mental illness issues Archives - Page 40 of 53 - Natasha Tracy Bipolar Expert

What to Do When Someone Tells You They Have a Mental Illness

Posted by Natasha Tracy | Jul 18, 2012

It’s extremely difficult to tell someone you have a mental illness. No one really likes a conversation that’s along the lines, of, “Hi. How’s the family? Did you know I have a possibly fatal, lifelong condition?”

It’s kind of a bummer.

But telling someone you have a mental illness is hard on the person you tell too. It’s not just hard to give the news; it’s hard to receive it. In fact, most people have no idea what to say upon hearing that someone has a mental illness. They may not know anything about the mental illness or only know what the media tells them – that people with mental illnesses are dangerous and scary. And while that may not be accurate, if it’s the only thing the person has ever heard, you can’t really blame them for acting negatively – at least initially.

So if someone tells you they have a mental illness, what should you do?

The Reason You Shouldn’t Get Angry

Posted by Natasha Tracy | Jul 11, 2012

There are very few times in life when I think it’s appropriate to be “mad.” It happens, without doubt, but generally I don’t find it very insightful or helpful. There’s always something underneath the anger. Usually it has to do with the desire to be loved. If you track the feeling back, like really, really back, that is what you’ll find.

Wife screams at husband for leaving socks on the floor for the 18th time.
Wife is angry because she doesn’t feel like her husband is listening to her.
Wife wants to be listened to so that she’ll feel important to her husband.
Wife wants to feel important to her husband so that she’ll know he loves her.
Wife wants to know he loves her so she knows he’ll stay around.
Wife is afraid of being left by husband.
Wife is afraid of being unloved.

That’ll be $3000 in therapy bills, please.

There’s No Point Getting Mad About Socks

So you see, there’s no point in getting mad about socks. Just skip down a bit and talk about wanting to be listened to and feel important. The husband has more of a chance of understanding what’s going on that way. The husband has more of a chance of understanding why socks matter. When of course, socks don’t matter at all.

Other people don’t feel this way. Other people seem intent on yelling about socks. I get it; I’m weird; I’m crazy; I don’t perceive the world the way everyone else does. And I really don’t perceive whyfor all the yelling about socks.

When You Leave Someone with a Mental Illness

Posted by Natasha Tracy | Jul 9, 2012

I’ve written about the fact that sometimes you have to say goodbye to a person with a mental illness for the sake of your own health and sometimes even for the sake of the person with the mental illness. I believe this even though the person is sick and the sickness is not his (or her) fault.

This post has been met with relief by some and anger by others.

Some are relieved that someone is finally talking about their reality while others are appalled that I would suggest leaving someone for an illness that is not his fault.

I’m Too Tired to Keep Fighting Bipolar Disorder

Posted by Natasha Tracy | Jul 5, 2012

I’ve written about why you should keep fighting the pain of depression and bipolar disorder before. This is one of my most referred to articles, actually, as I think it makes a solid anti-suicide argument and is something to remember when you’re overwhelmed with the pain of depression and mental illness.

But a commenter said something I think many people would say about fighting bipolar disorder:

. . . but I’m too tired to fight bipolar disorder. . .

Yeah. I understand. I’ve felt too tired for years.

Mental Illness – It’s Your Fault

Posted by Natasha Tracy | Jun 13, 2012

One of the frustrating things about having a mental illness is how often people say (or intimate) that the mental illness is your fault. Oh sure, they might not come right out and say, “You’re to blame for your bipolar,” (although some people do) but they might just say:

You wouldn’t be bipolar if you didn’t take all those meds
Your diet [eating wheat, dairy, etc.] is causing your mental illness
You wouldn’t be depressed if you exercised more
Your mental illness is “all in your head”
Your bipolar is made up by your psychiatrist
Mental illness is your punishment for not being Christian (or not being faithful enough)

And so on and so forth pretty much until my head is about to explode.

But here’s a newsflash – mental illness isn’t your fault. My bipolar isn’t my fault. No illness is the sufferer’s fault and I’m tired of having to defend myself to others just because my illness is “mental.”

Doom and Gloom Support Groups – Is Bipolar Really That Hopeless?

Posted by Natasha Tracy | Jun 4, 2012

The Problem with Online Support Groups

Recently a reader wrote into me and told me that online bipolar support groups scared the stuffing out of her. In her words:

. . . is it really that bleak? IS there a place to find support and encouragement and practical advice that isn’t so dire – comment after comment about divorce, violence, anger and mania…. I just need some perspective.

I feel for this reader. She is trying to support her significant other with bipolar disorder and she is finding that the supports are more harmful than helpful.

And, honestly, this is a big problem with support groups – they are often either doom and gloom or sunshine and light, and neither represent a decent perspective.

Something Good Comes from Bipolar?

Posted by Natasha Tracy | May 31, 2012

Making a Silk Purse Out of a Sow’s Bipolar

Many people feel that with this site, I have taken something terrible – bipolar disorder – and turned it into something positive – this site, my writing, etc. People feel that I have taken all the agony and sorrow and turned it into an ability to help people.

And true, those people are right, but I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Turning Bipolar into Something Good

I mean, I feel good about creating a valuable resource and I feel good about helping people but I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this notion of something good coming from bipolar. In my experience, nothing good comes from bipolar.

Now I know, some of you are going to tell me to “reframe” the issue. Look at it from a different angle. See the good in everything.

Well I say poppycock. I don’t have to see the good in a debilitating, disabling disorder. I don’t have to do it. And I won’t do it. And I won’t be a part of telling other people that “something good comes from bipolar” either.

Why Don’t People Get Help for Mental Illness?

Posted by Natasha Tracy | May 20, 2012

There is a lot of help available for people with a mental illness. There are hotlines, mental health resource locators, therapists, doctors and many others. And yet, many people with a mental illness continue to live every day with bipolar disorder, depression, schizophrenia, post-traumatic stress disorder and other mental illnesses without getting help.

And what’s worse is that we know that by not getting help, or by delaying help, the course of the overall illness and outcome is worse.

So why don’t people get help for mental illness?

The Desperation of Mental Illness and Depression

Posted by Natasha Tracy | May 16, 2012

I woke up one morning in 1994 crushed with depression. The first thing I thought of that morning was how much I wanted to kill myself, and if I couldn’t do that, then how much I wanted to hurt myself. I kept cutting implements and bandages near my bed just in case the feelings were too much to bear.

Of course, this was like every morning of my 16-year-old life. I was depressed, but I didn’t know it. I only knew that I wanted to die. I needed to die. I needed it like most people needed breath. And I knew that no one understood.

Home Life, Suicide and Depression

My home life was one of the things driving me to depression and granting me the leanings of suicide. Things there were a hellish nightmare of screaming and hate. And the people related to me and forced to love me gave me no consolation whatsoever as I was sure that they didn’t. These people hated me and wanted me gone every bit as much as I did.

This was, at least partially, my depression talking, but I didn’t know it then. I didn’t know what depression was and I didn’t know how loudly it spoke.

The Only Place That Would Have a Depressed Me

So I found myself in my car trying to drive anywhere away from there. Away from the nexus of crazy. So I drove to the only place that I knew would have me – to the house of my rapist.

As is most often the case my sexual abuse was complicated. And while I hated what this man in his 40s did to me the one thing I couldn’t live without was his love. He would tell me he loved me. This was undoubtedly a lie but convinced as I was that no one else did, that my life was worthless and that I should die, that one sliver of love offered by a minion of Satan made me keep breathing.

I arrived at his house to find him not home – away, undoubtedly grooming other little lovelies for his nest. So I did the only thing I could think to do, I curled up on a square of cement near his front steps and went to sleep weeping – an attempt to escape the world that was trying to kill me.

A Picture of Mental Illness in Crisis

This is a picture of a girl in crisis. A girl so tightly wound in the grasp of depression that she can see no way of dealing with it at all. A girl so desperate to feel anything but the pain of mental illness she was prepared to put her body and her soul in harm’s way just to not feel like death was upon her for one brief moment in time.