mental illness issues
The issue with bipolar disorder isn’t that we have feelings, it’s that our feelings are too big. Emotions are normal, even big emotions at certain times are normal but people with bipolar have feelings that are too big far too much of the time.
I am not a parent, let alone a parent of someone with mental illness, nevertheless, but it is still clear to me that parents of the mentally ill get blamed for their child’s mental illness. I honestly don’t know if my mother has ever experienced this, but I know of other parents who have. One woman I know comes to mind. Her daughter has schizophrenia and requires a lot of help to successfully maintain her wellness and live on her own. Her mother provides everything she can to make this happen – and it’s a lot. And yet, this mother has been blamed for her daughter’s schizophrenia. But parents aren’t to blame for their child’s mental illness.
I can’t control my brain. I can’t control my emotions. I can’t control my tears. I can’t control my irritation. I can’t control my need for excess sleep. I feel like I can’t control anything. And not being able to control my brain or my emotions makes me feel entirely inadequate as a human being.
One of the annoying things about having a serious mental illness like bipolar disorder is that doctors blame all physical pain on bipolar disorder. It feels like if you have a hangnail it must be because of bipolar. It feels like the pain from a broken leg must be from bipolar disorder. Doctors just seem to leap to the conclusion that bipolar is always to blame even when other physical ailments are or may be present.
I want to be happy. It’s been a long time since I, genuinely, have been. Yes, the bipolar medications do their job and keep me alive; and yes, I’m less depressed than when the bipolar medications weren’t working, but, still, I’m not happy. And while some people seem to think differently, I really, really want to be happy. It’s not my fault I can’t be happy.
The Bipolar Burble welcomes guest post writer Kerry Martin who has started multiple non-profits (links at the bottom), lives with bipolar disorder and is a three-time suicide attempt survivor. She bravely shares her story.
I’m gay. I’m bipolar. And, I’m a three-time suicide survivor. Today, I’m out. I’m proud. And, I’m still alive and kicking. But I used to be closeted, ashamed and suicidal. While I wasn’t diagnosed as bipolar until my early 40s, I have always struggled with depression and have tried to take my life not once, not twice but three times.
According to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, the first step to suicide prevention is removing the stigma by starting the conversation.
Today Bipolar Burble welcomes Adele, a 36-year-old newly diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Read her story of a new bipolar diagnosis and how she’s handling her first few bipolar months.
When I was diagnosed as bipolar this past November, it was both the best and the worst news I have ever received. I knew that my life was probably going to get better, but that it would definitely never be the same.
People with mental illness do, sometimes, need a push to make things happen, but when do you push a person with a mental illness forward? Obviously, you should never push a person until he or she breaks – and there is a risk of this with those with mental illness because many of us can’t take the same pressures (stress can cause bipolar hypomania, among other things) that other people can. Nevertheless, a supportive push forward can be helpful but do know when to push a person with mental illness.
One of the things my writing does is validate bipolar experiences. This is helpful for people for a very simple reason. When you know that even just one other person is facing the same challenges as you because of bipolar disorder, you feel validated, this has many benefits and it is something we all need. Additionally, harm definitely comes from not validating bipolar experiences – and many of our loved ones do this, perhaps without even knowing it. It’s important to realize that validation of bipolar experiences actually helps a person’s mental health.
I’ve noticed something about when I’m suicidal: I’m more accident-prone when I’m suicidal. I know that the word “accident” suggests that nothing would be causing it as it is unintentional – this is true, sort of – but I still find that suicidality affects the presence of accidents.
I often wear myself out with bipolar disorder. The odd thing about it, is that I don’t know when I’m doing it. I run and run and run and run and do and do and do and do until I’m completely worn out and then the next day, inevitably, I just collapse into a pile of fatigue. But while I’m running and doing I don’t know that I’m wearing myself out. Everything feels fine, until it doesn’t. It’s seemingly impossible to know when I’m wearing myself out with bipolar disorder.
I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder about 18 years ago and I can honestly say, that being diagnosed with bipolar disorder feels like a death. It may not feel like it immediately, but, over time, mourning a death is what being diagnosed with bipolar disorder feels like.