Try these words on: Mental illness, mentally ill, relapse,  psychiatry, psychiatrist, psychotropic medication, anti-psychotics, mania, depression, social isolation, side-effects, sickness, disease. How do these words feel applied to you as a person with a mental illness? I can tell you how they make me feel:  Awful, stigmatized, labeled. They make you feel alien. They make you feel alone. Unique in your illness. You might feel like you are the the brisk notes your psychiatrist jots down as you talk to her. You might wonder if those words, scribbled with medical jargon, define you as a person

Being a mental health patient requires patience. Eternal, frustrating patience. When you have a mental illness a few weeks feels like a few years. A decade. A mental health patient's degree of patience is the difference between suffering and relief. Living in patience peacefully is the key to mental health recovery.

I touched on the idea that labels are intrinsically different than stigma in Removing The Labels of Mental Illness. I believe that. Mental illness is, at its core, attached to stigma. Although mental health stigma is weaker than it once was, stigma is damaging nonetheless. But first, let's examine the connection between stigmatizing mental illness and labeling it.

I touched on reconciling with relapse in my post, Flashbacks and The Fear of Relapse, but there is a lot more to mental health recovery than a single post can cover. An entire book spanning thousands of pages cannot describe the fear associated with relapse. Reconciling with the possibility of mental illness relapse is a difficult task.

Recovering from a serious mental illness can seem impossible, insurmountable at times, and frightening as well.  Because I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at the age of twelve, drugs and alcohol became a way in which I worked to forget about the diagnosis and self-medicate it.

When I was first diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, despite my young age, I was told that I would need to take medication. Probably for the rest of my life. I wondered, as many people do, if medication would change me. Sure, I was told it would make me well and make my life easier, but I was not sure what that really meant. Would I still be me?

When you are in the process of recovering from a chronic mental illness, when you have achieved a state of remission and are free from psychiatric symptoms, you will never forget the impact, the memories, of when you were sick. The flashbacks.

Mental illness is chronic in nature. It is, by its very definition, a disease. I, like many other people who struggle with mental illness, have a hard time digesting and accepting the words chronic and disease. A person with a disease is sick. A person with a chronic disease is consistently sick. Does Having a Chronic Mental Illness Mean That I am Sick? Yes, and no. An example: if you have bipolar disorder you have a chronic illness but if you are in recovery, the mental illness is in remission. You are then considered well; the illness remains but you are free of symptoms or they are drastically reduced.

The word recovery is often socially defined as the achievement of health after a period of illness. Recovery is thought to be consistent and often connected to a physical illness. Recovery, when connected to a chronic mental illness, is different; the word itself holds more weight. The process from sickness to health is not absolute in nature. It is transient, and can change with the seasons or be triggered by life events.