I feel “dirty” when I write about my bad times with my mental illness – like I have something contagious and should be avoided. The stigma is palpable. I am shy as to what to write today feeling like a child whose peers are laughing at him. I feel like a fool and feel embarrassed as well. At least, these “episodes” happen more and more infrequently. You never know what kind of curve ball life can throw at you at times. I can’t get out of my head that I wrote Tracy got scared. I don’t want the most important person in my life scared of me.
I just have arrived home from my father’s house. Thankfully, he wasn’t drinking tonight. We sat and listened to NPR while we drank sodas. We talked about what happened some.
“An episode like that would put you in the hospital for a week in the old days,” my father told me. “You get better and better at recognizing the signs and getting help. You also didn’t panic and do something stupid.”
He told me I handled the whole situation with grace and aplomb. That made me feel a lot better about myself this evening. I also told Tracy that we needed to set up a contingency plan for when that happens again like a big, whopping 4 or 5 mg dose of Risperdal in the morning and in the evening. I told her I would call my doctor tomorrow and get the ball rolling.
2 comments:
There's nothing dirty about mental illness. You wouldn't feel dirty about being diabetic, so why feel ashamed of this? It isn't as if you're making it happen! Everybody has something going on, whether it's depression, OCD, bipolar, etc. Your Dad is right, be proud of the level of self-awareness you've reached and how pro-active you're being. That's excellent.
- Sharon -
Nothing to be ashamed of you did fabulously dealing with it. I love that you have people to gather round you and help.
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