mental illness.

It’s confusing.

I think that that’s the thing nobody ever could have prepared me for; the confusion.

Some days I’ll be okay and it’s no big deal to check the mail, go to an appointment, etc.

Other days I can’t leave my house.

Sometimes I’m chatty and fun and other times I hate everyone and want to be left alone. Forever.

Sometimes I’m chatty but I want to be left alone and I want to talk to people. Don’t ask me how that one works.

Sometimes I can’t leave my house but I can go the mailbox.

Sometimes I have panic attacks multiple times per day that cripple me and other days I take them as they come, knock back my PRN and carry on.

I don’t understand how a person can have so many contradictions within themselves.

If I ever act in a way that is out of character for me, if I ever delete posts or photos, if I ever change my profile picture to a black square (I have actually done that a few times…) just know that you are seeing a peek at my crazy and I will get it back behind the curtain shortly.

This blog was originally created to solely discuss artists and social media but I am finding more and more that I miss writing in general and to be honest I don’t have the drive nor the energy to start a third blog. I have tried and it doesn’t work for me.

“And so,” said the Cat in the Hat, “So, so, so, I’ll show you another good game that I know.”

I will make this my everything blog. Kind of like those ‘everything bagels’ or ‘garbage pizza’.

I will write about art and social media and other things that I think are important but I’m also going to write about random things on my mind.

I hope you’ll stick around. Maybe I’ll take you for a ride in my mind wheelchair.

Until next time,

Samantha