On Monday, I wrote about the Faces of Mental Illness campaign run by the Canadian Alliance on Mental Illness and Mental Health. This campaign is part of the Mental Illness Awareness Week which is this week in Canada (next week in the U.S.). I like this campaign, and what’s more, given by the number of people who have read and shared the article, you like it too. People like hearing from other real people who have faced real mental illnesses and come out the other side to create whole and satisfying lives for themselves. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. People find it helpful and hopeful and inspiring. But the campaign leaves out a huge segment of the mentally ill population. Where is the celebration of those who fight every day to beat their mental illness but don’t become published authors or start a non-profit?

This week is Mental Illness Awareness Week in Canada. (Mental Illness Awareness Week in the U.S. starts next week. Why the two countries couldn’t get together on this I’ll never know.) And in honour of this week, I thought I would feature the Mental Illness Awareness Week’s campaign – the Faces of Mental Illness. The Faces of Mental Illness Focuses on real people with real mental illnesses who have faced the worst and still found recovery. If you’re looking for some hope, these are the people who will give it to you.

One of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard is of doctors not giving their patients their diagnoses. That’s right – the patient sees the doctor, the doctor does a full assessment, the doctor reaches a conclusion, but keeps it a big secret like an upcoming birthday party. This is an example of parental doctoring and completely insults the patient.

Treatment for bipolar can be a beast. You try medication after medication after therapy after cocktail after doctor and so on. It’s exhausting. And at some point you stop. You just stop. Maybe some of your symptoms are controlled but not others. Maybe your symptoms are only partially controlled. Maybe you’re just too tired to fill another prescription. I understand, really. And this stopping can persist for weeks, months or even years. But the thing is, if you change nothing, then nothing will ever change.

What made you seek help for mental illness? Your answer could help people who love someone with mental illness because one of the questions I get more than any other is asked by loved ones. In short, people want to know how to help their loved ones get help for a mental illness. Some people want to know how to make their loved ones accept treatment. Some people want to know how to make their loved ones follow through with treatment, like take their medication. And some people just want to know how to convince someone that they have a mental illness. I’m dealing with people who love someone with a mental illness who is refusing help, for one reason or another. So I ask you – what made you get help for your mental illness?

Sometimes, probably due to my particular experiences online, I think that people will never understand mental illness. There are people who think that mental illness isn’t real; there are people that think that medication is poison; there are people that think mental illness is “all in our heads’” there are people that think that those with mental illness just have to “pull themselves up by their bootstraps.” In short, sometimes it feels like there are so many uncompassionate, ignorant, hateful people that all the writing in the world won’t make a difference. But the thing is, my experiences aren’t necessarily indicative of the real world. And yesterday’s brunch proved that to me.

Bipolar disorder has an approximate prevalence in society of 1% and obsessive-compulsive disorder has an approximate lifetime prevalence of 2.5%. When you put those two numbers together, you should have a very small population that has both bipolar disorder and obsessive-compulsive disorder. However, this turns out not to be the case. Actually, according to a recent study, 50% of people with obsessive-compulsive disorder also have a depressive disorder and 10% have bipolar disorder. In short, if you happen to have both disorders, you’re not alone.

Recently, one of my search referral logs revealed the question, “Can I Become a Doctor if I Have Attempted Suicide?” This is a very specific question and I’m afraid I don’t have the technical answer to it on my site. But the question itself saddened me. Mostly because someone would think that they couldn’t become a doctor just because of a suicide attempt. A suicide attempt should neither limit how people see you nor how you see yourself.

We’ve all heard it – the condescending notion that bipolar disorder, depression or another mental illness is “all in our heads.” This is the notion that we are not ill and that we simply think we are ill. If we stopped believing we had a mental illness, we would stop having one. Naturally, this is hogwash. But science and medicine can’t seem to convince people out of this illogical notion (Denial Keeps Those with a Mental Illness From Getting Better). I think that’s because people have their own psychological reasons for wanting to believe that mental illness is “all in our heads.” Mostly, it’s fear.

Recently a friend queried me on addiction. Specifically, would I consider addiction to be like any other serious mental illness? After all, it harms people. It helps people end up on the street. It destroys people’s lives. It sure sounds serious. But, on the other hand, addicts are a special bunch in that their behavior caused their illness. No one made them take that first drink. No one made them snort that first line. No one made them take that first hit. They did that all on their own, and eventually, that decision spiralled into an illness. But people with mental illness like schizophrenia or bipolar disorder get there without any hitting, drinking or snorting of any kind. Their mental illness hits them spontaneously. So the question is, is addiction just another mental illness?