Who would have thought?

I’ve heard a lot of views about 2016. How horrible it was to our world entertainment industry, losing so many beloved actors, actresses and technical crew. Everything from dabbing to the bottle flip and an obsession with a gorilla, and a shock presidential win, 2016 was an odd one.

My 2016 was very different to most, it was a rebuilding year. It was a year to find my feet again. To find trust, in myself, in friends, in love, in my career… I haven’t shared my full story of 2015 with many people, but I believe it’s time I start talking.

2015 was a low point for me. I was in a job that I actually liked doing (for the most part) but the environment was terrible.  A toxic place that went through staff like the front door was revolving. The staff were treated as sweat shop workers (paid about the same too), not valued for what they were capable of and their intelligence taken advantage of. The boss was a bully and while most knew about it they didn’t have to bear the brunt of it.

I did, I was verbally and emotionally abused on a daily basis. Everything was my fault, every small problem or issue was the world ending and I was to blame. I was told I couldn’t do my job, that I wasn’t smart enough to do my job. I was continually compared to past employees and was told on more than one occasion I was being kept on out of pity. My clothing was policed and I was made to purchase a whole new wardrobe because my boss didn’t like how I dressed. I would put up with sexist remarks such as ‘women shouldn’t do hard labour work’ (I was taking the rubbish out to the skip at the time) and ‘don’t worry, well find you a smart husband’ as though getting married to someone who was smart and earned a lot of money was my life goal. It was assumed because I took care of a lot of the small daily operations of the office (as well as my usual work load) I never did any work.

I was promised training and help I never received and then got in trouble when I did make mistakes due to the massive amounts of work I was trying to make my way through on my own. Two people had left the office and instead of hiring someone else their work was divided between me and another person in the office.

When I did ask for a pay raise to compensate for the extra work I had taken on I was belittled and reprimanded for even asking such a question (even though I had changed jobs within the company- promoted apparently-, had been promised a significant pay rise and had yet to receive the ‘full benefit’). My hard work, dedication and kind nature were being taken advantage of thinly veiled under the guise of ‘hard work will get you places’ and ‘just keep working, you will learn how to do the job’, all while seeing unbelievable double standards all around me. One staff member would walk in the front door every day and marvel that I was still there. They were expecting every day to walk in and find I had left over night because of what I put up with on a daily basis.

Don’t get me wrong I had friends and advocates in the room. 3 people in particular were absolute God sends during that time. I wouldn’t know what I would have done without them. One was the one who pushed me to get help, taking me through step by step on how. She saw one particularly bad day and made me go home due to my mental state that day (I had been yelled at over the phone for not prioritising a particular activity and was on the brink of a panic attack). These people kept me sane and fought for me wherever they could. That is the mark of true friendship right there, when given the chance to talk bad about you behind your back and they fight for you the whole way. I have said thank you them in the past but I don’t know if they realise how much they saved me during that time. So I and E, if you’re reading this- thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I would go as far to say I owe my life to both of you. J reminded me home is a place of comfort and kept me laughing. She still does.

The day I made the decision to leave was a yelling over the phone day. I had been accused of something I didn’t do, was told I couldn’t be trusted and I had broken staff policy due to this incident I hadn’t actually done. My words had been twisted to the point I knew they were mine but couldn’t work out how I could have ever said something like that. I handed in my office key, left early and drove straight to Headspace. I don’t actually remember much of the drive home (which I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing) I was in such a bad state of mind I don’t know how I got anywhere. I pulled into the car park on Nind street and promptly ran up the stairs begging for help. Once being told I would receive it, it was such a shock to my system I would actually receive the help I had been begging for for god knows how long I burst into tears. And began my journey to 2017.

I ended 2015 broken, a shell of the person I knew I could be. I knew I had to take the time to rebuild myself, to learn how to trust myself again. Take the time for me, to be selfish and remind myself I wasn’t the failure I had been made to believe I was.

2016 began with a new job, new friends and the relinquishing of some old ones because I couldn’t cope with the connections or some of the assumptions they made of me (I knew I was strong but having someone shove it down my throat that I just needed to get over it and push myself further than I needed to was too much to hear).

It took a while to believe that I was in a good place, I remember almost going into a fully-fledged anxiety attack because I was pulled aside at my new job to be spoken to (turns out they wanted to give me an extra shift) but my brain went with what it knew. I was hesitant to participate in group outings because I wasn’t sure if I could trust people, I wasn’t sure if I could trust myself. I was scared, I was fearful of life and of other people. I worked hard not because I wanted to impress people but it was what I knew and that was stable, that was known. When I did begin to impress people because I am a fast learner, I was hesitant to accept compliments because it was so different to what I had known. And when I did want to impress people it was because I didn’t want to leave and be that person I was before.

But patience prevailed and I started growing stronger as a person, I started learning how to trust again. I made new friends and deepened relationships with others. Best friends became family, I learned the importance of family and stability. I began to learn how to love myself again, how to articulate my thoughts again and stand up for myself when I didn’t like how I was being treated or spoken to. I began to realise the difference between my old toxic life and my new life. My safe life.

Work became a place where I could ask questions and make mistakes to learn from. They are a work family in every sense of the words.

My theatre family grew and extended, full of so many beautiful people I would have never thought I would have the privilege of knowing, let alone loving. There were struggles in 2016, but considering where I was in 2015 I knew I had to be patient with myself and with my circumstances.

2016 hasn’t been perfect, I have cried and stressed and made mistakes of my own. Yet I wouldn’t have it any other way. I knew I had to start rebuilding from the bottom. I had to start with a solid base and foundation of looking after myself, knowing to trust myself and my abilities, relearning to listen to me. Once I had that started then I could test the waters with other activities.

I moved out on my own, becoming fully independent for the first time in my life. I stage managed a show on my own and dealt with that side of theatre for the first time in a while. I learned to not be quiet when I want to speak out, to not be afraid to say what I feel and mean what I say. I am learning to not feel guilty when I say no, and how to put myself first for a change.

I don’t tell my story to gain sympathy or attention. I tell my story because I know I’m not the only one who goes through this. I tell my story to let others know they’re not alone. People struggle every single day and social media generally tells a very different story of what is actually happening in people’s lives. Everyone sees my theatre life. Everyone knows how much joy it brings me. But this is the reason it brings so much joy, its juxtaposed with what I deal with every day. I do what I love and I love what I do, to make sure I’m happy, to make sure I'm safe and sane.

So to everyone I interacted with in 2016, thank you for even the smallest amount of light you brought to my world. Every little bit of it helped to become the person who I am and will be in 2017. Thank you especially to the Specsavers Australia Fair team, you are all amazing in every way shape and form. Thank you to Spotlight Theatre Company for believing in me when I was having trouble believing in myself. Thank you to my family, even though the times I see you are few and far between I love the fact I am a part of your lives and get to share in everything you do. Thank you to my theatre family for making me laugh and feel loved. And last but not least thank you to Matt, my best friend and gay husband, without whom my 2016 would have been pretty boring and far less sober.

2016, was finding my feet and standing again. It was never going to be spectacular but it was what i needed. 

Bring on 2017 in all its glory, whatever happens.   

-K

xo

I'm not my mental illness. But I am.

I have a mental illness. I've had a mental illness for a very long time. I've denied it, I've hid it, I've suffered with it, I've been proud of it, I've used it. It's been pretty, it's been sad, it's been tough, it's been a saviour, it's been horrid, it's been hard, it's been around, it's taken holidays, it's been on holidays with me. It's made me feel so many things under the sun I don't have enough time to write them all.

I used to be ashamed of my anxiety and depression. In fact part of me still is. And there is one simple reason for it. As soon as people find out my enemy is actually my thought process, I'm viewed differently. I'm not broken, but I'm impaired. I may not work. I could be a risk depending on my mood. At least that's what people think.
Here is the truth.
I know I have a mental illness, I know how it affects and effects me. I know how to manage it. I know how to manage me when I can't manage my mental illness. I know myself more than most people know themselves because of my mental illness. I can read and pin point the state of my emotions extremely accurately. I am not my mental illness. I have a mental illness. Just like when someone is physically sick and they know what they can and can't do. I know what I can and can't do. Most days I'm fine- I manage my head perfectly and I fit in with 'normal' (well as normal as I'll ever get). Some days are harder and people notice that something is off. Other days are bad and those are the days I know how to handle myself cause I can't handle my head.

I am not my mental illness. But I am. My mental illness doesn't define who I am and what I'm capable of doing until it does. But trust me, unless I want you to know, you'll never know.
So next time I or someone in your life mentions they have a mental illness, know that I know myself better than you ever will and I will let you know if I can't do something (like jumping out of planes. Won't go there and you can't make me). Don't assume you're always helping. The thought counts yes, but imagine someone else continually moving tables out of the way of someone with a broken arm. Yes it's helpful, but after a while it just gets annoying. And easier to just walk around the tables.