I am man, hear me….. I say very little. I have spent the majority of my life living in real fear, a fear of communicating the constant, unrelenting pain that ravaged my soul until I was left with nothing but the darkness of depression.Society forbids me from talking about my pain. I am somehow seen as less of a man if I even whisper for someone’s help and for years, I complied with my captures and in doing so, generalized anxiety disorder infected my brain.
I was held in solitary confinement by cultural expectations and whist at the same time being held hostage by the tournament of mental illness. Learn more about men and mental illness stigma. Sure I could run around blaming everyone in sight for effectively cultivating my existing sadness and anger but what purpose would it serve? Regardless of the source of my torment, it is I who must take back the power, only I can do that.
But how? I must find the courage to fight back, defy those who I have allowed to throw me in the hole of perpetual misery. It’s a do or die affair. My weapon of choice? To find somebody, anyone who will listen and contribute to my overall well being. I will shatter these these restraints by seeking out the help I need. I shall do so by always being my primary advocate, for I am my own voice and I shall speak freely with zero fear of the repercussions.
For now the only way society can enslave me is if I care about what their expectations are. I am my own man, a man with anxiety, depression and PTSD.
My illnesses do not own me, do not define who I am. I freely acknowledge them and I’ll be damned if I will allow their symptoms dictate my outcome. I get to choose where I get to put my energy and I choose to live.
You may also enjoy: Signs Of Strength When You’re not Mentally Well.
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This was a guest post by Arenburg Jonathan.
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