When I was diagnoses as a manic depressive, now replaced by the cool, epic and trendy word bi-polar disorder, at the age of 14 I can’t remember feeling any different than just having been told I had the flu.
Later, Generalised Anxiety Disorder joined the party. Being who I am, I examined and read up on these issues at and I did not feel defeated. It merely made me feel less alone being able to name what is hurting me. Not an excuse – an explanation as to why I reacted so different to others.
All the symptoms, panic attacks and excessive emotions that pump through me was all I knew. My only reality. I don’t know a time without it.
I accepted me and put my arm around all these heavy burdened disorder words and we evolve to a point where I don’t stand separately from my “disorders” but they are part of who I am.
I was a very independent teenager. I took myself to my first gynae visit annually, dentist visits twice a year, and visits to my GP for all my “madness, toil and trouble”. I asked to be admitted to psyche ward because I was suicidal and a danger to myself at 16.
Nobody suggested I see a psychiatrist or psychologist until I was hospitalised. I spent less than an hour with a doctor I did not gel with and never went back.
I have seen many doctors in the years that followed, looking for answers, a cure!… and I came away with one piece of advise that I steer my lows on. “Thinking about suicide is one thing….when you start planning it…get the hell out of there and get to a hospital!” :)
Nobody explained what I had in medical terms, what I can expect to happen, what treatments are available …if I could lead a “normal” life…. no wonder mental illness equalled the flue for me.
Nobody even had the kindness to tell me it is going to be my most faithful mistress who would never leave me, nor forsake me – until death us do part. (I always find it funny that my dark side mistress is female.)
Besides the annoying bone/deep tissue/chronic fatigue the specialist mentioned, as I sit here tonight, I wonder how many things, people, situations and relationships my mental illness have dismantled to a place hopes and dreams go to die.
The problem with mental issues are that you are a high maintenance personality by default. You are not sunshine all day, every day … But when you well, wow! You are mighty fine. Life and soul of the disco ball. Everyone wants to dance around the disco ball…. Very few can deal with no sunshine when she’s gone.
Highs are so high that elopement seems trivial and low is so low that I believe I am not lovable, just as I am – and therefore nobody will love me ENOUGH to STAY.
Some relationships end because people react to my illness and not the core me – but to give them credit, who am I and who is the dark mysterious mistress who is so powerful?
I wish you enough,
PS. If you write “hugs” as a comment to the post I will give you a small haunting. Don’t piss me off.
Posted by Wenchy from the second cloud on your left with WordPress for BlackBerry.