Oddly, I find myself hanging off the outside of the CN Tower, 1168 feet in the air. I can honestly say I’m terrified and can barely glance beneath my feet. But how did I get here and what does it have to do with having a disability?
It’s actually a bit of a long story.
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Hi folks, if you’re long-time readers of mine, you might remember me mentioning Global Medical Education. This site, literally, offers you up-to-date, medical information, from experts in short video format for free. (This used to be a subscription service but they have changed their model — to the benefit of all of us.) And while I do have a working relationship with this site, I can honestly tell you their content is great, generally easy to understand, and covers a wide range of medical issues.
This brings me to why we’re here. Today I’m asking to get your thoughts on what topics Global Medical Education should include in their library. Share your thoughts and you’ll be entered to win a $25 Amazon gift certificate.
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I get quite a few messages from people who say I have saved their lives. (Of course, I get messages from people saying I’m killing people, too, but let’s not discuss those.) People say that if it weren’t for me, they would be dead. People say that, because of my work, I saved their lives. And, of course, in a few cases I’ve taken a somewhat more active role than that.
But today I want to tell everyone something: I didn’t save those lives, you did.
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I have heard from many people who are suicidal and want to die by accident. I guess “wanting to die by accident” may sound weird to some people but I totally get it. I have been one of these people myself. I envisioned myself dying in service to another – doing something incredibly brave that would end my life so that another could live. At least then people would view my death in a positive light and didn’t other people deserve to live more than me anyway?
What it comes down to is that these suicidal people don’t want to take their own lives (for many reasons such as family and friends) but they do feel they want to die and they feel an accident is the way to do that.
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I have been through lots of therapy and lots of therapists in my life and my contention is that therapy can’t be used to actually treat uncontrolled, serious mental illnesses. Now, don’t get me wrong, therapy can be supportive to a person with an uncontrolled, serious mental illness and therapy can be useful to a person with an uncontrolled, serious mental illness (such as in the case where the therapist tracks your bipolar symptoms and report changes to your doctor) but therapy cannot be used to actually treat a serious and uncontrolled mental illness.
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I need a break from bipolar. Like, seriously. You know when people say they need a vacation? These people have no idea what it really is to need a vacation. When you have a chronic illness, you suddenly understand what real, daily pressure is and how much you need to get away from it – if only you could. I wish I could get a break from bipolar.
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My father died Sunday at 8:10 a.m.. He was 69 years old.
I have bipolar disorder and I am grieving. I started grieving the second I heard my mother’s voice on the phone. She has a death tone. I knew by her hello and her pause that this was a death notification call. We all knew it was coming.
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I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder 17 years ago and, yet, I still can’t accept the fact that bipolar makes me sick on a daily basis. When the bipolar symptoms come, my natural inclination is to deny them, or at least deny that they are caused by a brain illness. I want to think to myself that I’m just having a bad day or I didn’t sleep well last night or I’m coming down with something. I want to think that something normal and transient is causing my symptoms. I don’t want to think it’s something out of my control and long-lasting. Even with all my experience, my mind still doesn’t want to accept that my bipolar is the thing making me sick.
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I call myself crazy. I do. I’ve written about it before. I also say, “I am bipolar,” so shoot me. It’s not that I say these things pejoratively, I don’t, I say them because they’re correct usages of the English language and they are accurate. Other people have a problem with this. But you know what, their problem is not my problem. If I want to call myself crazy, or bipolar, or a redhead that’s my business, not yours.
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