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In 2008, the passage of the Paul Wellstone and Pete Domenici Mental Healthy Parity and Addiction Act was a huge and historic story. It was a 12 year fight by mental health advocates and championed by the late Minnesota Sen. Paul Wellstone. The parity act was passed in order to require insurance companies to treat mental health on an equal basis with physical illnesses, when policies covered both. Wellstone’s son had championed for years on behalf of his father after Wellstone’s death from a plane crash in 2002.
Philip K Dick, one of the world’s greatest science fiction writers, unquestionably had periods during his lifetime that he had great difficulty determining reality. At one point he had even been diagnosed with schizophrenia. Today it is debated as to his exact condition, but what it is known is that he used his mental issues as a positive force in his writing.
I am not an expert on Philip Dick, but I can easily see how my illness, schizophrenia, can be used as a positive force in writing. The illness itself has a way of trapping you in an alternate universe, with strange plots and villains dancing about. One only needs to transfer these places and enemies onto paper, in order to write interesting stories.
December is, and always has been, a difficult month for Bob. It's tough for him to wake up in the morning, and hard for him to get to sleep at night. He "thinks too much" (in his words), and often finds himself getting sad and teary-eyed. And his schoolwork? Don't even ask.
I've known Bob's mood takes a downturn in late Fall for a few years now. This year, it appearshe recognizes this aspect of his bipolar disorder diagnosis, as well.
There are about as many men with bipolar disorder as there are women. But is living with bipolar disorder essentially the same for men as it is for women? And what about the relationship between race and mental illness? Though the illness is the same, gender and race may shape life with bipolar disorder in profound ways that most of us have never even considered.
If there's anything I know about parenting, it is this: Parenting is the single most humbling experience you can have. You make plans for this child you have helped to "create", and life simply has other things in mind for him or her.
Oh, yes, you are a big part of the child's journey - but in full control? To paraphrase comedienne/author Julia Sweeney's excellent book: God Says, Ha!!
The best-laid plans are only that: plans. Want your kid to be President? (yikes, who would want that?!?!) He or she had better want that too - and have the gifts to go along with the desire.
A few years after Ben was diagnosed with schizophrenia, a friend sent me to a "psychic astrologist" I'll call Zena.Don't laugh. I was freshly unemployed after years of radio broadcasting, still getting used to the changes that my son's schizophrenia had brought to our family, and in the process of looking for an agent and publisher for my book about it, Ben Behind His Voices.
And, also, why not? I had gotten advice from worse places, believe me.
I have a confession to make--I'm not feeling the Christmas Spirit.
This is especially disconcerting because my diagnosis of borderline personality disorder tells me I "should" feel a certain way. I should be happy, generous, loving, especially kind to people I've never met or don't like. I should buy gifts for everyone dear to me. I should single-handedly bail the post office out of bankruptcy by sending Christmas cards.
But I don't, and I don't really care who knows it. To be honest, I feel like Beck-anezer Scrooge--Bah, Humbug! And that's okay.
Recently, someone who was new to the world of bipolar disorder asked me if there was a cure for bipolar disorder or if he had to live like this forever. I had to, of course, tell him there is no cure. I felt like I was telling him his dog was about to die. I felt like knowing this, he might give up.
It would be lovely if the diagnosis of mental illness came with a prescription for recovery that was given to all of us. Diagnosed with bipolar disorder? take this pill, you will be fine. You will be recovered! That would be nice, perfect, what a fantastic dream! Then you wake up. You take your medication. That's the reality.
Recovery is different for all of this: treatment is never the same. Some of us, once diagnosed and treated, experience no symptoms of all. On the flip side, some of us struggle on a day to day basis.
Holiday gift giving is stressful enough, but shopping for the mentally ill presents an additional layer of challenges. Your friends at Funny In The Head are here to assist, with thoughtful tips that will help you navigate these emotionally demanding situations. Just think of us as an online elf-help group.
As a victim of abuse, my abuser held me to an impossible standard: "Be the perfect woman in my eyes."
Whenever I did not think or behave the way his perfect woman did, then I suffered the consequences (abusive anger, name-calling, intimidation, etc.). In his eyes, my goal in life should be to become the woman he wanted me to be...flawless in his eyes. His perfect idealization left no room to be human, let alone myself!
Please...Knock Me Off That Pedestal
He often told me that he held me up on a pedestal, above all other women, and when I fell off that pedestal, he became angry. This explanation was meant to excuse his poor behavior; it was not an apology.
Where do we go from here? Most of the family thinks just to let her hit bottom and then if she reaches out to help any we can. Some want to just keep paying her bills and just let her sit in the house with no responsibilities. Never been on medication and impossible to get to her when she refuses to talk to ANYONE.
Help.
On the day we agreed to videochat to make things less awkward IRL she woke up with a migraine so we rescheduled to the day after, I made sure to assure her that it was okay and to take her time. Later that day, in the late evening we had a nice chat but suddenly she stopped replying, even though nothing had happened. The day after I texted her good morning and said I hope she was feeling a little better. she wouldn't open my texts.
A couple days after I sent her a longer text saying that even though I had only known her for a short time I care a lot for her and would like to know how she are doing, telling her I'm there for her, assuring her I'm not going anywhere even though things might not be very easy. She wouldn't open it.
A week later I sent a text saying not to feel bad about not answering and that I will be there when she is able to answer again. It's been two weeks since this and she still hasn't opened my texts. She hasn't been active at all.
I don't know what else I can do. I assumed she might have fallen into a depression. I have tried to just not think about it anymore, and I haven't that much but when I do it sort of kills me inside...