I always hate it when people are all “so do you go to school, or are
you working, or” and I either have to
make up some lie, or
eventually get
around to “I am not working because of depression/anxiety,” and
subsequently have to deal with whatever bullshit-riddled and completely
unsolicited opinions on mental illness this stranger feels obligated to
share with me.
So my therapist was like, “You don’t have to do either.
You can just say you haven’t worked in a while because you’re recovering
from an illness.”
I tried it when the home inspector was here today, and it fucking worked.
He was like, “oh, I’m sorry, are you doing better now,” and I’m like
yeah, and don’t worry, it’s not contagious, awkward laugh, and we moved
on.
MY THERAPIST. IS A GENIUS. Because it is an
illness, so it’s not a lie to say that, and it’s also none of his
business to know specifically what it is, and I clearly don’t want to
give more details, so we should move on from this topic. MYTHERAPIST IS A GODDAMN GENIUS.
I hope it’s okay for me to reblog this because it speaks to me on a personal level as well. It’s hard for me to accept that I have a chronic illness and a mental illness and that I am, yes, disabled. Society has us so conditioned to see non working people as being the worst that we end up making ourselves even sicker because we worry that others will judge us if they knew.
And you’re right, it really is no one else’s business. That’s something I have to remind myself of as well on a regular basis.