In my last article I wrote about creating reasonable expectations for the holidays and how that can help your mental health. Today, I want to talk about the stress of holidays with family. Now, don’t get me wrong, family can be great, but more often than not, holidays cause a gathering of family members you both gel with and those you don’t and I hear from a lot of people that they hate such family gatherings. But why? Are family gatherings worse for people with a mental illness?

There are some truly wonderful people out there who are loved ones of people with mental illnesses. These people want to help their loved ones with mental illnesses and many of them read this blog in an effort to understand what it’s like to have a mental illness and how they can help. It’s a beautiful thing. So if you’re the loved one of a person with a mental illness, here are some things you might want to think about during the holidays.

You’d let them take an ice pick to your brain if you thought it would help. Bipolar disorder impacts different people differently. For some people, bipolar disorder is immanently treatable. These people find doctors, therapy and medication and walk off into the sunset with few bipolar symptoms left with which to contend. These people lead the same lives as everyone else and besides (likely) controlling certain lifestyle factor that contribute to stability, they don’t have to think about bipolar disorder on a daily basis. Then there are the people who are more affected by the illness. These are people for whom treatment partially works. They likely find doctors, therapy and medication too, but in spite of best efforts, they live with bipolar symptoms every day. These people might live your ordinary life or might live a life that is more affected by the illness, such as one where they can only work part-time. And then there are the people that are severely affected by bipolar. Even with treatment these people tend to have intractable moods and likely can’t work because of them. These people do not live average lives. They live lives dictated by the illness and the treatment. These people are in pain every day. And it’s only chance that places you in one of those three groups.

As I’ve mentioned, recently I’ve started volunteering for a local bipolar organization and what I do is give presentations to others. One part of the presentation is my “bipolar story.” It’s the story of my life before diagnosis, the process of treatment and whatnot. It’s long and, well, not that happy. But one of the things that stands out is that treatments have turned me around, but then they stopped working and new treatments had to be found. And these new treatments were extremely hard to find. In fact, successful treatments have been found through guessing as often as through any type of clinical judgement. And there’s a reason for this: bipolar disorder and bipolar disorder treatment are moving targets and our responses have to move with them.

Ah, the human brain. It’s a wondrous thing. It calculates, it categorizes, it makes connections and it remembers the square root of 144. I’m constantly awed by its power. But one of the annoying things that can happen to a brain is that somehow, a song gets stuck in it. Somehow, even though its great power and ability, the catchy hook of the latest pop song gets stuck inside some errant neurons and plays over and over. And this causes a lot more trouble in my bipolar brain than it does for others.

It should surprise no one that I consider mental healthcare an essential service for people. Now, I live in Canada and this means that I can get the care I need without paying for it, but people in the United States are not so lucky. I have to constantly hear about people who can’t get the care they need because of the limits placed on them by insurance companies. And this is wrong. Mental healthcare is as essential as any other kind of healthcare. If you have a broken leg, you expect treatment, and if you have a broken brain, you should expect the same thing.

One of the problems with psychotherapy (and, keep in mind, I like psychotherapy) is that psychotherapists try to look for a cause for every emotion. And this seems reasonable. Or at least it does, to a person without a mental illness.

One of the things that is so debilitating about a chronic, long-term mental illness is that it is so relentless. Day in and day out you face the challenges it brings. On your birthday, it’s there. On Christmas, it’s there. On Arbor Day, it’s there. And no matter how you’re feeling and what’s happening in your life, you have to deal with it. Mental illness isn’t the kind of thing that you can push “pause” on. Mental illness doesn’t wait for later. Mental illness is like a 2-year-old. It wants you now, now, now, now and if it can’t have you, then heck hath no fury like a two-year-old ignored. But I swear, I could be a better crazy person if I could just get a break once in a while. If I could just get all the nuttiness in my head to shut up for a while I swear I could get on with things like work, and taxes and cleaning and the gym. But the nuttiness in my head will not be quelled and this, I think, is one of the hardest things about mental illness.

We all have good things happen in our lives. It might be marriage, a child, a new job or a stunning new hair color. All these things are good, but all these things are also changes. Good changes, but changes nonetheless. And as someone once said, “change is bad.”

I’ve been writing about bipolar disorder and mental illness for nine years. Nine long years of pain and depression and episodes and hyperreality and desperation and description and explanation and exploration. And people still don’t get it. Even if you look at the past year – over 200 articles, there still seems to be nothing but a chasm between the mentally ill and so many of the mentally well. And I think this is because language is insufficient to express emotional pain and turmoil. We have good words for describing physical pain: radiating, hot, throbbing, sharp, achy and so on. But when it comes to emotional pain we’re “sad.” The same word applies when you drop your ice cream cone on the ground as when you’re so depressed that you can’t get out of bed. It’s not surprising that people don’t get what we’re talking about.