Out of the Psychoactive Closet
I'm 99.99% sure of my sexual orientation, so that's not the issue. So, outside of the accusations of schoolyard and workplace bullies, I'm heterosexual. That's been established (that, and most people inform me that I don't give off "that" vibe). Although, in some respects, I sorta envy the gay...lately, I've been likening myself to the straight-male equivalent of the harmless gay guy that women keep around. The main difference, is that women don't allow me to tweak their breasts or dispense fashion advice (that was a joke, people).
But, there's a different kind of closet, the one associated with the stigma of mental illness.
I haven't exactly gone around advertising my condition, because people really tend to look at you funny when you tell them that you're on psychoactive medication. They will assume that something's wrong with you, because, hey, there is. At least, relative to what is considered "normal" in society. Having your friends attempt to avoid offending you by walking on eggshells is difficult, especially when they mean no harm, but it's still insulting.
I have been slowly informing my friends of my situation, bringing up the total of the people who I consider friends who know to three. Incidentally, none of them live within one hour's driving distance.
Last night/this morning was spent MSNing an old classmate. She is someone who I admire in a lot of respects - beauty, intelligence, sunny disposition, loyal to her friends, and takes ca-ca from nobody. Hence, I was a little surprised when she told me how things weren't quite going 100% with her life, which led to her current bout with pharmaceutical mood boosting, to which I respond with my own admissions of recent diagnoses and prescriptions (it's only fair, right?).
By all outward appearances, we are both pretty good at putting up fronts - most people don't suspect that either of us are under any sort of medical aid or that we have any sort of serious psychological damage to begin with. Neither of us make a habit of dumping our problems on people or divulging stuff that should be restricted to a doctor's couch.
Much of the discussion focused on what we saw in each other and each of our respective "problems" from an objective standpoint. One of the sad realities is that other people's problems are a lot easier to fix than our own. We tend to be hung up on what are perceived as minor details that keep us from fulfilling our goals and improving our lives, and usually it is stuff that we have very little control over.
This is one of the major catch 22's of functional mental illness. Just knowing something is different than feeling something. I'm sure she realizes that the family related causes of her stress are not her fault. And to some degree, I don't really need reminders of the stuff that looks good on paper. So there really shouldn't be anything holding either of us back from being regularly laid, successful, employed, and happy. By all definitions, we should be able to just brush that stuff off and be what everyone expects us to, right?
But other factors come into play -- expectations and opinions of others, long-winded convuluted histories... It's easy to point out other people's problems and then simplify them with a single sentence. "You're just not trying hard enough." "You just have to be more confident." "You just have do believe in yourself." But then, there's simple, and there's easy.
Overcoming psychological baggage like this is "simple," if it could be boiled down to just what others perceive as the root of our problems. But it never really is. Even if the problem isn't psychological in nature, for example, anyone who is in a relationship where the other continuously takes the relationship for granted, it can be simplified. "He/she does it because you let him/her." But can it be boiled down to that? For someone who doesn't see every single detail, sure. For the person in the situation, no.
When you constantly feel like crap and really hate yourself, everything you do will be wrong, which is immediately sensed by the people around you and will in turn make you feel even worse. The cycle must break.
B-Side: It's not your fault and you're not alone. And as long as I know you're close by, I'll never be alone either. Love, V.
But, there's a different kind of closet, the one associated with the stigma of mental illness.
I haven't exactly gone around advertising my condition, because people really tend to look at you funny when you tell them that you're on psychoactive medication. They will assume that something's wrong with you, because, hey, there is. At least, relative to what is considered "normal" in society. Having your friends attempt to avoid offending you by walking on eggshells is difficult, especially when they mean no harm, but it's still insulting.
I have been slowly informing my friends of my situation, bringing up the total of the people who I consider friends who know to three. Incidentally, none of them live within one hour's driving distance.
Last night/this morning was spent MSNing an old classmate. She is someone who I admire in a lot of respects - beauty, intelligence, sunny disposition, loyal to her friends, and takes ca-ca from nobody. Hence, I was a little surprised when she told me how things weren't quite going 100% with her life, which led to her current bout with pharmaceutical mood boosting, to which I respond with my own admissions of recent diagnoses and prescriptions (it's only fair, right?).
By all outward appearances, we are both pretty good at putting up fronts - most people don't suspect that either of us are under any sort of medical aid or that we have any sort of serious psychological damage to begin with. Neither of us make a habit of dumping our problems on people or divulging stuff that should be restricted to a doctor's couch.
Much of the discussion focused on what we saw in each other and each of our respective "problems" from an objective standpoint. One of the sad realities is that other people's problems are a lot easier to fix than our own. We tend to be hung up on what are perceived as minor details that keep us from fulfilling our goals and improving our lives, and usually it is stuff that we have very little control over.
This is one of the major catch 22's of functional mental illness. Just knowing something is different than feeling something. I'm sure she realizes that the family related causes of her stress are not her fault. And to some degree, I don't really need reminders of the stuff that looks good on paper. So there really shouldn't be anything holding either of us back from being regularly laid, successful, employed, and happy. By all definitions, we should be able to just brush that stuff off and be what everyone expects us to, right?
But other factors come into play -- expectations and opinions of others, long-winded convuluted histories... It's easy to point out other people's problems and then simplify them with a single sentence. "You're just not trying hard enough." "You just have to be more confident." "You just have do believe in yourself." But then, there's simple, and there's easy.
Overcoming psychological baggage like this is "simple," if it could be boiled down to just what others perceive as the root of our problems. But it never really is. Even if the problem isn't psychological in nature, for example, anyone who is in a relationship where the other continuously takes the relationship for granted, it can be simplified. "He/she does it because you let him/her." But can it be boiled down to that? For someone who doesn't see every single detail, sure. For the person in the situation, no.
When you constantly feel like crap and really hate yourself, everything you do will be wrong, which is immediately sensed by the people around you and will in turn make you feel even worse. The cycle must break.
B-Side: It's not your fault and you're not alone. And as long as I know you're close by, I'll never be alone either. Love, V.
posted by Vince @ 1:40 PM
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