there

i shared it all. it started of as an innocent question about an appointment that i had. then it went on.

psychologist. depression. nursing school. taking a year off school. psychiatrist. treatment. perfectionistic. weekly/fortnightly follow-ups. RA. flares.

that was a lot, actually. and i could never fathom telling a superior at work about these. but when we talked, we were more like friends. yesterday, i even shared briefly with another colleague (a pharmacist) that i used to suffer from depression as well.

it helps to talk about it objectively, like it doesn’t bother me (even though it fucking does).

were they bothered by what i told them? i don’t think so. just more curious, just like everyone else. 

i think actions show a lot more than words. i would believe that my performance in the ward speaks volumes of what i am. more than my disturbing past. more than what i used to be. and more than what i’m not- stigmas and stereotypes.

i still cannot tell if it was a right move though, because it’s still too early.

it’s a good start nevertheless, and could perhaps spell the start of something more.

having a mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of.

(i am of course still struggling to let this be acceptable to me and for me, but i recognise and acknowledge that this will take time.)

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