After I was told I could start my own blog on Psych Central, I was informed I would need to come up with a theme for the blog, some post topics, and create the most daunting thing of all–a title. It’s what your eyes first catch when picking up a book or skimming an article. It sets the atmosphere for a piece of writing. For a blog, it has to be short and punchy. Maybe a pun to draw in the readers who accidentally stumble across the page and entice them to read on.
So I sat down and I thought. No clever puns came to me. Just as I was about to throw in the towel, admit creative defeat and that blogging just wasn’t for me because I couldn’t even come up with a damn title, it came to me, as if beamed down from space: Black Hole Mind. Here are some reasons why this is the absolute perfect title for this blog/descriptor for my chaotic brain:
- I’ve often joked about my mind being a black hole. For “normal” people, their minds are just regular space: everything is in order, they are able to find what they need, and it is not scary or dangerous. My mind–which has been blessed with anxiety, depression, ADHD, and OCD in the form of dermatillomania (obsessive skin picking)–is quite the opposite of regular space.
- Like a black hole, things go in (ideas, information I need to remember) and don’t make their way back out. They’re lost in my mind, swallowed by this powerful void in time.
- Much like physicists are puzzled by black holes, my family and friends are puzzled by my mind. My dad has commented on more than one occasion, “I just don’t know what’s going on in there.” My roommates have looked at me in amazement when I can answer obscure questions on Jeopardy but misplace my phone multiple times a day. Hell, even I’m baffled by it.
- Black holes distort time and space. Living with my mental conditions, I often experience distorted thoughts about myself and others. My thoughts are often uncontrolled. They are threatening. They are intense. I am slowly learning how to manage them, to take a step back and recognize them for what they are: dark, distorted energy.
They’re not the way my space is supposed to be.
Although I may not be able to get rid of the black hole completely (my racing thoughts, negative thinking, inattentiveness, picking), I can find ways to improve myself to lesson the constant pull. I’m still a serious work in progress, but years of therapy and medications have helped me from becoming completely sucked in.
For those of you who have stuck through the last few paragraphs filled with (most likely) inaccurate space analogies, I welcome you to my blog. For years, I have kept my mental health struggles to myself, sharing some of my most personal thoughts with only my therapists, (now) ex-boyfriend, and occasionally my parents and friends. For the longest time, sharing with others meant burdening them and leaving myself vulnerable. It also meant revealing a side of myself other than the sarcastic, joking person I usually show. Writing has always been a way to let out the toxic energy–one of the few healthy coping mechanisms I have.
Some days, it is all I feel that I have.
I’m going to be honest here: I never thought I’d ever start a blog. Hasn’t everything out there already been written? Every metaphor to describe depression and anxiety (the rain cloud, the monster looming over your shoulder) already expressed on some miserable teen girl’s Tumblr?
I realize now this is a foolish way to think. What if I shared something that resonated with one person in a way that nothing they ever read before did? What if my writing put into words exactly how someone with ADHD felt but could not properly articulate? Made them go, “Holy fucking shit, that’s EXACTLY how I feel!” If I am able to reach at least one person in that way, this blog will have been worth it.
For now, I am signing off. I hope you’ve enjoyed the ramblings from my black hole mind.