"You don't seem bi polar."

Not so long ago these words were said to me.

I felt like asking "What does a person with bi polar disorder seem like?"  I, however, didn't.  I'm not even sure what was meant by the comment.  I pondered what it could have meant.  Maybe missing more days where I volunteer, maybe doing "obviously crazy" things.  So, I am going to talk about who I am as a person to demonstrate what it actually means to be bi polar.

I just recently attained my permanent residency in Canada, so I've begun looking for full time work.  This is a long and difficult process as I am attempting to maneuver a career change.  Career change from what?  Well, being as I had gotten sick in University and felt that I was unable to get the support I needed and so flunked out of my courses, when I returned home (eventually) after a manic phase, to a very small town I was presented with very few employment options.  As such I took employment where I could: a Wal-Mart.  I worked there for a while before having another manic phase taking me to another state where I began to work, again, in retail.  This became who I was professionally and so I was left with feeling as though I could do nothing else.  I moved to yet another small town where the only place to really work was either Wal-Mart or a grocery store.  I decided to change things up and worked for the grocer.

So, where does this tie in with what my career change is?  As you could have guessed, I am trying desperately to get out of the retail business.  My interview is actually with an inbound call centre for a larger telecommunications company.  Not ideal, but I stand a good chance (I feel) of getting this work full time work.

Also of note on this front is since volunteering here at an alternative high school I've developed strong connections with people and have networked extensively allowing many additional opportunities to develop such as working in the day camps, or other positions.  Which is towards my ultimate career goal.

I play video games, board games, and pen and paper role-playing games in my spare time.  I usually try to take as many people as I can along for those rides, because they are more fun in groups.  Which seems opposite of my social anxiety, but that is a story for another time.  I have been learning HTML, CSS, and JavaScript in my spare time.  I'm doing this because of a program I found a while ago that allows the user to use the before mentioned languages, as well as it's own markup language, to write choose your own adventure stories/games.

I am happily married, and have been married longer than I've been seeking treatment.  More importantly than that is the fact that I have a great support system here that includes feeling as though I am making a difference in the world, friends and family here, as well as hobbies to keep me busy.  I try not to miss days, though I was incredibly sick with the flu for a few days last year and had to miss.  I have been told that I am "doing better than expected," whatever that is supposed to mean.

That's not to say my life is normal, I don't/can't drink nearly as much as I used to because of my medications.  I have to make sure my schedule is followed, my pills are taken, and other things to ensure my continued success.  I'm not perfect on any of those fronts, I've been known to stay up too late, miss days of medications, and the like.  I am better than I used to be for sure.  But no, I do not "seem" bi polar.  Because I am more than that, I am a complete individual with unique interests, goals, and abilities, just like everyone else.

I just happen to have an illness that sometimes causes issues in my life.  The point I think I am trying to make here is, we (people with mental health issues), are more than stereotypes and bit roles.  We aren't crazy (in the way people assume we are), we aren't ax murderers, or drooling messes.  By and large we are normal, everyday people, and the person you work with may have a serious mental illness such as schizophrenia, or bi polar, and you'd never know.  The more we we break the stigma, the more we openly talk about these things, the better as a whole our world will become.

So, what does it mean for you to be you?  How do you define yourself?  Any thoughts, I'd love to hear from you out there!  Until next time.
--JJM

Should you tell other people about mental health conditions?

     When is a good time to tell someone you suffer from a mental health condition?  The answer, as you may have guessed, is highly subjective.  Many factors play a role in the time, place, and manner in which this information should be relayed.  The biggest question, I suppose, is “does this person need to know?”  For instance, it is important when talking to a doctor or other professional about health concerns and medication that you fully disclose your diagnosis, current symptoms, and your list of medications.  It may factor into things like why your blood pressure may be high, or why you are overweight.  Many psychiatric medications are known to cause weight gain, or you may be a binge/emotional eater, in which case they may suggest therapy in conjunction with diet and exercise.

    Telling a partner, or potential partner, can be a rather tricky situation.  I have always made it a point to tell people I am dating very early on that I have bipolar.  This is because it goes to explain some of my behaviours and lets them decide if they want to invest the emotional energy in the relationship beforehand, especially while I was attempting to manage my conditions without medication.  Another important factor is that many mental disorders have a genetic component and therefore may be potentially passed on to children.  As with any genetic consideration you should always tell anyone you may have children with of your contributing factors.

     Letting a friend know of your condition is something that is far more subjective than others.  Does this person need to know?  Exactly how close are you?  Is it something that is likely to impact their life as well?  Depending on how well you know someone it may strengthen the relationship by giving a reason as to why you behave the way you do.  For instance, if you have social anxiety and often cancel plans, letting a friend know that this is the reason you cancel plans could very well lead to understanding and compassion.  If they react negatively or abandon you, chances are they were not a very good friend to begin with.  Strangers and casual acquaintances almost never need to know.

     As I have stated before, having a mental illness is not unlike having any other kind of illness, and a good guideline is if you would tell a particular person about a hypothetical physical illness, then telling them about a mental one is probably okay.  Of course, this is all highly subjective and no one should be forced into telling another person something they are not comfortable with.  If you are not comfortable telling someone something as intimate as your mental health, then don’t.  However, keep in mind that only by openly talking about it can we eliminate the stigma surrounding mental illness.

     I was once talking to someone in the mental health field; they said something along the lines of being less forthcoming about our mental state to those that do not need to know.  I think there is a clear cut difference between being proud of something and being accepting of it.  I do not think that the condition itself is something to be proud of; however a person should take great pride in their victories over their illness.  Just because you shouldn’t necessarily be proud doesn’t mean you should be ashamed either.  No one should be ashamed of something they cannot help or change.

     What are your guidelines for telling someone that you have a mental health issue?  Or, on the flip side, what would you be comfortable hearing someone tell you about their issues?

--JJM

Ending discrimination against mental illness.

     We are conditioned to fear those with a mental illness.  I remember, even in a group of other people who live with such conditions, the fear associated with a young man who laughed and talked to himself.  There was no reason for anyone to be afraid of him, yet many in the community did.  They feared he was “crazy” or at least “crazier” than they were.  They thought he was going to snap at any moment.  He was, as I remember him, gentle and very friendly.

     Why are we so prejudiced against those with a mental health condition?  I’ve mentioned before, but it needs repeating, the media is largely to blame.  Not just news media, but also film and literature as well.  We are bombarded with images of violent people who are mentally ill.  Perhaps a so called “psycho-killer” or some other stereotype that has existed for so terribly long; perhaps some person popping their medications to make the bad things go away.  When a violent crime is committed, the news media is very quick to find a sort of mental illness to blame away the violent behaviour.  Something near 25% of the adult population suffers from some sort of mental health condition.  It certainly stands to reason that a portion of violent criminals may indeed be seeking treatment for an illness, but is that really pertinent to why the crime was committed?  Is it important to mention if the shooter were diabetic or on blood pressure medications?

     Why does the news focus on such a singular aspect?  I wonder if it makes it more palatable; being able to turn the event into “us versus them,” the sane, versus the insane.  The simple truth of the matter is when undergoing proper treatment those with a mental health issue are not any more likely to commit a crime than any other person.  Likewise, today’s society is biased against those with such an illness and tends to turn them into victims themselves.  Over simplifications, stereotypes, and false information lead to the vilification of those with a mental health condition.

     It is precisely these stereotypes that cause shame and fear in openly discussing mental health concerns.  Those that suffer are afraid to speak up, and those who do not know better are afraid to ask at the risk of incurring wrath and ire.  As someone with a mental health condition, I understand the importance of being patient and kind in my dealings with those who simply do not understand, but equal consideration must be given.  That is, do not be shocked if the answer you get is not the one you expected.  Be patient with the person’s response.  They simply may not be ready to talk about it.  However, both parties must be willing to discuss these matters.

     It is a problem world over that an employer would hold in higher importance the mental health of a person over their physical health.  In the United States, at least, there is a provision that reasonable accommodations may be requested by the employee in doing their job.  What is often the case is that they mean accommodations for physical limitations may be requested, but mental limitations are met with skepticism because they are “in the person’s head.”  The only thing that should matter is “can this person, with reasonable help, do this job?”

     What can we do about it?  As a whole we can stand up for those too timid to stand up themselves.  Contact news stations to ask what purpose did mentioning mental health serve in an article.  Don’t watch films that portray the mentally ill in a negative and exaggerated light.  Do not go to these Halloween haunted asylum attractions, and write in protest of them.  Those with mental health issues can strive to be shining examples whenever and however they can.  They can be open to questions, and try hard not to be offended by ignorance.  Remember that they are just trying to understand.  Those in entertainment can stand up and refuse to allow such stereotypes to be perpetuated.  Make a stand and have mental illness cast in a realistic light for a change.  Together we can end the discrimination against those with mental health conditions.

--JJM

My experiences with shame and stigma.

     Many, if not all, of us have experienced some sort of stigma at a point in our lives.  Before getting into the stigma I have faced let me say that I know exactly how privileged I am.  All in all, I’ve had a pretty good life.  That being said I am going to talk about my experience with stigma as it pertains to mental health issues.

      What is stigma?  For those that don’t have a good idea about what stigma actually is, it is a negative stereotype.  It often trivializes those that it stereotypes, belittling them.  It also usually offends them, and patronizes them.  If it does any of those things, chances are it is an example of stigma.  I would say that stigma comes from assumptions.  When we make assumptions we run the risk of stigmatizing people.

     Growing up there was nothing specific I can remember being said against those with mental health issues.  There was certainly something in the air in general though.  The media is steeped with stereotypes against those that suffer with mental health issues.  Perhaps that is where I learned that there was something wrong with something being wrong.  At any rate, I learned two things: getting help is not something a man does, and medication is only for when there is something you can’t fix on your own.

     As my life progressed and I needed help I didn’t even know how to ask for it.  It was offered, but I couldn’t accept it.  When I was in the hospital for the first time my own assumptions about what those with mental health issues crept into the open and didn’t allow me to get the help I desperately needed.  I thought to myself “these people are crazy, I don’t belong here, I’m normal.”  After getting out of the hospital I was given tremendously bad advice by those who didn’t understand, didn’t want to understand, or had a skewed perspective on what was going on with me.

     I think they were honestly trying to help, but were of a generation that had less of a grasp on mental health than I did.  I think the biggest issue was everyone simply not talking about what was going on.  There was something wrong with me; others claimed it was just weakness.  There was shame, shame in disappointing others, shame in not being able to look others in the eye with confidence.  I remember feeling so broken.

     I didn’t know how to talk about what was going on with me.  This caused me to run.  I tried to run as far and as fast from everyone I knew, and when my issues flared up my first instinct was to run.  This caused many failed relationships.  Not just romantic, but friendships and familial relationships were ruined.  I was so afraid of being judged harshly and part of me felt it wasn’t their business.  I could handle my own affairs solely.  This always ultimately led to isolation.  If I was alone, I couldn’t be judged.  That seemed like the best course of action.

     It wasn’t until I entered the work force that I fully understood what type of discrimination I could face for having bipolar and being hospitalized.  I remember the shame I felt immediately after my latest (and hopefully last) suicide attempt.  There was nothing but shame in my eyes.  I feared that I would lose my job.  I learned shortly thereafter that another employee was demoted for being on antidepressants that were supposedly causing her to make mistakes.  I worked in retail, which in and of itself is not forgiving of any missed time, and every time I needed to call off I was so afraid I was going to lose my job that I desperately needed.

     I was ashamed and told white lies to coworkers so that they would not know what had happened regarding my hospitalization and my continued instability.  I was afraid that they would treat me differently.  I was afraid of the discrimination I would face.

     One particular instance I remember was talking with my therapist about doing work that I found fulfilling, and I had said that when I worked the customer service desk I felt more as though I were doing something that mattered because I made people happy.  My therapist had suggested that I get a note from my psychiatrist stating that I could only work the desk.  When I turned it in I was met with overwhelming opposition.  The request was seen as unreasonable in that it was more stressful and harder work therefore it made no sense that I should have such a request.

     I was so careful about what I said to anyone about why I was only behind the desk and of course made it a point to hide anything going on with me.  I couldn’t always hide, of course.

     Eventually a local relocation forced me to leave that particular store and part of me really wonders if the reason I had such a hard time finding work (I didn’t), while I was still in the state, had to do with receiving a negative review by my previous place of employment.  For some reason I was even denied a transfer to a local store that was within walking distance.

     It was not until recently that I have fully embraced what is going on and realizing that there is discrimination against those with mental health issues and that the only way for that to end is for people to stand up and publicly state what is going on with them.  That being said, I am trying very hard to correct people when they make a discriminatory statement and be more open about my own issues.

    So, how about you?  What are your experiences with stigma?  Have any stories or anecdotes about discrimination?  Share them in the comments below if you feel comfortable.  Let’s get a dialog going on this, shall we?

--JJM

My feelings of shame regarding my mental illness.

     The moment I realized I needed help with my mental health issues and seriously went about seeking treatment was when I was on a business trip.  There was a crisis situation and I didn’t know who else to contact so I contacted my superior who was also in the same hotel and floor as me.  I was seriously out of it, no shoes, my shirt was on backwards, and I can’t even begin to tell you what my hair looked like.  I asked her to take me to the hospital.  It was probably the single longest rides of my life.

     I remember the advice she gave me.  “Don’t tell them what really happened.”  I ignored this advice; however what information I did give the hospital was fuzzy at best.  I reasoned (somehow, given my then current mental and emotional state) that if the hospital did not know what I had done, their treatment would be ineffective.  Several hours later I came to be able to understand the world around me again.  It was then that I learned that my supervisor had stayed to make sure I was okay.  I was surprised by this.

     There was an intense shame in her staying.  What would she think of me, and what would she tell my co-workers?  Even odder was that at the time I also did not want my wife to know where I was or what was going on.  Again, though she knew I needed help (we had hoped it would be manageable until I could get some form of insurance) I did not want her to know just how far I had fallen.  I was severely embarrassed, and afraid that she would find me disgusting and want to leave me.

     I think it was the mid-afternoon of the next day of my stay in ICU that I called her.  Shame was all I felt as I called her, and when she came and embraced me, there was still that shame.  It was discovered that my co-workers knew I was in the hospital (though they did not know exactly why) and wanted to visit me.  Of course this thought filled me with the utmost of dread and I vehemently disallowed such visitation.

     When I got out of the hospital I was still very fragile, getting used to medication and readjusting to a psyche that fully realized what it was capable of made me very emotional.  Everyone asked me where I had been, and when I replied “the hospital” their next question was always “what for?”  I was, and am, a firm believer that most people do not actually care, they are just very nosy.  This left me with a vortex of shame as well.  I justified it with “It is none of their business.”  Honestly though, would I have felt the same way if I had gone in for a medical procedure?  I would have to venture a “probably not.”  I concocted a basic, essentially true, story-- I was in the hospital for a previously untreated condition.

     This did not stop me from worrying that my supervisor had told people what had really gone on and people just wanted the gory details, so to speak.  As such I became increasingly paranoid that my illness was showing, and that someone would piece together what had really happened.  Talking to my therapist about my life and my job we needed to modify my employer’s expectations of what I could and could not do.  Getting a doctor’s note modifying my duties was easy, but attempting to explain to my supervisors these changes needed to be made was nearly impossible.

     There was a strange mixture of shame, fear, and anger when they would ask why these changes needed to be made.  I would say that “my doctor thinks it is best for my overall health and recovery,” but this would not suffice for them.  I felt anger that my answer was not good enough, and shame that I may have to tell them exactly what happened. 

     Around this time, they transferred a co-worker out my department and exiled her to menial work when she admitted she was on medication for depression.  Whenever she made even the smallest mistake they blamed it on her illness and said that she could no longer do her job.  This was after three years of doing that same job while no one knew what was going on.

     This notion terrified me.  I couldn’t handle being in any other position, let alone another department.  I needed time off for therapy and doctor’s appointments—and psychosocial rehabilitation.  They asked me why I needed such time off and that it was unfair for me to expect that kind of special consideration.  As time moved forward it became apparent that I needed to transfer to a different location.  This transfer was denied because of my medical issues.  As such, I was left with this utterly destroyed feeling.

     This has lead to more time in the rehabilitation program and more time to focus on recovery as a whole through therapy and proper medication (it took a while for them to get the cocktail right).  As such I have become more comfortable in knowing that there is nothing inherently wrong with me on a social level, I just have some issues (and who doesn’t?).  If I am ever in a similar position again, I feel confident that I can now stand up and admit what had happened, not feel ashamed of it, and deal with the consequences of this attitude with assertiveness and strength.  I would certainly handle it without the fear and shame I felt in the past.

     I know I am not the only one who has felt this way in dealing with their diagnosis as it pertains to the social ramifications of having any mental illness.    I offer only this thought:  in order for there to be a wave something must move.  If we (those with any kind of diagnosis) allow ourselves to be brow-beaten and made to feel so much shame it will continue to happen.  Only when enough people stand up and do not allow the fear of stigmatization to overwhelm them can things begin to change.  A wave starts small, nearly unnoticeable, but eventually it gains momentum and cannot easily be stopped.

--JJM