It’s not about reason.
Mental illness is not a choice. Hence the whole ‘illness’ part.
You don’t choose to have crippling self-hatred and suicidal ideations anymore than you would choose to have bone cancer.
Ruby Wax on mental illness, [x].
and just in case you aren’t sad enough, here are a couple of brain scans showing differences between the brains of two children of equivalent ages.
The experience of being abused and deprived of stimulation permanently and physicially alters the developing brain of a child in significant measurable ways that we do not have the science yet to repair after the damage is discovered.
It sounds very odd, but, in fact, when you are an infant and your brain is developing, the love that the people around you give, the touch, the eye contact, the tone of voice, the things, the physical manifestations of our love literally provide stimulation to the developing brain, and the neurons in the brain have more sprouts. They make certain areas connect more effectively. They make certain areas grow. They literally make the brain become functional.Love literally grows the brain.[x]
The kid whose head is wired by neglect or abuse is going to have a difficult life in a world his brain was not built to interact with. Maybe he’ll get in trouble with the law, have emotional problems and act out or become abusive to his loved ones, or maybe he’ll just spin his wheels and feel empty and wonder why (as many people will no doubt have asked him outright over his years) he can’t just try harder to get over it.
Massive amounts of therapy will help later, but that’s assuming he isn’t too ashamed to get it or turned away thanks to our bullshit for-profit healthcare system.
Mind over matter is bullshit if the matter is your mind.
By the same token, if someone is genuinely concerned that they may have a disorder, don’t write them off as attention-seeking little brats.
It just depends on the situation.
“lol I’m like so OCD hahaha” is fucking annoying as shit. But someone who is actually concerned because they’re wondering whether their behavior is legitimately compulsive but they haven’t been diagnosed is another matter.
"That’s what you do with Depression, you mask the symptoms. The symptoms of Depression IS depression, it’s not a symptom of something else. It’s not like you go “oooh, I feel really sad” and then your arse falls off. The symptoms of Depression is depression. You take away the symptoms of Depression HALLOOOOO! you’re cured! But Tom [Cruise] was like “no, no, no Matt. Matt, these drugs Matt, these drugs they’re just a crutch, these drugs are just a crutch!” and I’m thinking “yes?”. THEY’RE A CRUTCH! You don’t walk up to a guy with one leg and say “hey pal, that crutch is just a crutch, THROW IT AWAY! Hop ya bastard! That crutch is masking the symptoms of your one leggedness”."
Craig Ferguson on Tom Cruise attacking Brooke Shields for using anti-depressants to fight Post-Partum Depression. (via themarriageofadeadblogsing)
I have always thought Craig Ferguson was a very smart man. It appears I was right.
“It’s not like you go “oooh, I feel really sad” and then your arse falls off.”
i’m so glad he pointed out how fucked up the idea that something as a crutch is a bad thing
crutches are hella useful things
You can pry my Better Living Through Chemistry Crutch from my cold dead hands. Ironically, without the Lexapro, I would be dead because I would have offed myself YEARS ago.
people are very accepting of depression and anxiety and other mental illness until they run across someone who doesn’t fit the narrative of “aw poor sad beautiful shy girl who’s perfect in every way except she can’t see it but if you tell her you love her she’ll magically be cured”
because guess what it’s not that easy it’s not that simple it doesn’t work that way
mentally ill people are hard to deal with
we are by turns annoying and aggressive and shy and manic and depressed
we are not always fun to be around
we are difficult
and guess what? telling us we’re beautiful or we shouldn’t feel sad or we’re loved isn’t going to magically fix that
and god forbid we be crazy in a way that’s irritating to you
because the same people who claim to be there “if anyone needs anything at all!!!! <333” are usually the ones who are dismissive, cruel, who laugh when, god forbid, someone ISN’T that shy, sad, broken teenage girl who just needs someone to love her
and that acceptance ends abruptly when our mental illness becomes inconvenient
and that’s just fucked up.
you get felt up, fucked up, messed with, knocked up,
broke down, unemployed, drunk stepdads you can’t avoid,
cheap clothes, no car, pushed around for who you are,
no lights, power off, moms and dads that fucked off,
voices yelling, pills to take, shitty habits you can’t break,
angry, dazed and feeling dead, dirty, lonely, stuck in bed,
battles with the lies you took in, mirrors you can’t stand to look in,
ground-down teeth, chewed lips, picked off skin and fingertips,
fists clenched, jaw tight, not another restless night,
long sleeves, secrets, smiles and lies for all the scars you can’t disguise,
crazy thoughts, that isn’t real, what do i feel, why can’t i feel,
you’ve bowed down, given up, lost the strength to look up,
heard platitudes that failed you, judgments that derailed you,
had safety nets you fell through, family that deserted you
swore off that shit, went right back, had a dream but lost track,
felt too smart for this relapse, so much for the bootstraps,
the prayers didn’t work for shit, willpower wouldn’t touch it,
pretending didn’t fix it, you want to just say fuck it,
you’re done and want to break it, too tired to goddamn fake it,
i want to say,
i know you, i love you and respect you,
the bullshit you say no to, the sabotage you’re prone to,
the constant work you have to do, the credit no one gives you,
for all the pain you ever knew, the spikes your fucking soul grew,
and all the shit that haunts you and the stubbornness that saved you,
the future you can’t get to, because you don’t know what to do,
you’re not alone.
you’re not alone.
(Whatever good that does you.)
Okay, someone needs to perform this in a slam poetry reading right now. This is amazing.
Social anxiety isn’t cool.
OCD isn’t cool.
Bipolar disorder isn’t cool.
Depression isn’t cool.
Cutting isn’t cool.
Phobias aren’t cool.
Trauma isn’t cool.
Sleep disorders aren’t cool.
Eating disorders aren’t cool.
They’re real things, they’re scary, and pretending you have them is just fucking obnoxious and an insult.
can we also add borderline personality disorder and psychosis thank
May I just add that there’s a difference between pretending to have any of the above and being concerned that you may have one of them? I just want people to know that it’s perfectly fine to be concerned that you might have anxiety, etc., because sometimes they’re hard to define, and people are concerned about consulting a doctor if it turns out it’s not “real” or not serious enough to be considered for treatment.
Earlier this summer I got really legitimately worried I might have some form of anxiety- I was having small panic attacks during ballet classes- but was afraid to say anything about it for fear that it wasn’t “real” enough to be taken seriously. When I expressed my concerns to my mom, she told me I shouldn’t be intimidated by more advanced dancers, and just said not to get frustrated. Someone else told me to use the frustration to work harder, which is hard to do when the panic lessened my control over my own muscles. I just don’t want anyone else to feel they won’t be taken seriously if they express concern about any sort of disorder or problem, whether it be anxiety, depression, ED, paranoia, psychosis, anything.
Not to ruin the joke, but this is a perfect representation of how many people with depression (and/or other disorders) look.
Just because people with mental disorders don’t have a visible ailment, doesn’t mean they aren’t struggling.
I don’t need to see proof either, but a little compassion would be nice. I don’t know whether or not they’ve experienced depression but either way, they don’t need to pass judgment or say what you’re going through isn’t valid.
I’d say they’ve definitely experienced depression since they’ve been diagnosed bipolar and this requires episodes of depression. Did I mention I know the criteria?
I think I’ve experienced enough erasure already. It’s taken nearly a year for my family to accept that I have depression, and all the time I’ve been getting “you’re just a bit upset” and “you just need to get out more.” I am sick of erasure, and you’d think the bipolar community would welcome someone learning about their illness and support them as they come to terms with it.
This is such a crucial stage in the acceptance of mental illness. If I was convinced I was neurotypical, my situation could worsen and I would blame myself rather than the illness. It is so dangerous to go around policing who gets to justify their traumatic experiences based on an assessment by a single professional.
Agreed. I’ve been really lucky that mental illness runs in my family so my mother gets what I go through. My grandmother has mental illness too but she’s so stuck in her own world that she doesn’t understand when other people are depressed, only when she is. It’s frustrating as all hell.
I don’t think our illness should define us but it is a part of our lives and it isn’t something we choose and so when people say it is it’s hurtful and feeds into what depression already wants you to believe — that you are worthless and lazy and that it’s your fault and not a legitimate health issue. Only that’s not true. It is a health issue. It’s not laziness or any other label people try to push.
Lazy is not bothering to grab the remote for a few minutes until you get really bored with what you’re watching. Lazy is not when you can’t bring yourself to get out of bed or shower for days or weeks.
Sorry, I could rant about this for a long time.
As Annie laid in her bed that night the thought of Mitchell sound asleep in the other room kept her wide awake and she wondered if things would ever be the same again between them.
(Being Human - the way it was first planned. As suicidal Annie Sawyer takes in a bipolar George Sands and dry alcoholic John Mitchell to share a flat with her, she has no idea what she’s getting herself - and her equally unstable flatmates - into. Removed and reposted for a change of writing plans <3)
Please, people. Learn the difference.
This is a personal issue for me that hits close to home. This especially goes out to all the fucking young people of this world who self-diagnose themselves when the truth is they don’t have the slightest fucking IDEA what it’s like to really have any of those conditions because if they did, they sure as hell wouldn’t be writing all over the Internet about it.
This. So much.
This also reminds me of how I’ve been told “Oh, you’re not ____. You just ____.“… which is equally as hurtful if not moreso. :/
lol i do have add and ocd
You shouldn’t assume that people are or aren’t something. Disorders like this manifest differently for different people. Some people who have these disorders will talk about it, others won’t. Don’t make the assumption for everyone.
That being said, if you’re having an “OCD moment” it doesn’t make you OCD. Everyone has little neurotic things, it doesn’t make you automatically diagnosed with a serious mental illness.
A Post Secret from this Sunday that I can relate to.
I don’t know if I’ve suffered for my creative gifts but I do know that the pain I’ve experienced has informed and molded my gifts. (If that makes sense.)