I'm "crazy."

I'm a psycho, schizoid, crazy, mental, batshit, insane (insert derogatory term for "mentally ill" here). I have a "very persistent and difficult cluster," according to my doctor...alphabet soup of PPD, OCD, PTSD, and a couple of entrees: Agoraphobia and Panic Disorder.

What does this mean?

PPD: Post Partum Depression. It affects about twenty percent of women within the first year of childbirth. At least, that's what the statistics show. In reality, far too many women feel shame, fear and worthlessness that prevent them from getting help.

OCD: Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. People have a messed up idea about OCD. They seem to think that the extreme cases showcased on Jerry Springer and early-eighties Oprah are representative of all of us. They're not. People with OCD have obsessive thoughts that compel them to some action. I have obsessive thoughts about the germs on elevator buttons and escalator handrails. This compels me to pull my shirt over my hand or finger before touching wither one. It compels me to bark, far too frequently, "Don't touch that!" when one of my boys reaches for one. I also obsess about plenty of other things; I'm sure I'll get to them in the future.

PTSD: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Commonly called "shell shock" because it was first diagnosed in soldiers who had battlefield experience. Anyone can develop PTSD. All it takes is one significantly traumatic event during which the person has legitimate fear for the life or physical well-being of themselves or a close loved one. People with PTSD have a primary triggering incident (the one that causes it in the first place) and can have multiple secondary, tertiary etc. incidents. In my case, there are a plethora of childhood traumas, any one of which could have been the primary incident. If it was not one of those, the birth of my first child absolutely qualifies. PTSD is a far-reaching, all-encompassing disorder that affects every aspect of the my person's life. I have the some of the classic symptoms of low self-esteem, mistrust of authority and heightened awareness in safe situations.

Agoraphobia: Translated, it means "fear of the marketplace." Agoraphobia's main symptoms are mortal fear of embarrassment and fear of having public panic attacks. Most people with agoraphobia avoid public places in order to avoid embarrassment and scrutiny. No, I am not afraid to go outside. Some people with agoraphobia are; however, more of us are afraid of public places. I can sit on my porch with a friend and watch the kids play for hours. If my porch becomes public in any way, for example, if my neighbour comes out, THEN I feel increased anxiety because of the potential for scrutiny. There are two kinds of agoraphobia; the symptoms are the same but the root is different. There is Post-Partum agoraphobia and Standard agoraphobia. In therapy, I have realized that I have had agoraphobia for most of my life- since adolescence, at least. I managed it well, for the most part. Two years ago, when I had my second child, it went out of control. There have been times in the past two years when I would go a month or more without ever leaving my house and backyard. Medical professionals consider agoraphobia to be amongst the most difficult disorders to treat. It's very nature makes it difficult for us to get any kind of help. Before we can get help, we have to get past it enough to go to a doctor, cope with the scrutiny and embarrassment of describing our symptoms to said doctor AND, usually, go to a pharmacy and get a prescription filled. That seems run of the mill to most people. To someone with agoraphobia, it's like running a triathlon.

Panic Disorder: This is an umbrella term that can include Social Anxiety Disorder, agoraphobia, PTSD or any other anxiety disorder that causes panic attacks. There are as many potential triggers for panic attacks as there are people who have them. There have been times in the past two years when the phone ringing would make me panic. I still almost never answer it. Other triggers for me include my son's public meltdowns, dealing with medical people other than my regular doctor and having anyone knock on the door unexpectedly.

So, if I've had all this shit (oh yes, there WILL be swearing in this blog.) for two years, why start talking about it now? Honestly? Because I want to be well. because I cannot live like this anymore. Because spending three hours crying in my bedroom is not my favourite way to kill an afternoon. Because I'm tired of the fleeting thoughts of jumping off the bridge. Because I realized a couple of days ago that I have to kick depression's stupid ass before it kicks mine.

Starting today, I am officially kicking depression's ass. Fuck you, depression. Fuck you, agoraphobia. Fuck you, PTSD. Fuck you, OCD. Fuck you, Panic attacks. Go fuck yourselves in a big ol' , nasty, sweaty orgy of mental illness and anguish. I am done with you. I will scratch and claw my way out of your grasp. I WILL win. You picked the wrong redhead, bitches.