I judge my bipolar disorder disability. I admit it. I do. I wish I didn’t. I wish I were more Buddhist. I wish I could show more enlightenment in this way. But I judge how disabled I am by my bipolar disorder and I just don’t know how not to.
People Judge Mental Illness Disability
There’s an issue where people judge those with a disability due to a mental illness like bipolar disorder. People think that a “mere” “mental” illness can’t possibly cause severe disability. Sure, if you’re babbling to people who aren’t there while wandering the streets, maybe then, but if you “pass” as normal? No, you can’t possibly be disabled.
I understand this. It takes time for people to accept something new. And mental illnesses and bipolar disorder disability are new for many people.
Their judgement might not be fun or kind, but it’s a lot better than the judgement I make on myself.
Bipolar Disorder Disabilities
Bipolar disorder can be disabling. People experience it differently, of course, but many with bipolar disorder are disabled to the point where they can’t work. This is a real thing. Bipolar disorder is a real disability. And it can’t necessarily be fixed through therapy and/or medication. Even with the best of what medicine has to offer, some people are still severely disabled.
In my case, I do work and do many of the things that your average person does, but my bipolar disorder disability pops up its head every day in many ways that upset me.
One way is showering. I avoid showering. I hate showering. I’ve written about this before and it’s in my book because it is so frustrating to me and so many other people know exactly what I’m talking about. Even though I know I need to shower, even though I know normal people do it every day, I just can’t make myself shower most of the time. I try. But I can’t.
Explaining the inability to make yourself stand under running water is nearly impossible, but just take my word for it, it’s real.
Judging Bipolar Disorder Disability
So today I did take a shower after many days of avoiding it. And after I was done and the goop was in my hair and the cream was on my skin, I felt relieved and almost proud of myself. I did something that is very hard for me. It was a win. Today was a success.
But that’s where the judgment came in.
I suddenly found myself looking in the mirror and chastising myself for feeling positive about showering. I judged myself for being so weak that such a tiny thing even mattered. I judged myself as pathetic. I judged myself as a grubby, gross loser. I judged my own bipolar disorder disability as pitiful and unacceptable in every way. I internally flogged myself for finding showering difficult and then I flogged harder for feeling good about overcoming it.
Damned if I do and damned if I don’t. Really, I’m just damned.
I Know that Judging Bipolar Disorder Disability Is Wrong
I know there’s no reason to judge a person with a disability. I would never judge someone else with a disability. If someone with bipolar disorder told me that they couldn’t cook themselves food for weeks at a time, I would totally get it and not feel judgmental, but, rather, just want to help. But when it comes to me? Disability is weakness and weakness is unacceptable. And, as it turns out, even overcoming weakness is unacceptable because I shouldn’t have had to try so hard to overcome it in the first place.
Oh, and did I mention that I judge myself for judging myself? Yeah. I can’t really get anything right.
I know that a disability – bipolar disorder or other – is not a thing to judge. It is not a failing of any sort. I totally get this. Really, I do. But when it comes to me I’m just so hard and harsh. I just can’t take my own bipolar disorder disability. I can’t believe in it. I can’t let it be. I can’t just roll with it. I can’t just accept it.
And I know what this is. This is bipolar depression finding things to beat me up about. This isn’t the genuine Natasha believing that there is anything to judge. I am not a judgey person. This is my bipolar disorder disability beating me up for my bipolar disorder disability. It’s a snake-eating-its-own-tail thing.
Bipolar Disorder Disability – Be Gentle with Yourself
There is a sentence, “Be gentle with yourself.” I know this sentence. I tell people this. I do believe in this. I do believe we should be treated with care. I believe we should be treated with the same love we show others. We deserve to be treated gently.
It’s just really hard for me to internalize this. As it turns out, I know virtually everything and yet it doesn’t fix the judgment. I just get annoyed at my knowledge and my inability to act/feel as enlightened as I know I am.
Sigh. Struggle.
Bipolar disorder disabilities are just one, big, long struggle. I get it.
So right now I will try to be gentle with myself the way I know I need to be. I’m going to put a checkmark in the “win” column for showering and I’m not going to feel bad about it. I’m going to tell myself the truth: that we’re all different and we all have different challenges. And every challenge, every disability, every difficulty, every win is okay.
Image by Swiertz (Own work) [CC BY 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons.
You looked into my brain…
Hi Pam,
I have a habit of doing that ;) Many of us have similar brain goo.
– Natasha Tracy
Tick in the box for showering. I hate water when I feel low and will not shower and so strip wash instead, but I am in such physical pain that I often use baby wipes to attempt to clean my body. I am lucky (how inaccurate) to have hair that looks fine for weeks without washing. Sometimes I am so low I actually can smell myself – how bad is that. I once use to judge people how smelt and now I wonder did they feel like I do? Did they just need to go see the doctor that day or pick up some medication from the chemist. Back then I would smell of expensive perfume and lavender body wash. How times change. Since being diagnosed I have been beat up for it, verbally abused for it, bullied by so called professionals and lived rough on the streets for 7 months homeless for 3 years. My r/ship with my youngest son is over. I am doing ok I have a bungalow by the sea now and I am content to live alone and let only a few people know the real me. My home is my sanctuary and I guard it well after past bad experiences.
Dude, this spoke to me. I’ve never sought out any bipolar or mental health blogs because they never felt…i don’t know…me. You have hit my nail on the head with this post; the first of yours i have read. The shower thing never crossed my mind as a result of my bipolar, but for some inexplicable reason i avoid as long as i feel i can. I will continue to read your writings and insights and i appreciate just knowing someone out there knows how i feel, at least in some ways. Keep on keeping on, girl. You’re doing a great thing!
Reading Natasha’s article plus the comments really opened my eyes to how harshly I judge myself, not only for bipolar disorder (I am permanently disabled) but also because of the autoimmune disease that makes it hard for me to shower or do other “simple” things like washing dishes, doing laundry, etc. without being in agonizing pain. It’s not great that others feel the same as I do, but at least I’m not the only one who beats myself up for being so weak and imperfect when I can’t do the simple things most people don’t even think about. It’s hard to congratulate yourself for taking a shower, or brushing our teeth, but we must do it. Self-deprecation helps bipolar win the day, and we can’t have that.
I have bipolar illness, and I too understand the showering problem. Although I usually take baths, not showers. I find that the less I bathe, the less I bathe. Brushing teeth is also a problem. It can turn into a horrible rut. ..Regarding the self-judgment thing: I have spent a lot of time thinking about the makeup of my character, and came to the realization that I was/am a perfectionist. It’s taken me a couple of years to understand why perfectionism is unhealthy. Natasha, I hope that you will make some more progress towards not judging yourself on your own mental illness.
Altering human behavior to make an individual more socially acceptable is comparable to altering the human genome for any reason. Life IS like a box of chocolates, you never know when your going to meet a nut. So? Live with it. What we think of our selves, normal or not is more important than what others think of us. Conclusion:
The Person There-In
You visit the person there-in, and say to him…
Don’t I know you from some far away place and time?
Didn’t you collaborate in this rhyme?
I don’t think so friend, I have better things to do,
Like muse of the misery of man and his zoo.
We barely speak much, nor chat or chatter,
I often wonder what’s the matter.
Strangers true we are!
Why have you bothered to travel so far?
I must confess I’m lost without you,
and many things have cost me dearly.
For lack of talk with you is my most grievous sin,
and I repent from afar and from within.
Do not snatch at me with remorse,
those lost days of foolishness are of course.
I’ve been here all along,
and died a thousand deaths in solitude forlorn.
Just a glimpse,
Say, look this way today.
I’m here,
I’m ready to begin.
Knowing me is no sin.
CM
I am truly grateful for those people who have gone out to do public education on the seriousness of mental illnesses. It can be hard enough coping with a lifelong thing that kills quality of life…and so to have more understanding people out there, all the better. For me I feel like mental illness is so nebulous, so not tangible, my mind is so scattered right now, it has a dream like quality to it at times…
Well I only have depression. It leaves a kind of sad wake of isolative years behind me. I cope with no friends year in, year out. I have moments of normalicy, but lots of ups and downs. When after 18 years I was just getting on top of it, the world was looking up for once, my nutrition and supplement program was really helping me…and 9 mos of feeling some hope in my life and I sustained a head injury. Now I am one of the unluck few to have a disorder that is little recognized by modern medicine called post concussion syndrome. I moved a bunch of things and boxes 2 days ago, and am feeling so terrible still- I feel sick. Headache, fatigue, terrible brain fog and confusion..my blood pressure regulation and oxygenation of tissues doesn’t seem to work normally since I hit my head, and hence the disaterous symptoms. I am all alone. I am used to being alone, I am used to dying dreams, to sacrificing my life outside my house, in order to care for myself, hurt, distressed wounded and living in pain. Plus on top of this loosing friends, who believe you are a fake, a drain etc. I always feel, in those moments if I am well enough, I want to be there for the less fortunate. To be less fortunate yourself with a sort of soul pain existence, gives you a knowingness to be able to relate to others in a state of trauma. At this point in my life, I am just like ok, screw it…I guess my life will not be like everyone elses…I just have to drop out, retreat, heal.
Poverty and mental illness…. I am not “allowed” to be sick and disabled.
So… here I am… pounding the pavement again…. trying to find, again, employment because I have:
0 income
0 savings
0 retirement
on Food Stamps
0 health insurance (can’t afford Obamacare deductibles)
and leaning on family for bills again… and being a Burden on everyone… cause to file for SSDI on Bipolar… will take months if not years to see if i am deemed.
Why? Cause to go to the pdocs and tdocs and take the bag full of pills…. I can’t work and function at a work.
Talk about the head chasing and biting the tail….
To do what is necessary for me and my state of Bipolar (cause I am a I):
I’d have to have psychotherapy twice or more a month, a psychiatrist once every other month or 2 months, take a bag full of pills.
I’d have to take time away from work for all the appointments, lab draws to measure med levels and deal with the side effects of all the meds (in addition to my blood pressure, high blood sugar, high cholesterol, arthritis and seizures).
I would then have to disclose at employment that i am disabled by Bipolar, Generalized Anxiety, PTSD, Seasonal Affective Disorder, Osteoarthtis, Diabetes, High Blood Pressure and Partial-Complex seizures.
I will then not have employment long.
Yet, I have to work cause:
I have nothing that is of my own but will lose all that isn’t mine for having no income to pay bills and no insurance to pay docs and scripts cause I’m not labeled “disabled” via SSDI… cause to get there will take months if not years….
and
meanwhile; what becomes of me while I await the judgment?
Homelessness, no insurance, no job, no income and family who disdain me for being a burden.
So, when I work and I have my mental illness cycles that spin so high or so low… I hide, isolate, barely function but I still roll. I may take a day or two off, claiming GI distress or something to be out of work… yet will have penalties applied because i called out.
I take “mental health” days and act as though I’m “hospitalized”… no phones, no curtains opened, bed and no shower and cable TV blaring.
I tell myself that “you are sick. You are sick with Bipolar as if it were the Flu. So, you are sick with the Bipolar Flu.” just to not berate and decimate myself internally… for not being able to function during those periods of time. I allow myself those 1-2 days. Yet, 2 days is all any employer really gives… without doctor’s notes…
meanwhile penalties are placed… for being disabled.
I, too, have a problem with showering…it hurts and I can’t explain why even here. I can go for days without as I’m that odd person who doesn’t perspire much.
I also look ok, normal to the public and work hard to keep it that way. I just tell people I’m retired when in fact I nearly had another nervous breakdown with my last job. I miss working a lot, am a type A that had to just one day quit by orders of psychiatrist and therapist or end up in the hospital. I feel guilty for not earning and living off my disability insurance. I feel marginal without a job. I also know I cannot cope with the pressures of a full or even part time job any more…nobody in my life really understands what being bi polar means to somebody like me.
Many days I cannot hardly get out of bed for periods ?????
It sucks
I’m very very hard on myself,all my life
I never thought it was part of BP more just character defect!
I only go out,once-2 x week ( socially)
Unless tea w my sister ( rarely)
Many days I cannot hardly get out of bed for periods ?????
Just remember,if anyone is ignorant towards you,it’s due to to fear of what they do not understand.
Put simply.
It still hurts,but may hurt less thus wise.
If they read,or walked in our shoes….but they don’t get it.
As each of us has a thing that’s a particular more challenging to us
It would be a world full of sheeple if all the same!
However,I empathathize with everyone …..
I hope Natasha,one day you’ll find over time indeed practice will help you with your showering.
I wish you only peace.❤️?Sandra
Just want to mention stigma & disability.
Ppl look at me,as I’m vegetarian,but for my back bones crooked posture)
Otherwise bright eyed thin ( but healthy thin not scary thin)
They assume oh,no way she’s not BP.
When ppl have witness a severe manic one they hide away in their apartments,there’s talk about me
I’m crazy,no one ever comes to see me,like why not?, I’d never drive her anywhere!”
One lady said this ok,” kohl we had aBP girl live here once VERY ODD THEY ARE!
Hi
Everyone
I think sometimes we forget & set too high standards & goals…..
Forgetting in the moment,we are unwell.
Though,Natasha,I’ve a thing about meeting ANY PPL
Detest & fear it soooo much.
However,Tues I especially went after my shop,..
Sat on the comfy padded benches,found a lovely girl .
Into fashion,common interest) easy flow of convo)
Then a young guy came….I WAS OK with that……she stayed quite awhile after shook my hand ( old school)
Saying,I’d love to talk to you again!”
True lovely girl.
The guy sat beside me,first thing I said to break the ice ” oh you just want to be round the pretty chicks!”
He blushed!
He didn’t say,but laughed.
Secret: 1- key to truly help social anxiety is…….HUMOUR…..honestly ……
I’ve never felt so at home with 3 at once EVER!!!!’
Nor SAFE.
Normally WAY WAY too paranoid thinking they’ll steal my shopping….etc money,blah.
Anything you do outof comfort zone is positivity & I am a perfectionist …
I’m nthinking are you,as well Natasha?
I think your not giving your self WAYYYYY enough credit where credit is DUE
You deserve,as we all everytime a change for the better,( positive) celebrate that!
You reap your OWN REWARDS don’t go looking for others approval….YOUR OWN SELF LOVE / ALL YOU NEED IS SELF LOVE!
Please press CREDIT ON YOUR CREDIT CARD!
HUMOUR)
Love Sandra in BP cyberland
All of this is so real. Now, I don’t have any problem at all with showering. In fact, with old-lady skin I probably do too much of it. But the rest?
Oh yes this can disable you to the point of not being able to work. For the last couple of years before I took a disability retirement I had days (lots of them) where I’d manage to dress and would be literally reaching for the doorknob and realize I couldn’t do it. Because one does not go to a job that requires public service if one is going to break out in tears for no particular reason, or snap at everyone else in the office for no particular reason.
Judging yourself for judging yourself for being unable to function some days? Oh yes.
What an absurd disease.
Natasha, thank you for bringing up such an important issue. I also fought the shower for years. Some expensive plumbing has helped me get a shower I can handle most days. I’m unemployable, look fine and get beat on for not working. Like I wouldn’t if I could?! No end to the frustration of the judgement of others, but I’m my own worst judge, jury and executioner. Thanks again for bringing up this topic. I hope you feel better soon, not that I expect it, but it’s still my hope for you. Thanks for sharing your life.
Wow, this is so “on the money”. I can totally relate to both not showering, and judging my disability. I KNOW that my bipolar disorder is disabling, but I tend to think that maybe it’s not. I tend to think like my close acquaintances, who mostly don’t think I’m disabled. Every single day I have to remind myself that a US administrative law judge “granted” me the label of being disabled. I also have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, which a lot of people don’t believe in, and which makes it twice as difficult to believe in my disability. I live in a fairly rural town which has a lot of farming residents, and all they know is working hard. They can’t relate to feeling bad enough to miss work. I mean, I don’t look sick. I can laugh sometimes, which adds to making me look “normal”. And, yes, there are things that I can do, like laundry, sweeping, and dusting. But that’s a long way from being healthy enough to work.
This is a topic that frustrates me. Don’t get the wrong idea, I don’t mean that I wish you hadn’t posted it. It’s actually very important, but I struggle sometimes feeling like I should “seem” more disabled at times than I do. But when I really look carefully at my situation it is clear that I am disabled. The people that know me the absolute best (my husband, my psychiatrist and my psychologist) believe that I am still disabled. I believe it myself, but it saddens me that I must still be.
There are many days over months when if you knocked on my door and visited me for a couple of hours (like my dad, brother, or neighbor) you’d think I was perfectly stable. You’d wonder why I’m still on disability. If you followed my blog, which some of my relatives do, you think “She can write almost every day, but can’t write for money?” Yes, sometimes I think about that briefly, too, but it’s not so simple.
Like you, Natasha, I neglect basic things in life that others wouldn’t think of neglecting. I don’t shower or wash my face more than three times per week (I don’t wear much makeup) and maybe wash my hair once per week. If someone asked me to explain why not, I’d be in the same situation you described.
I CAN do certain things most, but not all of the time. I can run errands to stores, I can straighten up the house (though we have a cleaning lady come in twice per month to really clean thoroughly), and I cook. I don’t have kids, but think I’d have a hard time really raising any right. Well, I guess I’ll never know. Even taking care of a pet is a challenge. Remembering to water plants can be a challenge.
My husband has seen me start things and quit them mid-way or after the first days many times, but there were a couple of things I did manage to complete at my best, like one online college course at a time. It all depends on my state. My moods do shift enough that a long-term commitment would still be risky. Frankly, my husband is afraid for me to take that plunge for fear I’ll lose my SSDI. I can understand it, really. If we lose my SSDI we are screwed.
I know that “taking the plunge” would turn me from being low anxiety to extremely high anxiety, especially if I attempted work outside my home. When I do dip my feet into working it will ideally be work that allows me a lot of flexibility in time off. Those opportunities are few and far between, and as Synergy wrote, don’t always yield sufficient money.
My pdoc would like me to try volunteering again, but I’m afraid. I guess I’ll try again when I’ve accumulated some long-term stability. But it wasn’t long ago that I was depressed for almost three months, then not long after on the road to mania. I’m still not 100% right. But if my dad came over this afternoon he might not see that “not quite right”.
I totally get the shower thing. I, too loathe to get a shower. I sometimes feel as if the water coming out of the shower head are tiny shards of glass. Sometimes getting a shower for me is extremely painful. My husband has been relentless and in some ways mean with his pursuit of getting me to shower. For the past month, I have been able to get away with not showering for a couple of days before I get scarred that he will find out. In defense of him, he has gotten 75% better with understanding my illness. And that’s going from -45%.
I have had trouble in the past accepting my disability. I have gone through three careers and 19 jobs to realize the law world, sales world and the classroom is not a safe place for me. I am now a freelance writer of mental health. I can set my own schedule, sleep in the middle of the day if my narcolepsy needs it. I can get up from my laptop and exercise. This, helps me tremendously. And you know, I am proud that I am a writer. I do not feel ashamed that my disability kept me from teaching or being a paralegal or sales executive. I am accepting me for me!
lifeconquering.com
Thanks for describing your judgmentalness about your own disability. This paragraph really speaks to me: “People Judge Mental Illness Disability: There’s an issue where people judge those with a disability due to a mental illness like bipolar disorder. People think that a ‘mere’ ‘mental’ illness can’t possibly cause severe disability. Sure, if you’re babbling to people who aren’t there while wandering the streets, maybe then, but if you ‘pass’ as normal? No, you can’t possibly be disabled.” I feel the “ambience” if you will, of this, ALL THE TIME. In my case, I “can’t work,” in that (1) I cannot be an employee, and (2) I have such a severe lack of stamina that I can’t sustain work over a long period of time. I do great, self employed. Really — I do. I make money, but not enough because of my lack of stamina. I’m paid well when I am self employed — I charge more money for my services than is customary, but due to this lack of stamina — physical AND mental stamina — I can’t bring in enough over time. I feel — well — I guess, just “trashed” because of this. I trash myself, and can’t bring myself to be “out” with my bipolar dx and my Social Security Disability. I feel like “people judge” me if I say I get Social Security — I’m deceiving the government, right? Stealing from the taxpayers????? Yeah, right, so I can get food stamps??????