Invalidation: A Rant

When someone is dismissive of my mental illness issues and symptoms, it’s invalidating.

It makes me feel as if I’m the one in the wrong.

I’m making all this up.

That it is just an invisible hurdle.

That only I can see.

And that’s not good enough for all of my “laziness”.

Or inability to be social.

I’ve recently had someone who tried to tell me that my hallucinations are a “gift”.

And they know this by adding the numbers in my birthday up.

Because the number that ended up being for me said that I hear things.

That it’s my “gift” of clairvoyance.

That I’m on a different “frequency”.

And that another plane of consciousness is trying to communicate with me.

This type of conversation is dismissive.

It’s telling me that my feelings are not real.

That none of this is real and we’re on a higher plane than most others.

Well, the big problem with this is that it has zero backing.

There’s literally no way that having hallucinations is a “gift”.

It’s not a different way of thinking.

It’s mental illness.

I used to be told to not tell psychiatrists of what I hear.

Because they’ll “lock you away”.

And hearing ghosts and people all the time.

For decades.

Is a “gift”.

And should only be discussed with fellow believers in ghosts.

This has no scientific backing.

No logic.

None of it.

It’s nothing.

Jibberish.

Delusional thinking that I don’t fucking need.

Ever.

So many people with mental illness struggle with these types of conversations.

That and just being shut down.

Some people just can’t even handle hearing about my symptoms.

They shut the fuck down.

They turn the conversations onto something that barely reflects what I was just saying only to bring the conversation back to them.

Their beliefs.

Their ideas.

Because thinking outside of their beliefs.

Their fixed thoughts.

Is irrational to them.

When in reality.

They are the ones being irrational.

They’re the ones that can’t see outside their thinking.

For me, invalidation is a heavy weight.

It makes me feel like I don’t have a grip on reality.

At all.

It makes me think of delusional things.

Like the government tracking me with these types of “logic”.

Trying to get into my brain again.

Trying to control my location again.

Trying to have surveillance on me again.

“Woo-woo” type subjects like I was being told about the other day are seriously dangerous for me.

I can’t talk for anyone else.

But I bet you these type of conversations would be tough on a lot of people suffering.

It’s not helpful.

It’s harmful.

Because then I was told.

After I said that I’m dealing with mental illness.

To call it whatever I need to call it.

Dismissive.

Degrading.

Unhelpful.

So, they’re saying that the mainstream way of thinking about these “gifts” is majorly flawed.

Well, that’s just not true.

There is nothing great about these beliefs.

There’s nothing ground breaking.

There’s no cure.

No solution.

Other than calling hallucinations that berate and ridicule me a fucking “gift”.

Because the hallucinations are demeaning and degrading.

Mine are never positive.

And if they are momentarily.

They then make fun of me for believing them and getting my hopes up.

They’ll laugh at me.

Hysterically.

Mimic me.

My thoughts.

If you call this a fucking gift.

There needs to be some education on psychotic disorders.

I didn’t choose this.

Hearing berating voices constantly is not something I would wish on anyone.

It’s not a “gift”.

It’s horrible.

Having delusions of my neighbors stalking me for years on end is not wonderful.

It’s fucking terrible.

I understand that people deal with things differently.

And I also understand that my views on most spiritual or religious beliefs are tainted.

But this whole thing really threw me for a loop.

And I’ve been having a hard time writing without thinking about this situation.

And people are going to think what they’re going to think.

But telling me this bullshit I’ve been hearing for decades is just part of why I was put on this earth.

That I’m on a “higher plane” than others, honestly irks the shit out of me.

Ignorance must be bliss.

– Keren