Northern Lights in Winter, Churchill, Manitoba Canada (Webshots)I've been thinking about responses to my last post.
I've got to say that I don't know what it feels like to feel the need, or to live a life with drugs and alcohol. I qualify that, because when I am at the lowest, or even in a rage, I'd like my IV drip to something numbing and fast, please! But I don't want to wallow and stay there. And contrary to any impression I might have given, I am, by far, not some prissy little Mormon girl. I know what values or morals are now, but I can say I certainly did not lead a life of some kind of perfection, before or now, and I'll just leave it at that. I've been lucky to know people like mysti who really exude a sweet Godly quality without even knowing it. A few sweet friends like that have blessed my life immeasurably.
I also know what it feels like to grow up in dysfunction and just have things happen to me that I was sure were bizarre and there must be only 2 (okay 5) other people on the whole planet that went thru things like that. That's just a guess, but it sure feels that way. It's crazy how we can all feel so alone when nearly all of us are suffering and could in fact bond with each other.
So I don't want to be the evil judge for what goes on in peoples' lives. And I don't ever want to suggest that when rotten horrible things happen in our lives a person can't in fact turn out great. In fact, it seems having rotten, scary or weird things happen often makes a person strong. It really is like the all the pressure and friction of life cracked and faceted and made it so that all could see the gem that is that person.
I wish for people to love and know within themselves, that it does not matter what you look like, it does not matter how large or small your body is, it does not matter the things that may have happened to you - you really are that gem already, whether you or the world can see it yet. For those that that is a shocking thought, or one that they had not digested before, know that if you believe just a little in that value - the possibilities, the places you can go, what you can accomplish and be is unfathomable.
My peeve with folks who 'use' has much to do with the environment where I met some.
Even in a place where we were all together, in a mental hospital having problems, it still seemed that they somehow felt superior or better than the lowly mentally ill person. Perhaps that is their bravado. So my bravado is the reaction against it. It's hard to always seem to be considered on the bottom when it's entirely unwarranted or unfair. That was an anger and resentment that I held onto. I never really fully understood their hell, and I'm pretty sure they never knew mine.
As I was typing even more response to my last post, I realized that the usual person, even other mentally ill folks, don't know what its like in a mental hospital. My MH experiences do define me, I still think of periods of my life being punctuated by this or that time in one. Maybe a good way to put it, is that some may feel that drugs and alcohol stole their youth. I feel that going psychotic and the ensuing 'treatment' stole mine, and more than once. And no can relate to it, or would even want to admit it. Again, I admit to feeling bitter about that. I am not sure how to get over it, because the past is unrepairable is it not?
I think the key to accepting so many of the horrible things might even be a key to stopping or dealing with my unimaginable rage sometimes. I've been told many times that my problem is that I don't accept this, the bipolar. In my heart, I agree that I don't accept it, all I know what to do is to try to rise above it, a tactic that has reaped some rewards. Are we supposed to accept this? I think everyone around me thinks so, and keeps waiting for me to 'do it' but I haven't a clue how. I really don't know how to even start accepting this. Maybe I'm afraid that I would stop trying to get anything done. But the truth is, I don't know the first thing about accepting 'The Plague,' I really don't know where to start in order to accept it.
I don't want to snuff out anyone's light. My own light struggles to shine. The last thing I want is to be some derisive bitch pissing off people. I'm not the judge. And I am not here to make you feel bad.
Be nice to the mentally ill. For one will rise up, get a blog, and try to cut you like a bad knife out of the cafeteria. Then, they will plead insanity. Have a nice day. :)
3 comments:
LOLOLOL you know why they get all "superior" about it??One they are hating themselves and have to hate on someelse to feel just a little bit better and two- you can quit doing drugs. IF you have enough balls and guts to do so. You have a choice. Ultimately they always have a choice. We dont get a choice. THAT SUCKS and it pisses me off too.I could quit doing drugs. I cant quit being bi-polar. Thing is tho- they arent superior because they have done it to themselves. They chose it. Whatever the reason- they made a decision to pick it up once and pick it up again and to continue on with it. I did. I knew when depression was coming I could avert it. If it was here I could make it go away. I still know that. That is some hard info to fight. When I was in the mental hospital (for depression not drugs- was never hospitalized for drugs, ended that on my own and had a few years clean time before the hospital) I was SCREAMING and crying at the shrink. "Goddamn it- I have been in this depression for months and months. I have been doing this "the right way, I go to the therapist. I take the legal meds the right way. I cant work, I cant function. I'm out of sick leave. I HAVE to work and feed my kids. I cant "wait six weeks" one more time. I can take $20 and go to nearly any street corner and put myself back to work tomorrow. WHY cant you almighty doctors do the same damned thing?!?!?!!?" He looked at me really sadly and sad that at least half the people in the rehab next door were there for the same kind of thinking........ I dont use now. But when that depression comes and I cant do a darned thing and I think about how I could flip myself right out it......sometimes it gets really hard. However learning I was bi-polar and understanding WHAT I was doing when I used and the consequences helped to stop some of that and I am lucky in that the depression hits to hard and fast for me to actually go out and do anything about it. You do get props for never having had used. Trust me it would only have made your life worse. It is something to be proud of. I wish to God I never had, there were consequences and still are..in a round about way. Its not something I am proud of. Not one bit.If I could do it all again, I would never touch a street drug EVER
By the way -I hate this freaking illness too. Its a totally unfair and NOT right to give people mental illnesses.You know sometimes I offer to trade mine and my daughters illnesses in on say losing my legs or breasts or something.ANYTHING but this as long as mental illness is removed from family and they can all be healthy and happy. I'd take most anything physical on myself in trade for that
I had this whole thing typed and ready to post, and Microsoft died on me. Death to Sparky!!
What I had to say was, I know you’ve had a hard time, Raine. I get mad when I hear they gave you ECT, NO Bipolar should have that! I know why they did it too – you were badly on the depressed end, they didn’t know about the up side, meds weren’t working and they thought it was all they had left. I know another Bipolar that had the same thing happen – she was so depressed she was catatonic and she hadn’t been properly diagnosed yet. She still has dark marks on her temples where it was applied! That’s some crazy shit.
I have actually been obsessed and concerned and worried about these past two posts I’ve done. I asked my Mom about it, and she gave the best advice of all, “Maybe you shouldn’t post about things you don’t know about.” I agreed with her, but I said, “Well what about all the crazy things I’ve been thru that nobody relates to?” and she said, “I know, but you should probably stick to things you know about.” My Mom has seen everything with me, more than anyone on this Earth, she understands my hell. So there you go.
Please know that I’m not judging. Frankly you have always seemed pretty together to me and I have always been impressed with how stable your life seems and that its so nice that you have kids, in fact. I can also tell you I absolutely was premenstrual when writing the first one (Twinkie defense, Twinkie defense!). You telling me the suffering that you endured only impresses me with you. I want you to know that I consider you a winner, a champion as my Mom says, for doing the best you can and continuing to fight.
I had someone tell me that I was lucky and that I had it better than people with cancer because they could die from it. Besides being offended that she was ranking illnesses (especially when she truly knows NOTHING about them!) I believe she is incorrect. If you die because of physical illness, most churches/society thinks you still have a shot at heaven. However, if you kill yourself, whatever the circumstances, there’s the nutty stigma that you…won’t. So if at least 30% of our people kill themselves, that must be a damn bad illness AND a lot of people think they’re going to Hell to boot. Not to mention the daily torture that is the illness, obviously the lack of respect it gets, and the damn stigma on top of it. That bitch didn’t know WHAT she was talking about!!
I much prefer to be an accepting and non-judgmental person and I swear than when mostly sane, I am. You never need to feel you have to justify anything with me, although knowing things you’ve been thru really just makes me like you more, because I know how this illness can tear a person up and spit them out. It is horribly difficult to manage and it’s not like anybody makes it any easier.
I know that I’ll never like the way some people have treated me and I still think that most people would realize their happier when not juicing themselves, if they could have the help to see it and live it. But then someone somewhere is saying, “That damn Bipolar, she complains so much, she doesn’t know how good she has it. Poor little dummy.” So again, who am I to say shit? I am sure I’ll continue to complain as that Bipolar though. I’m still a ranter. And there’s no pill to change my ways.:) Well, antipsychotics are great for knocking you out and some anticonvulsants actually work – but since when did a person have to understand pharmeceutics just to live day to day? :)What a life.
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