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Visit any preschool in America today, and the message is universal--be nice to everyone. Unfortunately, that sentiment seems limited to the 5 and under scene. Mental illness stigma, and the hate of anyone too different is a lesson learned earlier than parents like to believe. I shouldn't have to teach my child about mental illness stigma. But I do.
Normally I try to grab the reader's attention in the first few lines of the piece so that you'll want to read the rest. Something snappy, touching or pithy. Normally I try to make sure it's an interesting subject. Usually I try to provide some sort of universal appeal to the piece or at least a good quip.
But today, quite frankly, I'm talking about me.
One of the most persistent myths about dissociative identity disorder (DID) is that people with it are schizophrenic. Schizophrenia and DID are generally considered synonymous with each other when, in fact, they're two entirely different disorders. There's no relationship between dissociative identity disorder (formerly known as multiple personality disorder) and schizophrenia at all. People more educated than I could write entire books about the differences between these two chronically misunderstood disorders. I focus on what I see as the dead giveaway: the issue of identity.
Our society places a high value on making money and our work. With depression or bipolar, one can be made to feel like a failure. You can feel worthless and ashamed at your inability to work. You can feel terribly ashamed when through a manic or depressive phase and you realized you have spent thousands of dollars. If you have set up a safety net
For over 15 years, Heather Levin struggled with Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), a type of depression that strikes mainly during the winter months. To help, Heather developed a list of reliable, inexpensive strategies for treatment of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD).
In an email conversation I had last week with someone who also has Dissociative Identity Disorder, the issue of hospitalization came up. I was impressed by this person's pro-active perspective. He appeared to accept the fact that inpatient stays are sometimes a part of the recovery process. Historically, my attitude has been much different. But I've decided his forward-thinking approach is healthier.
The fear's on different floors, locked in boxes, scattered in the places, worn out spaces I don't go. And if that's true, if it's everywhere and nowhere and exactly right here, where I don't want to look - then it's probably a big thing. Bigger than me. Maybe bigger than I should mess with:
But I want to understand.
Don't you?
Let me just come right out and say it: psychiatric medications suck. They just do. Waking up every morning with your first thought to choking down brightly-colored circles, ovals and squares is a bad way to start the day. Similarly, having your last act at night be downing medication to induce what used to be the natural process of sleep is equally unfortunate.
But psychiatric medications are a reality for people with a mental illness. They are important. In fact, for many of us, without them we would have no chance at a life at all.
So if we admit we hate them, but admit we have to take them, how does one manage to stay on psychiatric medications?
If you have Dissociative Identity Disorder you've probably been instructed at least once to create a map of your system. A system map, I've been told, is essentially a recording on paper of alters' names, ages, and roles - arranged according to where they are in relationship to each other. I've never successfully completed one. If that were the only definition of a system map, I likely never would.
I posted this on my personal blog on 11/09/06. Bob had been 5 only a few short weeks. We were deep in custody litigation and still 18 months away from a real diagnosis. As you can tell from these paragraphs, I was nearing the end of my rope.
My point being, I'm right there with you. I hate the rollercoaster. I just want to live life without being in a state of constant fight or flight mode, only for his character to change and de-escalate and I fall for the person I fell for all over again.
Exhausting is a horrible word. The understatement of all understatements, if you will.
I wish there were better support groups for this kind of mental health condition.