Continuing Education

I was supposed to see the psychologist today, but my child care plans fell through.

I was going to explore some different medication options, but that will have to wait.

I was going to discuss my old shrink's suggestion that because of my multiple disorders I should be on disability. Cowardly? Maybe. But the further I push myself the more I feel off. Worthless. As if I have nothing useful to contribute to society. That the beast of my anxiety will take over if I somehow find myself more gainfully employed.

Social anxiety. Anxiety disorder, not otherwise specified. OCD. Bipolar Disorder I.

Three different medications to manage these symptoms I have. Still not enough, somehow.

Stigma. Would I trust a mentally ill person to work with elementary aged students? With my own daughter? I would. But society as a whole probably does not. There are many who do not understand that we are just people, even if our wiring is different. And that different does not necessarily mean bad.

I wouldn't dream of harming a child. In fact, I think my own disability makes me more qualified to work with children who are also different.

Will I ever get a chance to prove it? So far, the seemingly unanimous cry is "no." Thanks, but no thanks. You are qualified, but somehow you are still not enough.

I've been trying the mask on again, you see. The mask that presents me as normal. Sane. The mask that says that I've got things together. That there's nothing wrong with me. Hiding so that society won't judge me. Hypocritical, perhaps, since I've tried these many years not to keep my illnesses a secret.

I am continuing my education. I am learning every day, and perhaps realizing what I was put on this Earth to do. It may not be conventional. And that is also not a bad thing.