The Fight

     I should have just been honest and filed the required paperwork with the disabilities office. There’s just too much paperwork to deal with to make the process worthwhile. I don’t want any special accommodations. It’s an incredible struggle at times, but I manage to somehow get by. I tell myself I’m lucky to be smart enough to get good grades in school in spite of my emotional difficulties.

     I’ve struggled with a severe depression and anxiety disorder since I was eight years old. I’ve been to multiple doctors, taken a myriad of medications, and have even been hospitalized when my disorder reached the point of nearly ending my life. Yet, I’m still determined to make it through on my own merit and stubbornness instead of reaching out for additional assistance.

     Still, it would be nice to be able to share my personal struggles with my instructors. I don’t want their concessions, but I would appreciate their understanding. Unfortunately, emotional disorders are still a sensitive subject to discuss. They are surrounded by a lot of toxic shame and misinformation. There are social stigmas and discrimination associated with invisible disabilities, just as there are with visible disabilities, whenever identification is unveiled.

     Dealing with an emotional disorder, and the consequent sexual addiction that has arisen as a result, is beyond taxing. Addictions are permeated with guilt and resentment and are sustained through a vicious cycle of negativity, conditioned habitual behaviors, and destructive reinforcement. Partaking in recovery while trying to dig myself out of a 30-year trench of debasement is a battle I’ve chosen to fight because it’s a battle worth fighting for.