The pathological liar and the bully

I know a lot of people in this world live with mental illness. I don’t like to say suffer. It makes it sound like we are victims, slaves to it. And we literally are living with it. It’s like that annoying person that keeps calling your number, trying to sell you their vacuum cleaner because without it your life isn’t worth living. We all know it’s a lie but it still makes us think “What if it’s true? What if I really do need it? My life possibly is a mess without it…” That’s how depression works, it lies to you. ALL THE TIME. It’s a pathological liar, that’s what it is, and it’s constantly criticising you. Anxiety is friends with depression, except that anxiety is the bully.

Anxiety makes you choke on the very air that you’re breathing. It makes you sweat and shake and just scared of randomest shit. And just when you think you can muster the courage to defeat it, depression jumps in and whispers into your ear “You’re nothing. You’re worthless. Look at yourself. Just a big pile of failure. You better just sit down and shut up cause everything you say sounds stupid anyway. You’re making a fool of yourself. You’re not capable of doing anything right. Even when you get lucky, you’re just pretending to be something you’re not.” Yep that’s the impostor syndrome that comes to chip in his part as well. He’s the skinny one of the three, that stands in the back, pretending he’s better than everyone else. He doesn’t need to bully you, he makes YOU bully yourself just with his presence. Those are all the “folks” I live with, wether I want it or not. What I believe them on the other hand, is my choice. Even if they are a good team, they don’t get to me every time. Sometimes I shut them up before they even get a chance. Sometimes other people shut them up for me. And sometimes they get to me. Yes lately I have still been caught up in grief and I probably still will be for a while. I’ve accepted that. She’s the new one to the bunch, but she doesn’t really feel like she’s on their side. She’s just there. She doesn’t speak or anything. She just has pictures and memories of moments. I don’t mind her as much anymore. But the “holy three”…well they’re something alright. Last couple of days they got to me. I started questioning my abilities (of anything). I started thinking about my dream of doing this to support myself, reading tarot for people, spiritual counseling, writing and just letting my creativity flow. And then all sorts of thoughts rushed in to the party.

“How can someone with depression and anxiety counsel others?? How can I help others since I need help myself so many times? What the hell do you think you’re even doing here? Are your readings even accurate? I shouldn’t let people know that I’m also still learning (every day). I shouldn’t have told them that I live with depression and anxiety. No one want’s a reading from THAT kind of person. No one thinks it’s valid. People need someone stable to pull them out of their muck, not someone broken like me. Am I pretending to be good at this? Do they know that sometimes I mess up? Do they know that sometimes I just can’t feel or connect with spirit? This is hopeless. I can’t do this.”

I let myself be dragged around and bullied by the trinity. And later I thought to myself….well all the people that work in this business and that I admire have their problems as well. I’m not a guru. I’m not a saint. I’m a person. I’m in this human form intended to have these human experiences and that’s for a reason. There will be plenty of time to be one with the universe when I die probably. Now I get to live this human life with all it’s experiences. And yes, BECAUSE I have depression and anxiety I CAN counsel others. That doesn’t make me uncompetent. That makes me aware of their state better than anyone else. I CAN offer spiritual counsel to someone with depression and anxiety, because I know EXACTLY what it is like. I CAN help them, because I’VE BEEN THERE. Because I’ve dragged myself out of that so many times before. I know different ways to battle it and I know different ways to avoid it untill you are strong enough to raise your sword. My ways may not work for you, but I do believe it does give me experiences and knowledge that help me, help you find your ways. And no, my readings are not always accurate. Sometimes I don’t get the cards. Usually that is when anxiety is bombarding me from all sides. But I have learned when that is, and I know that I can postpone readings when that happens so I do them in the right mind set and dedication for each person that comes to me. And I am learning, every day. It is difficult to call myself a professional. I don’t know, it sounds cocky to me, like I know everything (no judgement to others who call themselves proffesional readers, this goes just for me). And I don’t know everything. That is exactly the reason why I love tarot. It doesn’t get boring, I learn every day. And YES, I CAN DO THIS.

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