mental illness

I used to think that I would only be happy if I came as close to being “neurotypical” as possible. I thought that I needed to be cured to live a whole, fulfilling life (which is one of the downsides of the medicalization of our struggles, but that’s a story for another day).

I don’t want your green smoothie recipe, your yoga pamphlet, or your Google search results on the meds I take.

When one has a mental illness and thrives under routine and consistency, change can be akin to a four-letter word. For me, that is certainly the case. I loathe change.

When talking about my mental illness with people, I’m often asked about the stigma I have experienced and my answer often surprises them. I have never experienced stigma from friends, family, or employers. Of course, there is always one idiot in the crowd who says something stupid, but overall, stigma for me, hasn’t come from the layperson. The biggest form of stigma, as the Time to Change study reported, was from mental health professionals.

Is racism the only reason that nine people died in Charleston last week, or is there something more going on here?

This is the reality of my life. I am incredibly unstable right now, which is why everything is so extreme. So, no this isn’t the normal everyday life of a bipolar person, but it’s one part of what it’s like to have bipolar disorder.