I think one of the toughest things with mental illness for me is overcoming the shame of not being a “typical” person.

Because I don’t like the word “normal” unless I’m dealing with the smell of food.

Like does this broccoli smell bad?

Meh, it smells normal.

“Typical” opens that up a bit when talking about humans.

And really is more accurate.

But I have felt so much shame regarding myself and my actions when mental illness controlled me like a puppet.

And then there’s a shame that comes with having to take antipsychotics and seeing a therapist and having a diagnosis, let alone a few diagnoses.

Shame is nothing to be taken lightly.

It can be debilitating at times.

I don’t really like going places anymore because of the shame I carry.

One big reason are the voices I deal with – I never know what’s going to be said or seen at any time with them.

Another thing is that I get really, really bad social anxiety and start sweating.

Then I can’t stop and it engulfs me and before I know it I’m dripping sweat at the TJ Maxx while looking for a fucking candle or an ice cube tray.

I’m absolutely ashamed by my body’s response to stress and anxiety.

But I can’t control it.

And that’s part of shame, feeling shameful about personal shortcomings or issues.

So, the sweating happens and doesn’t stop until I’m away from everyone.

Why am I so ashamed about it though?

Is it because that’s not a typical response to anxiety?

Is it because of all of the stares I feel from the people around me?

Are they staring at me?

They’re talking about me.

People are pointing at me.

Because I do feel like everyone can feel and see allllllllll of the sweat on my face and neck.

And then the sweat starts dripping off my hair and onto my shoulders.

And then the cycle continues and just gets worse and worse.

And it goes the same for my mental illness symptoms.

Like, I feel so much shame that I hear voices.

I’ve always been embarrassed of it and kept it a secret.

Well, it’s getting lighter now, but it’s still there.

I was absolutely, 100% out of control before the hospital last January.

For a long long time, I couldn’t control myself.

And I just want to be a typical person.

But for so many years I denied the fact that I was hearing voices in the first place.

It hurt me.

The shame was holding me back and impacting my life on a devastating level.

I denied who I was and what was happening for years.

Decades.

I couldn’t see it, because I hid it all and called it supernatural.

Even to myself.

And when I did start to open up, I shut it down because I could tell the provider I was in front of was looking at me funny and obviously didn’t want to talk about it.

And that just brings more shame when a healthcare  professional looks at me sideways for trying to open up about my symptoms.

Every time it made me feel like shit and unworthy of therapy or doctors or whomever.

It made me feel like I would never be understood.

Like saying anything more would be too much for them to handle.

And then there’s yet another person in my life thinking I’m too much, or what I’m feeling is too much.

And I can’t take it so I hide it, shamefully.

Shame is deeply related to stigma as well.

Society says that typical people don’t hear voices.

They don’t have problems with severe depression and anxiety.

And that’s not entirely accurate.

Everyone has their own struggle and I don’t think shame does anyone any good at all ever.

– Keren