You Can't Silence Me

Nope. I won’t do it. I refuse to be silent- no matter what others may think.

The thing is- I have trouble with my thought processes sometimes. I have plenty of automatic thoughts that come into my mind to poison and derail my progression in dealing with bipolar. I recently had one of those thoughts, and instead of letting the thought win, I used it as a stepping stone. (which, in and of itself is a HUGE accomplishment for me.) The thought was this- “I wonder how many people think that when you talk about bipolar, you are asking for attention, or pity, or to say that your trials are bigger and harder than theirs.” That’s almost enough to make me shut up. Almost.

However, I took that thought as a challenge, and began to analyze myself. Why do I talk so openly about having bipolar? Somehow, I feel it’s important for me to do so- but why? I came up with three very distinct and powerful reasons that I should not be silent about this disorder- about my disorder.

The first reason started out very simply; because I was asked to. My Bishop requested (with no pressure) that I share bits and pieces of my story with others in our Sunday School class. He wanted people to feel more comfortable going to therapy if they needed to, and he felt if someone shared their experience with it, it might ease their worries. Eventually, this reason changed from because I was asked to because I wanted to. I want people to know they’re not alone. You are NOT doing this by yourself. You have support. There are doctors and family and friends- AND ME. Come see me- let me give you a hug and let you know you’re okay. Friend me on Facebook- let me give you some words of encouragement. The more people who understand you and can be in your corner makes the disorder more manageable.

The second reason why I talk about having Bipolar is to hopefully lessen the stigma that is still on mental illness. I know there’s still a stigma placed on mental illness because I fell victim to all of those misunderstandings as I grew up as well as when I was first diagnosed. I hated myself because having a mental illness, at that time, made me a second-class citizen. NOT THE CASE!

I mean, yes, I have some quirky things that I have to do in my life, but don’t we all? Doesn’t someone with diabetes have to test their blood sugar frequently? Doesn’t a mom have her own different routines with her children? And what about you? Do you have to go to bed by 9:00 to function? Do you have to have milk with your peanut butter sandwich because no other drink will do? Do you have to press snooze button exactly three times before you’ll get out of bed? And why is my routine any different than yours? Just because the things I do help me manage a mental illness doesn’t make me any less normal or worthy as a person

than you.

I am a normal person, and I can live a relatively normal life- YES- even with Bipolar. So, be careful with your attitude. It’s people who still believe the rotten stigma attached to mental illness that makes it that much more difficult for us to confide in people and find the help that we need. There’s nothing wrong with needing help. Everybody does. Learn to be a little more feeling and understanding. We’re trying to be good people and live good lives just like you.

And the last reason, I will admit, is purely selfish. Talking about Bipolar is therapeutic for me. The truth of the matter is, words are powerful- both spoken and written (ever wonder why I write a blog about Bipolar?)- and the use of which words we use can have a huge impact on our reality. For example, I have taken to saying “I HAVE Bipolar”, instead of saying “I AM Bipolar”. I refuse to let Bipolar run my personality and my life by being a part of my identity. I say “I HAVE Bipolar” because it makes it something that I control rather than something that controls me. Saying out loud that I have Bipolar does two things; it makes me remember that Bipolar is a part of my reality. But somehow, it lessens the otherwise omnipotent, untouchable power that bipolar has in my life. Like, instead of some sort of nebulous thing that encircles me wherever I go, talking about it makes Bipolar just a medical word that suggests certain management strategies to adopt into my life. That’s it- it’s just a word.

And I have successfully gone a year without a major episode. All because my attitude towards Bipolar has been “I am the one in charge. I can take this into my own hands. I refuse to let Bipolar win.” The road getting there sucks. It’s an uphill battle finding the right medication, and management tools that work for you and your family. BUT, IT’S DO-ABLE. It just takes work and a winning attitude.

IMPORTANT SIDENOTE: Not long ago, I got to personally thank a leader of my church, Elder Holland, for a talk that he gave that addressed some issues of mental illness. (Remind me to post that talk later. If you want to look it up now, it’s called “Like a Broken Vessel”- and can be found on lds.org.) I told him how much it had meant to me, and he said something that struck me. He said (and I’m paraphrasing), “I don’t know who decided that we can’t talk about this stuff.”

That should be the ultimate argument. There is nowhere that says we can’t talk about having bipolar, or anxiety, or depression, or any other mental illness- even, or especially in church settings. These trials are our reality. And if talking about it makes me feel better- then I’m going to do it, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.