I have BP II, many years of illness/hospitals/ECT/meds etc. I wrote this article for me and everyone else. Hope you like it.
Most of us living with mental illness; it’s not uncommon to feel bitter and regret. Why did this happen to me? Why did the illness pick me? I, too, am the cynic at times.
I married a man who took his vows seriously, ‘in sickness and in health’ and stuck by me down the rough, rocky road of depression/bipolar. It’s true, this is an illness, however, living with a spouse/family member wracked with depression must take its toll.
I could twist this into a negative, but some may disagree, instead a positive to find out who my true friends were; and that I did. Although results were negative and it took a while to overcome losses – I’m ok with it now.
However burdened by this illness, and hospitalized too many times, I would never have met the caring nurses that sat with me daily. They encouraged me, with good advice, and not just head patting stating “yes, things will get better, dear”. These nurses were my savior at times.
The people, my fellow patients, whom I met during my many stays in hospital. I would never have met these beautiful people, and a couple of these very close friends I lost due to suicide, and as writing this, I still well up with tears. All of us were just trying to survive each day; many living behind a trapped door, most of us succumbed by the giant hands of depression. Some of us would sit and share stories; our children, jobs, families. These were genuine people; not people to be dismissed by society because of an illness – mental illness.
Striking gold finding the caring, compassionate psychiatrist that I have now.
And I do have to thank my employer. They took a chance on me. I was the one who was unemployed for a number of years and produced a resume packed with holes. I guess they saw something in me.
My blog. My voice to get the word out about mental illness. The big “S” word stigma is so prevalent in our society; so why not educate.