This is meA Story by AllyseA look inside the life of someone dealing with mental illnessThis writing was made possible by the entire discography of
The National. They and a host of other bands
and artists has been the soundtrack of my life for so long. And I know for a fact that music has saved my
life more than a time or two… I’m sorry if these writings read more like ramblings and run
on sentences. I want to give you all a
snapshot of my brain. Just a little
backstage pass, if you will, of what I call the scariest, craziest show on
earth! Me! First let’s start with the good. My name is Allyse Michelle Hauser. I am a mom to a rather awesome and handsome
fourteen year old son. Really, he’s
great despite being a damn teenager. I’m
also a daughter, a sister, a niece, an aunt and a cousin. I am surrounded by a lot of family, and they
love me very much. Most tell me so all
the time. I tell my son that I love him
every day. It’s important, and you never
know what could happen in life. I also have some really great friends in my life. I fell into being a part of this amazing
family that considers me to be one of their own. I don’t know how it happened exactly, and I’m
not sure if I can ever express to them how grateful I am for it. Some friends, but not many, I’ve known since
high school. Some I met in the Army or
at my current job. And some I just met
by chance. Maybe through a friend of a
friend. Either way, I love them all, and
can’t imagine my life without a lot them it at this point in my life. I’m grateful for each and every one of them. I was lucky enough to have a successful career in the
Army. Ten years of experience and
training I never would’ve gotten from anywhere else. I have that forever. Would not trade it for anything! The job I have now I love. Don’t make that face, I do. I work in the internet sales department of a
very cool dealership. It’s hard sometimes because I think I make it hard, but I
like helping people and I’ve always been a car girl. I’m not sure what the future holds for me
there, but maybe I’ll get to spread my wings some. You never know. I seems like the people that work in my store
genuinely care about me. It’s a nice to
have that at your job. You see that? All good
stuff! If that were the end of my story
I would consider myself one of the luckiest ladies ever! And I probably would not be writing
this. But here I am, still
writing. There are always two sides to
every coin. Take each and every one of
those good things and people in my life.
Take all the love, laughter, good and crazy times. And let’s flip the coin to the other
side. The other side was so bright and
hot it was like fire. But when I reach
out my hand to touch it, I don’t feel that heat. It’s kind of like being in the center of a
mosh pit, and all of the good bounces right off of you. Or it just misses you completely. I’m a stone sitting in a puddle trying in
vain to absorb the water in which I sit.
Get it? Alright enough with the
analogies. Here’s the thing. My doctors call it a duel diagnosis. Or maybe even a trifecta, depending which one I’m talking to. Bipolar disorder, depression and borderline personality disorder. The first two usually get paired up. Sounds like a party, right? I’ll spare you the definitions of each, as I know you’re all intelligent enough to look them up if you really wanted to. The shortened term I use is just crazy. Not good, I know. My doctor hates it when I say that. Those three diagnoses are my green, red and black kryptonite. Go ahead and brush up on your Superman DC comics. If not, just know that they really messed Superman up. For real. Above anything else though, this has been the longest, most difficult journey of my life. Yes, more than Hodgkin’s disease, but obviously that sucked bigtime too. The mental stuff is the most painful and most embarrassing. I spend a lot of my days feeling like a fool or an over-dramatic idiot. And I look back on the last fifteen years plus of my life and seriously wonder how I’m still alive. Or not in a hospital or even jail. Every morning I look in the mirror and have to please with myself, “It’s one stupid day, Allyse. Don’t screw it up.” That doesn’t always work out. I often wonder too, if mental illness is anything like being
possessed. I am not a religious person
at all. Maybe spiritual in a sense, but I
don’t know. I do know that on the daily,
I can be brought to my damn knees in fear and angst. Or paralyzed with thoughts
of abandonment by family or friends. I
tell myself that I deserve it. I’m
caught between hating being alone, and wanting someone to disparately stay by
my side.
I think about all of the reckless behavior I engage or have
engaged in. It can be anything from
driving too fast when I’m upset, sex, spending a ton of money or playing Russian
roulette with my various prescription medications. Don’t stop reading and call 911. If I wanted to do it that it’d be done. I’m pretty apathetic about it all. But here’s what all of this gets me. Or doesn’t get me. One day I can feel like I have everything
that I want, and the next I feel like have and am nothing. I can be the life of the party when it
counts. I can bring my A game, but sooner
or later I begin to realize that I’m not the girl. My state of mind and my demeanor. Nobody has time for that bipolar s**t. The ups and downs. I don’t even want to be around myself, but
there’s no escape. And I’ll be the first
to admit to the “woe is me feelings” that come on. When there is this voice or voices in your head telling you
that you shouldn’t bother with this thing called life its hard not to have
those feelings. Usually the voice is my
own. But it can also be my parents or a
friend’s, or even an employers.
Sometimes the voice is quiet and calculating, and sometimes they
shout. They may be in my head, but I do
feel the weight of those voices. Like as
grim reaper type figure hanging around my neck or perched on my shoulder. It’s been there so long I’m surprised I don’t
have a hunched back. The human brain really is an amazing thing. It’s the housing of so many things that make
a person who they are. It’s a chemical
laboratory. It’s an illusionist making
you believe in things that aren’t real.
I find myself being tricked all of the time. Life is good! No it’s not. People care about me! No they don’t. You’re doing a good job! No you’re not. You deserve those friends, family, happiness
and love! No Allyse, you do not!! So which is it? I suck at leaning on people.
I feel like I’m a bother.
Everyone around me has a someone they can go to. I dive into my shell and put up my walls, hoping
that someone will be brave enough and strong enough to break them down. I’ve got my music, books and writing to keep
me a float at times. I’ve got my dog.
All good therapy. I do know that I have
to keep going somehow. I’ve got to keep
waking up in the morning. I have to keep
telling my son that I love him every day and go to work every day. I’m thankful for being able to function. When you think I’m shutting down, have a bad
attitude or seem needy, that’s me hanging on for dear life. Trying to keep from going under. I don’t want this to go on.
This essay, I mean. If you read
it until the end, I do thank you. And I
hope that I haven’t scared you away. I’m
still me underneath all the mental bullshit, after all. And I’m also a giant work in progress. Until next time… -
Allyse © 2016 Allyse |
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Added on May 29, 2016 Last Updated on May 29, 2016 AuthorAllysePittsburgh, PAAboutThere's a lot going on in my head, and sometimes I like to write those things down. You never know what may end up coming out. more..Writing
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