November 2 is only a few days away, and I already dread the week. I am fortunate that on the third, I have appointments with both my psychiatrist and counselor.
Yes, I have PTSD, depress and anxiety. If I didn't have my boys, my family, my best friend, and my ability and desire to help others, I don't know what I'd do. Having a really bad sense of humor helps, too. Well, I think I'm funny, but others may not. My sons just shake their heads, while I laugh, but sometimes I get a snicker from one of them.
Yes, I may be weird, but that's exactly who I want to be. Myself. Some parts I try to hide. People think I'm strong, and strong-willed and on some days I may be just that, and other days, I just want to scream and complain about whatever I'm feeling or not feeling.
I know I will make it through this week. I've made it through the previous 15 years, including that one day where I absolutely believed I was going to die. And, I didn't.
When I had cancer, I didn't feel I was going to die, and obviously I didn't. When I had my heart attack, my body felt like it was going to explode, but not die. And there are those days, that my head hurts so bad, I wish I could just cut it off, I still lived through it. Well, living and surviving are two different things.
I'm glad I have this as an outlet to let out how I feel. I am not ashamed for almost dying. I am not ashamed of having a mental health disorder. I do get embarrassed because of my tremors and other things caused by my brain dysfunction, but that's only when I'm in public and people stare.
I am Amy Shannon, and today, I am still alive.
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