See, The Way My Brain Works...

Okay, I have this thing where I don't have any good memories. I've done awesome things and been awesome places with awesome people. But my brain does this thing where it only recalls the negative. About six years ago, I went to a psychologist and he gave my brain thing a label and told me to go out and make good memories. And so I did. Okay, it wasn't that simple. But you would be surprised  how much acknowledgement of your "crazy" helps. It's like going from the generic depression to the expensive designer brand that most people cannot afford. Yaaassss, I have Psychopsychosis Onomatopoeia Anamatarosis, and you said you were feeling sad? (knockoff). Now you are wanting details, real names, descriptions, the title of the book that the counselor gave me that changed my life. But my brain does this thing where it doesn't retain data. Soooooo, go get you some! Start with Medicaid, Medicare, Obamacare, a job with Healthcare and see somebody bout that thing your brain is doing. If you live in a state where the Governor refuses to care, damn damn damn damn damn! For some of us, Good Times, is not just a t.v. show. I'll try to find the name of that book.

My mental health is questionable, suspect, shadifull to say the least. But mental health issues carry so many stereotypes and stigmas that even professionals that are supposed to be there to help can sometimes be dismissive. You look "normal", and you haven't donned a superhero suit and done cartwheels down I-90, and you only tried to commit suicide once? when you were a teen? how long ago was that? Ohhhhh, okay. Well, I think this will be our last visit, especially since your short term disability is short term and no, I cannot recommend more time away from the Cray Farm where you work. But I do have a script! Proceeds, to open coat lined with multicolored tablets, capsules, and lozenges. Now, before you get upset with me for disparaging medication, my brain does this thing where it makes everything a co-conspiratorial plot. Doctors are pushers, my noggin warns! Please see first sentence of second paragraph. Everyone is different - I have close friends and family that swear by their anti-depression and behavior modification meds and my dad who is more like me had to take meds when his weeble didn't just wobble but actually fell down. I'm still weeblin' and wobblin'; thanks for asking.

                                                Me singing sanity song - "Jesus Peace"

My point is that Mental Health help is like buying a house, just because your Realtor says the cracks in the walls have nothing to do with foundation issues, doesn't make it true. Get a second opinion. The fissures are real; do not wait until the attic and the cellar unite; all the kings horses and all the kings men... I am Christian, I am African American, and I even wrote a song about Jesus being the source of my sanity. So sing, sing a song, pray and be strong, while you make sure the Psychologist or Psychiatrist that the prayer warriors at your church referred you to is in network. Here's to the Happy Memories! Just don't ask me to recall the particulars. It's a book not a magic wand.

The Infamous Book