My fear of being found out at work has passed. I don't want them to know I have bipolar disorder for many reasons, but the main reason I don't want them to know is that I'm afraid they will fire me if they find out.
I'm sort of kind of covered under the ADA, but not really -- mental illness doesn't get the type of protection other disabilities do. I'm not sure how I feel about that, maybe because I'm not so sure how I feel about being disabled. I mean, am I truly disabled? I'm not willing to go there today, so maybe I'll write about it later.
Today I want to write about emotions. One of the problems I have is that I don't know when my emotions are true. That's not to say that they aren't real -- they are always real as I experience them, but one of the problems with mood disorders is you wonder if you are truly feeling joy or are you manic. Are you just plain old sad or are you depressed?
There are psychological "tests" I guess you could call them, checklists where professionals determine if your mood has gone to one of the poles, but in my day-to-day life, I often wonder if the loneliness I feel is just plain old loneliness or something more.
Today I am lonely. I feel utterly alone. I know I'm not alone: I have a son who loves me dearly. I have a handful of friends. My parents love me. But today I yearn for something more. I yearn for a loving partner who will accept me in all my bipolar glory. Someone I can love in return and comfort and express the scary things that live in the deepest parts of my mind.
My mind scares me. It has betrayed me. In some ways I might be a smart person, capable and kind, but in other ways I'm a victim of paralyzing anxiety and fear. And I know, I know that there is nothing to fear; I know that the anxiety is unwarranted. I understand that I'm suffering from PTSD and other issues due to organic chemical processes and traumatic experiences, but knowing doesn't stop the fear.
I've recently tried meditating. It helps, but I have to force myself to relax and allow myself to be led through meditation. Medication helps, but it also makes me loopy, and part of me hates that I rely so much on the meds.
Yes, mental illness is, to use an overused comparison, like diabetes. You have it, and it's treatable, and it's value neutral and you learn to live with it. But mental illness is not like diabetes in that the stigma is not the same. I suppose there is a stigma attached to Type II diabetes, the kind you might get if you're overweight, and the kind that might resolve if you get in better shape. We don't have much love or compassion for overweight people in this society. And, well, being crazy isn't a great thing either.
Yesterday, in a room of people, a young woman admitted to me that she's on Lexapro. Part of me wanted to comfort her and say, "Honey, I've been on Lexapro and Effexor and Wellbutrin and soon I'll be on Prozac when I can afford to have my prescription filled." But I didn't. I didn't want to out myself.
I'm sure that I don't hide the lunacy as well as I think I do, but it was missed for so long, and I did relatively well in school and at my job that I think I managed to hoodwink many. And all along I knew that there was something wrong with me -- that I am different in some fundamental way.
So, today I am sad about all of this, and I don't have anyone to tell. My mother thinks that God and prayer are the answers to my loneliness, and my father just doesn't get it. He's old and tired and cranky, and I'm afraid that if I tell him how lonely I am, he'll get annoyed or, worse, reject me. So I'm telling you.
7 comments:
As far as BD goes, I only tell people whom I trust or I absolutely need to.
I know the feeling about being alone, but personally, for as much as I just want someone to cuddle on this cold fall night down here, I worry about acceptance. And I worry that I won't be much of a great partner, either.
Don't be ashamed of telling people about your feelings. Are there some sort of support groups around? I know that may sound trite, but it might help.
And of course, you have us as your sounding board.
You have others here, hon. Sending you big hugs and karma.
And they're not going to find you out at work. Don't worry about that.
Yes, acceptance is key -- I think it's what all people, sane and not so much, hope to find. And I'm not so sure I'd make a good partner for anyone either. I mean, who would want to deal with me? I mean that in the least self-deprecating way. I am a handful.
Support groups -- yeah, one meets nearby on Mondays, but I've never gone. I meant to, and then I kind of forgot about it. Thanks for reminding me, and I think I'll give it a shot next week.
SFL: You are the best cheerleader ever. Yeah, I don't think they're going to find out, but along with the fear and anxiety comes a small dose of paranoia at times. I so much want to tell people about BD and what it's like and to kind of help kill the stigma, but I'm afraid. But I'd love to be myself and say, "Hey -- I'm having a rough day today because my mood is out of whack." And recently I've found myself pretty angry all the time. That's no good. I think I'm frustrated more than angry, but it comes out as hostility. Ugh.
@JNOV: It is a dilemma and I understand wanting to dissipate the stigma but at the same time having fears. I have a (for the most part hidden) physical disability which nobody at my office knew about (I was afraid I wouldn't get hired or would get kicked off insurance) until I had to take a leave of absence for a major surgery. It was very hard for me to tell friends, family, and colleagues what was going on. I lost a few friends who told me that they "couldn't handle it" when I was in the hospital and in recovery, and refused to visit me or contact me...despite my being there for them during bad times. My sister refused to acknowledge what was going on, let alone even contact me in the months before my operation to wish me well. So yeah, there is the worry that people will reject you when they find out what is going on, on the other hand after my experience I wonder if they were ever worth knowing in the first place. They certainly showed their true character to me.
Talk to somebody about the anger and frustration. You don't want it to build up and explode. Rant here if nothing else.
@SFL: I'm sorry. What? You're having the major surgery and they couldn't handle it? That makes me stabby, and I am so so sorry, SFL.
So much of life is navigating a minefield of others' reactions to who we are, and not only is it tiring but it's also without purpose.
I think part of the issue is that we are very judgmental, and the other part is that we are afraid. The judgmental part is learned, and maybe some fear is innate, I don't know.
Please know that I love you no matter what.
SFL: "Couldn't handle it?" That's not much of a friend. I define a friend as someone who is by your side regardless, but ESPECIALLY when you're sick. Or when you're hurting. Or when your house burns down (had a dear couple of friends whose house burned down Dec 07; out of a large group of so-called friends, very very vew tried to help). And family? Good lord.
JNOV, all, thanks for your visits and holiday wishes! I hope very one has a good holiday.
Post a Comment