Something has to trigger me to talk about Bipolar Disorder. I don’t like to discuss it because it makes me feel sick inside — physically ill. I will take my night medications and get a little panicky because I am certain that if I don’t fall asleep shortly after, I am going to vomit them up. The valproic acid alone causes a slight burning sensation down my esophagus as If I swallowed a milliliter of icy/hot.
The Bipolar Detective
I have a friend who reads my blog, so after they read this I just might be out that friend. But just as she could be open and honest, this is me being open and honest. My friend is doing a rotation in child psychology. It’s tough on her because she feels she lacks the empathy for it. That is understandable because I lack empathy for drug addicts; we all have our thing. What triggered me though was when we were talking about it and I was suggesting a tip to fake the empathy until she’s out of it, she uses her sister as why she cannot feel for these troubled kids. She loves her sister as much as the average human being loves their family members, but she couldn’t always “handle her crap”.
I regret ever having commented on her post because even though I am not her sister and the fact she’s also telling me she feels nothing towards these kids, that was like a slap to the face. And then deepening the blow by saying that mental health needs people who “really, really care” and have “endless patience”. No, we don’t need mothers, thank you. We need understanding Doctors, Nurses, Health Techs, etc. The counselors and psychotherapists should care, yes. But we need clinical just like any other person on this planet that has a health condition.
Give anyone endless patience and they’ll run all over you. You have to give them boundaries and rules and show them as much as they can get frustrated, so can you. Walking on eggshells is bullshit and people really need to understand that. We are all human, mental disorder or not.
We don’t want your pity, we don’t want to be coddled. We want you to understand that we are human. Fucked up and sick sometimes, we are still humans with real emotions and deserve being treated as well as the next person. We are not our disease.
Related articles
- That Fork in the Road (combatbabe.com)
- Coping with a Child’s Bipolar Disorder and Childproofing Your Home (pattidudek.typepad.com)
- Bipolar Disorder: Woman’s Battle, Misunderstood Stigma (prweb.com)
Wholeheartedly agree with this. Carry and try to help me solve the messed up issues I have, but don’t smother. That’s when my staring competitions go on with my therapists, counselors, and doctors.
I haven’t had therapy in a while. One therapist would get my money for 50 minutes of silence. He was awesome (snark). Then the one who was really freaking good I only had 3 sessions with because he was $197 a session. I think I don’t know how to make therapy work for me so I don’t do it. Luckily, I have not been diagnosed with a personality disorder (yet) where it’s actually required for treatment. I’d fail. lol But your staring sessions make me laugh because I can SO relate.
My therapy: music that matches my mood. Some of it is more like noise pollution than music.
I agree. The Rape counselor is the one that I benefit from the most, where I don’t have staring contests. Though trying to get past some of phobias lead to some interesting discussions with the one therapist. He has been called Howard for his exact replication in appearance of Howard Walowitz from Big Bang Theory. I admitted from the start I dont like to talk, but living in a city of bridges is hindering my life as I’m always afraid they’re going to spew me over the edge. He was always trying to get me to talk. So I described what it was like to try and find a way around, which you couldn’t, then to stopping in the middle of rush hour traffic to have a panic attack, get out and start yelling at my car for it to cause me to drive on a bridge. Then I’d make up things and see what he said. That was always fun. But to get my medications, I had to see him.
Hi there, I have nothing but respect for you and this post… isn’t that what we ALL want, compassion without babying ?! I would lose my $#*& if a healthcare professional treated me in a smothering, mothering way. =) I love your blog because you always take the bull by the horns, you are AWESOME !! BTW, have you talked to your DR about the throat burn ? I was in Pharma for years, and that sounds like it could be an allergic reaction… whoops, there goes my mumma gene, kicking in ! Thanks again for the insight, enjoy your music !!!!!!!! =)
Don’t worry babe, I’ve been thinking about this a lot – I was going to blog today and try to clear the air and correct myself for some of misunderstanding I made. You have every right to be upset with me. I’m sorry you’re so upset by it. Most of all, I’m sorry that I’ve upset you. Can you forgive me?
I think the issue is more about me and how my life is falling apart right now. In an effort to figure out why it’s affecting me so badly, I’ve been unfair in my characterizations and I’ve been unclear in my use of language. You are absolutely right on many many things: I am not cut out for this job. Mental health deserves people who can give the care and attention that is needed (and not as a mother, but as a health professional). And, most importantly, people who suffer from conditions of mental health are people too. I know that, I really do. I have a history suggestive of unipolar depression – I’ve been on the medications before. And I’m willing to bet that I’ve now got a generalized anxiety disorder. I hated being depressed and I hated having to deal with it. People like you and my sister amaze me every day because despite the challenges with your conditions, you still get up every day and face the world, and you do it with flying colours.
All week I have been with a resident who is not very good at his job – he wasn’t great with the patients and then he was even worse when it came to talking about them behind closed doors. I know that is no excuse for me to talk badly about my experiences. LIfe was hard for me this week. It literally made me sick. And let’s face it, I like the idea of dealing with pregnant ladies, because babies aside, they are relatively healthy, their treatments are usually pretty cut and dry, and they have high compliance rates… It’s kind of a cop out in medicine.
Babe, I learn something from you all time time! You teach me a lot about myself and I am so thankful. I really hope you can forgive me. I promise, I’ll try to be more sensitive in the future.
Cranky G, you are amazing. I saw that you liked my latest post and I had a freak out so I started flipping back to previous posts to see how often you liked a post of mine and for the last few you haven’t like so I breathed a sigh of relief thinking, ‘oh good, she may have missed the one…’ and just before I could finish my string of thoughts on the relief I was feeling, my notification goes orange and your name has a dot next to it with the post I’d hoped you missed next to you. I stopped breathing thinking maybe I caused more of an issue from it and I really care a lot about you and don’t want to mess up our friendship. I am sincerely sorry that I became sensitive to your words being fully aware of how your week was going. I know the stress of medicine because I watch it every week on Grey’s Anatomy. Total expert here.
My sister and I are not so close and I think I took it really personal because you said sister instead of brother or something. That is my fault, not yours in any way. I want you to be honest and say what you want to say how you want to say it. I was afraid to directly approach you because I fear unnecessary confrontation, I don’t like to start shit so I figured I’d just let a little of my feelings out on it here and I am relieved to see that you didn’t take it personal, or at least you’re not showing you have. I thought I was going to be dodging bullets, like Neo in The Matrix.
I find it funny you think Obstetrics and Gynecology (or are you just going to be an obstetrician?) are a cop out in medicine. I can just imagine nervous mothers to be rushing you to the hospital at 2 in the morning for a case of the braxton hicks, or maybe the hospital figures that out before they page you. Or the moms in the office that set you behind schedule because they are hormonal and crying needing you to console them. Or having to inform a trying couple that at 20 weeks their baby has a heart defect or at any week that they are miscarrying. You know all this, I know. I am just saying in my little messed up way that there is no way Obstetrics is a cop out in medicine. I think it is very, very important and I admire you for going for it.
Thank you for being so congenial to my sensitivities, I’ll try to rein them in a little better.