It’s about time it’s over.
Hospitalization, witnessing the incomprehensible, losing the people you loved most in your life. Working where you’re a body, and your insights, and collaboration are not appreciated (um, those long sleeve shirts were my idea. Just saying). I’d rather be here.
I’d rather be in love, and broke, and loyal to my cause.
I have a mental illness, and I saw first hand how stigmatized it is in the workplace. I know what it’s like to be told “this conversation never happened” and “I never heard what you said” and “you were never even in this room”. I know what it’s like to be judged for my emotional instability. I know what it’s like to be disrespected in so many forms.
I am a white, middle class young professional. I have dealt with prejudice, but not on the level of some. If I have to deal with workplace discrimination, because of PTSD from things I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to share on my blog, how bad must it be for others?
This isn’t a wake up call. I’ve always known it was bad. But now I’ve seen it. Now I’ve felt it. Now they’ve come for me.
I’m upset that this has happened, and I’m upset that it happens on a regular basis.
At the same time, I am glad. I am glad my instincts have been legitimized.
I’m letting go of this tangled mess, and I am telling you,
I have a fucking mental illness.
I am a fucking introvert.
And I am just as fucking capable as anyone else at doing a damn good job at anything I set my mind to.
That is all.
I feel like I’m supposed to apologize for my frequent “fucks” in this post. So, sorry.