That bitch is craaaaaaaaazy!
When I first got diagnosed with Bipolar 2 I was two things at the same time: relieved to have a diagnoses and embarrassed of said diagnoses. I always knew that there was something wrong with me .. wrong is a dirty word. Let me try again. I always knew that there was something different about me. I had no verbiage for it yet so to hear “Bipolar 2” come out of my new psychiatrist’s mouth was so incredibly validating.
Then the shock set in. Holy shit. I’m Bipolar. I’m crazy. People are going to run away from me. Can I lose my job over this? Don’t tell anyone! Be quiet. Shut UP! If people find out they won’t want to be around me anymore.
I literally thought I was going to lose my job .. that is how much stigma surrounded mental health 10 years ago. I was still a CNA at the time so I thought that they wouldn’t want someone like me taking care of Alzheimer’s patients. I was, obviously, wrong. I confided in my closest work friend and told her that I was diagnosed and that I was scared I was going to get fired. She very quickly, and lovingly, shut me down saying: “who cares?” Huh .. I hadn’t thought about that.
After that I slowly started to talk about it in passing. Everyone was so accepting and loving and truly no one cared. There was a time when someone said that they didn’t believe in mental illnesses (once again .. this was 10 years ago) and I stood proud and said “Well, I have Bipolar and I’m fine.” I think that was the first person that I educated. It felt good.
I am in no way saying that you have to scream it from the rooftops but you never know who you might educate by being open. OR who you might help!
I have been through a lot of education, medication, programs, therapy, worksheets, books, and coping tools so I am more comfortable than most telling my story. Some of it isn’t pretty and I think that continuing to talk about it helps me too.
Making this blog was a huge step. I am sharing my story and being open to anyone who reads this. That could mean friends, family, people I went to high school with, that random girl who I thought was a different girl but we’re still Facebook friends. That could be weird, but mostly it feels empowering.
The “net net” (hi vanessa) is that mental illness doesn’t have to be hidden. If you are a more private individual, that’s cool, but one shouldn’t be scared to tell your story. Those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.
love will carry you through
A Bowl of Oatmeal 