Don’t Call Me Crazy, I’m Bipolar.

Guest blogger: Victoria Tate

I like my bar taps perfectly aligned. Does that make me OCD?

I day dream a lot and sometimes have fantasies. Does that make me schizophrenic?

Sometimes I have really bad mood swings . Does that mean I’m bipolar?

The answer, at least from anyone with a brain, should be a resounding NO. Based clearly on those statements, it sounds as if you are just a human expressing human things. The problem is, however, that many of those of us suffering from mental illness are taking major offense at using these terms as an adjective to describe something negative.

People are often insensitive about the different kinds of disabilities others live with. When I was a teenager I remember asking people if they were deaf or blind because they didn’t hear me or see something I was trying to point out to them. I no longer do this anymore as an adult because I don’t want to come off as offensive. I recently read an article that expressed how people casually use terms associated with mental illness to describe other things, and how we need to stop doing this.

I respect that author’s perspective, but I think we are all just getting our panties in a wad over something that really shouldn’t be such a big deal.

Here’s the thing, people with mental illnesses are fighting to be acknowledged. I fight with my insurance every month to pay for the medication that keeps me sane. People who suffer from debilitating mental illness and cannot work often struggle for years to gain disability and receive the financial assistance they need to live. Most aren’t going to argue that someone suffering from a chronic long term physical illness needs help.

We also compete with a stigma; a stigma that those with mental illnesses should be able to “snap out of it” and while illnesses such as major depressive disorder are often compared to chronic general medical illnesses such as diabetes (as in the illness isn’t going anywhere), there is still a large part of the population that believes that mental illness is something we can “will” ourselves over. Not only is this unfortunate, it creates a hostile environment for those suffering because they feel like they’re doing it to themselves.

However, I didn’t write this article to talk about overcoming stigmas or fighting for understanding within our communities.

I wrote this article because I am fighting for a completely different cause. I am fighting for humor.

I am fighting for a sense of normalcy, for an opportunity to laugh instead of cry. I am fighting for a chance to prove to the people out there that we aren’t their stereotypical “crazy.” I am fighting for laughter, I am fighting for those of carrying such a heavy burden to let the burden of being offended slip off our backs. I am fighting for us to have the same acceptance of “regular” people as we want them to us.

In my opinion, we are picking fights where we shouldn’t. We aren’t allowing ourselves to enjoy the simple things, such as conversation. We are spending too much time fighting with our own demons and fighting for acceptance that we fail to accept perhaps the most healing thing of all: humor. When somebody says that they are a bit OCD because they like things orderly, they aren’t saying it to take a jab at those who suffer. And when a friend tells me a book is depressing , I don’t look at them and scream, “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT DEPRESSING IS!” Because they didn’t use that word to minimize my suffering or to hurt my feelings. If anything, using these terms describes at least the smallest of understanding. Understanding that depression brings sadness, or that that being schizophrenic means you hear voices. In their own small way they are relating with us. It is not meant to be insulting.

I believe, sincerely, that if you can’t laugh you have no hope. I believe we all waste a lot of time taking things personally that aren’t meant to be. I believe I do suffer from depression that can very well affect me for the rest of my life. I also believe that my friend might have been depressed when she read that book she gave me. If anything, I believe she at least felt she was.

Part of dealing with mental illness is trying to express that we have the capacity to be empathetic, to show our intelligence and our wisdom; to enjoy the small and beautiful things about life and ignore the small and annoying.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

-Elizabeth Price

Published March 19, 2015

http://www.victoria-tate.com/2015/03/dont-call-me-crazy-im-bipolar/

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