Stigma

     What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the words “mentally ill”?  Most likely it’s people who wander the streets, clearly experiencing a break from reality, or who’s illness is so severe that they require institutionalisation, or even an incredibly dangerous criminal. The media has done a pretty good job of stereotyping psychiatric disorders. Let’s face it, the mentally ill people we see in movies go way beyond the average definition of crazy, every serial killer portrayed either has bipolar disorder or schizophrenia. And while in some cases these portrayals are accurate, there are many high-functioning mentally ill people out there, I myself am living proof (and my therapist assures me that I am not like the people wandering the streets). But even more importantly, the majority of these people don’t pose a danger to anyone (except maybe themselves). Lately mental health associations have been campaigning in an effort to make the public more aware of the realities of mental illness and to eliminate these stereotypes (something that is long overdue). Nonetheless, when I found out I had bipolar disorder I couldn’t help but worry about what people would think about me when they found out. Would they think I was crazy? Would they think that I wasn’t capable of the same things everyone else is? Would they think I should be locked up in a padded room? Ok, maybe this is a little extreme, but you get my point. Not everyone is going to think that there is nothing wrong with being mentally ill.

     Luckily for me, I’ve yet to encounter someone who has had an outwardly negative reaction to discovering that I have bipolar disorder, but I’m sure this won’t always be the case. Then again, everyone doesn’t need to know about it. Once my medications are stabilised and my condition is under control, there will be no need to tell anyone in order to explain my manic or depressive behaviours. The only problem is that recovery can take years. You get put on this drug and that, trying out higher and higher doses of each one, you have to deal with a myriad of side effects and spend countless hours in therapy. Unfortunately, I lack any ounce of patience. I like results. I like things to be done ASAP, not to be dragged on for months.  This poses a huge challenge for me in therapy because it doesn’t take days or weeks for this type of thing, it takes months or years and this frustrates me to no end. I like my therapist---okay I’m going to go off on a tangent here for a second:

It turns out that therapy doesn’t have to involve lying on a couch while someone writes down everything you say. I know eh? Who knew? Well ok, I was aware that most people don't have you lay down on a couch but until about eight months ago, therapy (and doctor visits) for me did involve someone writing down every word that came out of my mouth. Now I understand that taking notes is generally a good thing because it allows your therapist to remember what you talked about in your previous sessions but seriously, how is having someone write down your every word comforting? Your therapist’s office is supposed to be a safe place where you can talk openly but having someone transcribing my thoughts and feelings just makes me feel incredibly self-conscience and does not make me want to talk. Enter my new therapist. The first time I went to see her I was incredibly confused. She wasn’t holding a clipboard, she didn’t show any sign of wanting to write down what I said, she was just going to sit there and talk to me, have a (relatively) normal conversation with me and not make me feel like a mental case for having to go see her. Since then, she has become the only person in the mental health profession that I have ever trusted or been willing to talk to and a big part of it is that she doesn’t shove the different approaches down my throat like it’s a one-size-fits-all thing. If I think the exercises she gives me are stupid, I can tell her straight up and then we're done with it. Plus, like I said last time, she lets me email her between visits because it’s easier for me to talk to her that way. Anyway, she’s kind of awesome (hopefully she never reads this or I’ll never hear the end of it), and if you don’t like your therapist this much then get a new one, otherwise you’ll get nowhere, trust me. 

     Alright, where was I? Oh yeah, I like my therapist and I don’t mind going to see her, but it’s such a slow process. There’s nothing I can do about it though, I’m just going to have to deal. I have now completely segued and am not sure how to bring this back around to the point of this post but basically, the media makes life seriously difficult for people like me.  Hopefully this will change but in the meantime I’d like to get stabilised so that telling people is no longer a necessity.

Three posts in as many days, can you tell that I’m trying to avoid studying?