At this point, everyone knows exactly what happened at Sandy Hook Elementary in Connecticut this past week. When I heard about it, I considered writing a post here linking back to my posts from several months ago talking about sociopaths in our culture. After giving it some thought, I realized that those posts are entirely the wrong tone for what happened. I decided not to post about what happened, and I wouldn’t have, had I not found two posts that say everything that I could ever hope to say and more. These are posts by two authors whose books I have read and enjoyed, Dan Wells and Rob Wells:
I hope you take the time to read those posts, they are excellently written and they say everything perfectly. But there’s something from Dan’s post that I want to highlight for everyone:
Statistically speaking, everyone reading this post has at least one person with a mental disorder in their immediate family–it is a part of our lives that we need to embrace and study and deal with instead of sweeping under the rug.
Keeping in mind that Depression is counted among the mental disorders, it’s easy to see how easily that figure can be reached. But remember that there are many other conditions that can be counted in there as well. So here’s where I come in to this, and why both posts that I linked to affected me. One person in every family, yep, that’s me.
I’ve not been clinically diagnosed, but I would self-diagnose myself with Paranoid Personality Disorder and Panic Attacks. (Again, not professionally diagnosed, but I graduated from college with a BA in Psychology.)
About a month ago while I was at work, I was pulling an order where I had to count out 30 of a part for the pinsetters. No big deal right? Yes, until I thought I lost count the first time, and then was worried again that I had lost count and counted it incorrectly yet again, after counting the parts 4 or 5 times I finally had to tell myself that I had 30 of them, and that I needed to move on because I had other things to do.
And that should be the end of it, except now I’m walking around the rest of the day feeling like I’m going to cry because I’m still worried about the order that I had finished hours ago.
It’s not easy constantly asking myself if I locked my car door, or if I turned off my car lights, or did I remember to do this, that, or the other. Stupid things that we all think about from time to time, but how many times do you feel like you have to go back out to your car to make sure that it’s locked? And then once you’ve gone out to check, you’re still worried that it’s not locked. How many times do you wonder if you forgot to do something at work? How many times have you been laying awake at night unable to sleep because you’re worried about it until you drive back to work at 2:30 in the morning to make sure it was done?