Mental Illness and Me

Like everyone else in this world I have problems, and my problems are all in my mind. The sad part about this is no one likes to believe I am having these problems, and try to dismiss them as if they aren't real. I don't consider myself difficult to deal with, but I do consider myself important. The problem is, lately I have felt unimportant.

I reached out to the "professionals", and they have no clue what to do with me, and my family has enough to deal with. I've been passed around on the phone by people that were supposed to help, and I've tapped out my resources at home. Meaning, I stay mixed up in my own head so much that my family needs a break. 

I take medication to keep the messy cleaned up, and without it, I'm not so well. I was out of it for two days, just long enough for the nightmares to return, and the bad thoughts. Now, I can normally fight off most bad thoughts, but when you are unbalanced, those thoughts start to make sence, and I get lost. It doesn't take many missed doses before its too hard to handle, and that is when i reach out. 

What happens if you reach out and you are constantly pushed off on someone else. How many times are you to be put on hold, by professional help, before you say, "screw it I'm done." 

All my doctors forget my name, don't remember my back story, and when I went to get seen, they had the wrong names on the paper. He then sets me up with a Therapist, who it turns out was just an intern, and holly crap! Are you freaking serious? 

I'm so tired of no one listening to me, I'm about to drive myself crazy. Everyone around me have better things to do. No one has time for me. I understand people have lives, and I understand that my problems come at inopportune times, but I can't control that. I've tried so much to be accommodating, but no one talks to you when you are, they push you off till you die. That is the one thing I don't want to be, dead. 

You know, I found out a few weeks ago, my friend killed himself. Why? Who knows. But I don't want to end up like him. So depressed and scared of her own mind that I lose grip with reality and off myself. So, I reach out, but right now I feel like I am reaching, and reaching, and I'm going to be reaching when I fall over that cliff. Reaching for the no one waiting to grab my hand and keep me from falling over. How long do you take no one talking to you, before you take that plunge. 

Luckily, I haven't reached that point, but will anyone see how far I've fallen in time? Mental Illness is a hard thing to live with. Especially on the family.