I fail at blogging. It has been way too damn long since I have posted anything substantial. My excuse is the same that it’s been in the last posts, so I don’t see the need to give it again. Just know that I have been thinking daily about posting something, but my brain has been void of any ideas. My husband has some time off work coming up, so my hope is that my “relationship advice” post will be up within the week.
Contrary to what my lack of posting says, this blog means a lot to me. It’s like my small little “YOPP!” to the world.
Those of us that live with mental illness, in one way or another, become accustomed to it. There’s no question in our minds that mental illness is an illness like any other. It’s just as unwanted, debilitating, and unprovoked, and requires medical care as many other diseases. However, stepping outside the circle of people you’ve surrounded yourself with that “get it” (as best as they can) can result in a giant slap across the face. This happened to me yesterday, while reading some very praised and very offensive material on the internet. It’s just a reminder that I’m not fighting a fought war. The hurtful ignorance surrounding mental illness is huge. Things that sound immensely fucked up to me sound like great advice or wisdom to others. I want to be apart of changing that, in any way that I can. I believe I can do something. It’s hard to not to feel small and insignificant in such an uphill battle. But I refuse to let that get to me; I’m only 21. I have so much life ahead of me to step out, speak up, share my story, and make people listen.
Obviously, five voices together are louder than one. And 50 is even louder. And 200. And 10,000. If you feel led in any way to speak out, do it. Don’t wait until it’s easier or more comfortable; it’s not going to happen. When I first opened up about having bipolar disorder, it was really awkward and uncomfortable for me. I had to force myself out my comfort zone in order to eventually become comfortable with it. Even now, I still sometimes struggle with it, but I’m continually fighting that shame. I won’t let uninformed, ignorant, and offensive opinions and ideas dictate how I treat myself. My point being, it’s not always easy to take that first step into talking about it. In fact, it can be terrifying. But it’s so important. Awareness will save lives. So many people don’t get the help that they so desperately need because they are ashamed. Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the United States. It’s the third leading cause of death in people ages 15-24. More than 90% of people who commit suicide suffer from mental illnesses and/or substance abuse. Untreated depression is the number one cause for suicide. I strongly believe that these numbers could drop significantly if we lived in a culture that treated mental illness like any other medical condition. Not as a weakness, an emotional issue, or something that can be cured by a change in thinking or self-help book. And I will spend my entire life fighting against those misconceptions. Millions of people in this country have been diagnosed with a mental illness, and even more love and care about people with mental illnesses. If everyone stepped out of their comfort zone and talked about it, we could change things.
Well, okay. I didn’t intend on saying any of that. This is why I love having a blog. I start writing a “sorry for sucking at blogging” post and it turns into a recruit message for stigma-stomping soldiers.
As I was rereading this, I realized that I said something that could be perceived as offensive, and is definitely incorrect. I was coming from my own perspective, and I inadvertently projected my experience on all people with a mental illness. Not cool at all; I sincerely apologize. I’m referring to my statement that those of us with a mental illness become accustomed to it, and that there is no question that it’s an illness like any other. That is not true, and in fact contradicts what I am saying and believe. There are many, many people suffering from depression or other mental illnesses that don’t understand what is wrong with them. That think they should be able to handle it on their own. That are so confused as to why they are suffering so greatly for seemingly no reason. It was completely inappropriate for me to say that. I really am sorry.
Don't Tell Me To Cheer Up 