Tuesday, August 4, 2020

The Prison of the Mind

From Sons of St. Joseph:
As someone with mental illness – I often asked myself a few of those same questions: Why am I doing this to myself? I couldn’t explain why my mind worked the way it did. Even though I knew that I wasn’t thinking correctly, I couldn’t remember a time when I wasn’t this way. I had this inner dialogue taking place inside my head. I incessantly analyzed and questioned everything I did and said. I analyzed and quested everything everyone else did and said; then, I tried to analyze and predict what they were thinking. It was exhausting.
Thinking back, when I was a child, I don’t remember being particularly anxious or high-strung; in fact, I tended more towards solitary introspection. I was alone a lot. I made-up little games and fantasy scenarios whereby I was an astronaut with my treehouse serving as a spaceship. In school and in life, I was alienated and distant from other boys and men – including my father. I strangely felt safe while barricading myself into ever smaller spaces – the basement, a large cardboard box, my tiny bedroom closet. In these safe spaces, I spent countless hours floating through a fantasy world in my mind. I invented movie plotlines during which a courageous man would rescue me from my self-imposed exile. He never showed up.
Mirroring my mental imprisonment within a series of increasingly narrow thoughts, my world became smaller. I felt like a giant “Alice” trapped inside the White Rabbit’s house. Mental illness is incredibly difficult to describe. You no longer feel safe – anywhere. As a result, you hide deeper and deeper within yourself, until you are almost completely lost. Then you lose control. It feels as if you are trapped in someone else’s body. Controlled by someone else’s mind and you are buried deep inside – screaming: Please help me! Except no one can here you. Its terrifying. (Read more.)
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