About My Mental Illnesses

21 December 2011

Dear Blog Readers (you faithful few)! I am blessed to have some wonderful people in my life, lots of them, and I generally show the world a happy-ish face. However, once in a while, something danders me up a tad, and I find it is useful to write about it.

Something has been bothering me for several years, so I thought it was time to say something. As most or all of you know, I have mental illness (two actually). I have seen the pathetic efforts of governments to stamp out 'stigma' and 'discrimination', with T.V. ads that, quite frankly, suck. ("Jenny, Alison wants to join our netball team." "Oh, is she the one with schizophrenia?" "Yes." "Okay, we'll let her join." And the stigma and discrimination magically disappear!

Friends, here is how it is for me. I accepted in my head a long, long time ago that I could never be cured, but it took longer for my heart to accept it. But, now I am, if not exactly comfortable of my illnesses, I AM NOT ASHAMED OF THEM! They are a part of who I am, and those who know me personally would, I hope, say that I don't take my stuff out on other people, I am NOT a crazy would-be axe murderer, and I have achieved reasonable success in my life, despite my 'conditions'.

But, when people that I meet in my life talk about reducing the 'stigma' and discrimination', I feel like a third rate citizen, a vegetable with a voice. Instead of trying to change the opinions and beliefs of the rude, ignorant, or simply unknowing people, those government campaigns, in my personal opinion, give the rest of the world the impression that we are poor, imbecilic cretins who need help to wipe their bottoms, and the rest of the world MUST pity us (as well as patronise us).

Well, I don't want anyone reducing my stigma and discrimination, because I refuse to feel any. I just want to be judged on who I am, and how I walk through the world. And I think that, if there is any educational programs run by governments, they should throw the money into improving the self-beliefs of we who HAVE mental illnesses, so that we understand that there is nothing more wrong with us than people with other conditions (cancer, disabilities, deafness, blindness, etc.). We are NOT our illness. We are people who lead as full and good lives as we can. Sometimes we get sicker than others (like remissions). Let's get THAT word out!

Today is my regular weekly appointment with my psychiatrist, a man who has helped me so much in my understanding and management of my mental illness, that I travel 100 kilometres each week to see him. After that, I run a one hour creative writing group with the in-patients at the hospital where he consults. Today one lady said to me, that she has asked her psychiatrist what was the difference between a medical ward and a psychiatric ward. He told her that there was no real difference except in the illnesses the people had, and how they were treated. She said, "No doctor, there is one BIG difference. In a medical there are lots of flowers. In a psychiatric ward, hardly any."

I can tell you this, friends, too. In a psychiatric ward or hospital, there are very few visitors. Another patient told me today that she does not tell her family that she is going into hospital. She tells them she is going for a three week holiday. Some people are too ashamed to tell their friends or families that they have mental illness. And others have told family and friends, but have been treated almost with contempt and blame. Thanks for allowing me to rant. If you have mental illness, then DO NOT be ashamed of it! You don't have to tell the world, but you need to know, within yourself, that you are just as unique, just as good, just as wonderful as anyone else on the planet.

If you have family members or friends with mental illness, they have REAL illness, but the illness is NOT the person. I am incredibly lucky - I have a wife and three children, and some friends who have supported me through all the years of my suffering. A few of you have stuck with me since the 1960s. Thank you, my darling Margaret, and those others who have made it possible to continue with my journey, no matter how hard it gets. Those few of you who are actually reading my serialised life story know of some of my story. With much caring and warmth to all. Thank you. Norm