Just Because You Can’t See It…
Nasha Goodridge
It hurts my heart that people can think this about something that makes such a huge difference in this world. I commend you for your efforts to bring light to these dark problems, you are such a strong force bringing so much good to this world.
Love your amazing drawing, Jenny. Sometimes when I have a migraine, I lament to my husband that I wish I had a different brain and he always tells me that if I did I may not have the creativity that I enjoy. That woman at the airport should be so lucky to have a brain like yours. You showed remarkable restraint, my dear. Ignorance like hers is hard to fathom.
Jenny, I love you. I love you for your humor, even/especially in the face of multiple demons. I love your frankness, the way you have opened the doors wide to let people in. The way you help people. The way you see the world. The way you love us. Your beautiful skeleton, and your even more beautiful spirit. I believe in you, and I have an infinite number of cyberhugs for you, any time you need one.
Thank you for all the work you do and I love this post. Mental illness is real- depression is real, anxiety is real. Depression lies, yes, but its oh so very real. This post made me love you just a little bit more (if thats even possible ? )
Thanks or your words, Jenny. I used them (many verbatim) last week when I helped a homeless, despondent young woman realize that her brain was lying to her, and that the world would not be a better place if she was no longer a part of it. And yes, the humor helped. Your bravery in sharing your insights gave me the tools I needed to share your message.
I believe my own mother may not believe in Depression. I have been on anti-depressants for about 10 years and they made such a difference in my life. One day mom asked if I thought she was depressed. It was a day when my brain screamed YES! and my mouth remembered she would not appreciate my answer.
Wow. Way to be a bitch, airport lady. Not in the cool way of being a bitch either. Anyway, I know others have said, but damn woman, I like your drawings. Clearly you have been wasting your time and talents on blogging. Make a coloring book for adults! My Faeries and Dragons coloring book is almost filled up.
As an adult, I take medications, exercise, and talk to everyone I can about the importance of mental health. The real and treatable nature of my illness can be masked by feelings of shame or doubts and accusations by others. So I talk about it at work, at home, in my blog. Everywhere I can.
I agree with the tee shirt, although I would prefer a hoodie, and maybe there could be a coffee mug. They could be blue, like the sea and the sky.
But mostly, thank you. I needed a little dose of brave today.
Thanks for posting this. Invisible illnesses like Mental Health problems are very real to the people who suffer from them and the stigma just needs to be removed. Your post points out how ignorant snd misinformed the general public is. I do love yor drawing!
My depression, which had been sulking in its closet for the past few months, pounced out and attacked me yesterday and continues to gnaw on my brain today. But this morning, I read the bit in Furiously Happy about your cat eating the tinkle bell toy and laughed until I almost peed myself. Which was fantastic proof that the depression will eventually crawl back into its closet, and I cannot thank you enough for being out there to write stuff like that.
I had a similar conversation this morning with the insurance employee who is monitoring my long term disability claim due to major depressive disorder. She actually tried to shame me into going back to work. I would have loved to kick her in her lady parts. Thank you for your always insightful and HILARIOUS posts and beautiful artwork. I think Furiously Happy is a HUGELY IMPORTANT piece of a much-needed dialogue about mental illness!!! xoxo
So when I fell in love with my current husband, he was going through a divorce. His not-quite-ex-wife threatened many things to keep us apart, and he broke things off with me while he rightly focused on his family. During the battles there, he ended up going to his lawyer and talking frankly to him about my depression and suicide attempt. My mental health was the biggest, and easiest, target.
I used to find myself hiding in bathrooms, running away from people and rooms and from the inside of cars because of my anxiety, hiding and trying to find some way to deal with the need to escape, and not knowing there was anyone else that was doing the same stuff.
I objectively recognize that my depression (diagnosed age 11, currently 48 years old) and my generalized anxiety disorder (diagnosed age 45) and my PTSD (thank you, first husband) are mostly learned traumatic experiences and dysfunctional neurochemistry.
I fucking love you. Your internetting has made the world such a better place. For good writing. For humor. For awareness. For sure as shit, for weirdness. Thanks for internetting. Your name fits you so well. All hail the queen.
Hmmmmmm I always assume that people who are that willing to be aggressive with strangers are probably off the meds that help them curb the impulses for verbal diarrhea. Also you need to make prints of that doodle!
I needed to read this because sometimes, I let depression and PTSD control me to the point of wanting to give up because I get tired of fighting. Your words mean a lot to me. Thank you for reminding me that depression lies and I am worthwhile.
Many others have said this as well, but it bears repeating. While I am sorry that you ever had to endure the presence of such a close-minded, judgmental, sour old biddy, you handled her brilliantly. As some else battling depression, I thank you.
oh my. As a former cutter and as someone who slashed her wrist and had 28 stitches in just one of the cuts, I remember my older sister telling me that if I had really wanted to die I would have done it right. I was just being a drama queen. People such sometimes.
Your level of restraint was amazing. How are you supposed to not give out free cunt-punts when people like that walk up and ask for one? So as not to be offensive, that was the British usage of the word. I have been told that makes it better.
Yes, I hope that woman never has to find out the hard way just how wrong she is. If she feels a stab of pain in her lady junk one of these days, it will be from a whole lot of us mentally kicking her in the crotch for her ignorance and insensitivity.
Jenny,
Thank you for this post. Your drawings are similar to my own, and that gives me comfort. I am having a hard time, grasping at the straws of life. My own chronic pain condition, depression/anxiety, and the loss of a pregnancy that was never there, are weighing heavily upon me. Your posts are helping me. Thank you.
I am so grateful that her opinion is one that is on its way out. Cheers to the science that has brought the reality of depression and anxiety to light. Cheers to the people who speak openly about mental health to lend it a personal voice. And cheers to your artistic talent! Would you consider illustrating your next book?
It confuses me, because I am coming to the conclusion that some of those assholes INTEND to and ENJOY making us question ourselves. And that is the worst, bc not only does it already undermine the weak trust I have in myself (due the never ending dialogue btn the vicious, negative, anxious voices and the brave, happier, rational voices), but it undermines my trust in OTHERS. I NEED others, as benchmarks of rational behaviour and kindness, in those moments when my brain turns on me.
I shared your response to the horrible airport stranger with my young daughter, who is struggling every day with either mania or depression. She cried and confessed that some of her classmates had said the same asinine things to her and she had no idea how to respond. She thought your reply was perfect and wants to say thank you for sharing your story. You have helped her so much by this and by knowing that she is not the only one facing willful ignorance and idiocy.
Today was a hard day for me so I came back to read what you have to say again. You make me feel like I am not alone and so do all the other good people on your blogs. Sometimes life is incredibly shit and I really need that help.
This blogger who has an amazing voice posted this and I am worried but have no idea what to do? How can we help her? I sent her a link to this. and posted comments to tell her depression lies. -absence.html#comment-form
So I'm new on this website, though not necessarily to asexuality. I identified as asexual two years ago (I was 15 at the time) and have felt very comfortable with this knowledge since. Fortunately, I have not faced the horror stories I have heard about coming out and being dismissed or called "broken" by friends and family. It has been a smooth acceptance.
I do know that I do want to have a boyfriend in the future. I want to have kids and a husband while still managing a successful career. My mom runs a daycare, so I know children and I know that I want them, and I can see myself raising my future children quite easily.
But my problem isn't with not having a boyfriend - it's with not being able to see myself with someone. No matter how hard I try, I simply cannot seem imagine myself actually having a boyfriend/husband and being able to kiss and hold hands and even having sex, maybe. I am not repulsed by any of the aforementioned things, and I know that I want them (maybe even sex, later.) I just can't see them happening with me.
Yep, I want these things. But, I can never imagine it. I can't imagine constantly being around somebody, them sharing a room with me. I can't imagine someone not giving me my time for comepletely random reasons, or someone who doesn't want to adopt a kid with me, or even someone who understands if after them that's too much pressure for me to have a kid around the house too. I want all this stuff, I just . . . can't picture it. I can't picture a hypothetical person who fills this role, or even anyone I've ever been interested in as filling this role. You're not alone.
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