Okay, I'm really sick of people saying that mental disorders, especially mood disorders (Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Panic Attack Disorder, Major Depressive Disorder, Dysthymia, Bipolar Disorder, Attention Deficit [Hyperactive] Disorder and sometimes Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) are any of the following.
1) Scams to make pharmaceutical companies and psychotherapists money 2) Products of a weak will or an ability to "relax and enjoy life" 3) Cries for attention
1) Yes, in the United States, where there is a surplus of both psychiatrists who need to fatten their wallets, lazy doctors who would rather write a prescription than send them to a psychotherapist or encourage family members to be supportive, and pharmaceutical corporations who scam sick people out of their money.
However, this does NOT mean that the above disorders don't exist. Yes, it's true that many of them (especially ADHD, Depression, and Anxiety) are misdiagnosed and some doctors treat patients for them even though there isn't a formal diagnosis. It's sad and it IS a scam, but some people in the world DO have real mood disorders. The rip-off part of it is a product of our capitalistic society. It's not some grand conspiracy to medicate the masses.
2) and 3) If someone who has a mood disorder COULD overcome it...THEY WOULD! It's not fun! Even though it's been about 50 years since anyone who was "mentally ill" was shunned from society, there's still a huge stigma surrounding mental illness. I've been struggling with anxiety for 4 years now, and depression all my life. Know how much sympathy I've gotten from it? Not fucking much, except from people who are acquainted with psychology. My own family called me weak and crushed me when I told them I thought something was wrong with me. I practically had to beg to go to my first therapy session, even though my parents had found out that I was cutting myself multiple times daily.
I didn't want attention. I was ashamed because I was raised, like everyone else, to think that depression and anxiety were just a part of the human experience and that anyone who lets it get to them is weak-willed or looking for attention. Thanks to that, I let my depression spiral so far out of control that I nearly killed myself before my psychology teacher, to whom I am eternally grateful, helped me get to therapy and overcome enough of my issues that I was able to function until just recently.
Let me tell you how it is living with an anxiety disorder and depression.
On the anxiety side, I sometimes get so crippled by it that I can't do anything but sit in my room and hope no one tries to talk to me. When I go out in public, if I feel at all like people are noticing me, my heart starts to race. I start sweating. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, and all I can think about is getting the FUCK away from EVERYBODY. Once this happened, I'm fucked for the rest of the day. The worst scenario to every situation keeps playing in my head and I can't fucking stop it. I'll try to close my eyes, take a few breaths, and tell myself everything's okay, but some part of me is too stupid to listen. Unless I HAVE to be around people I don't know, 9 times out of 10, I'll just run away. I'll go outside and find some dark corner where no one will notice me and wait until my body and mind calm down.
It's not fun. I don't like it. I don't like telling people how bad it is, and most people wouldn't notice because all of this is happening inside me. I hate every second of it, but there's nothing I can do but hope it doesn't last long because I've tried everything, but so far the only things that have calmed it down are xanax and heroin.
On the depression side, my self-esteem is so low that even though I know I'm a gifted writer, I rarely get in the mood to write. Not because I'm not motivated, but because even my "best" works sound so stupid when I'm writing them that I feel like a child trying to write a story.
When I wake up in the morning, it takes me an hour or more to get out of bed on my own because I have no desire to do anything but sleep, even though I'm always thinking such horrible thoughts about myself that I either have to be drugged up or have been awake for over 20 hours to fall asleep. Lately, a lot of days, I sit in my room alone and either push all emotions out of my mind and live inside my head (so to speak), or break down and cry like a 12 year old girl.
And you know what? My life is fine. I have everything I need. Yeah, my father's a drunken ass, my sister is a 12-year-old Godless Heathen who's already doing drugs and hanging out with high school boys, and my mom is such an alcoholic that she can't cope with reality unless she chugs a pint of vodka on her way home from work. I miss having both my parents at once like I did growing up, but I have a roof over my head. I have all the food I want (though I only eat about once a day...), and as long as I keep going to university, I don't have any responsibilities except maintaining the house.
So why do I hurt so bad? I don't know. I wish I did, because I'm fed up with it. I want to grab life by the horns, but I just can't fucking do it. So, I finally got over my pride and went back to therapy. Tomorrow will be my second appointment, but I already know that with Dr. McWhorter's help, I can beat this thing.
One thing I don't need, though, is a bunch of assholes telling me that it's either my fault I'm depressed or that I've been conned. I haven't. I'm sick and need help.
I'm sorry to be so blunt about this, but I'm fed up with it. You people who say these things so nonchalantly have no idea what damage you could be doing to someone.
If you think it's all a scam or that me and other people like me are weak or just need to relax or whatever, fine. But don't be a dick about it. Help us.
Chew on this for a minute. One day, someone you know may develop major depressive disorder. They'll feel hopeless and start circling the drain. They may reach out to you, hoping to grab on to something, to find some support. What'll you do? You'll tell them to get over it. "Stop being such a baby. Life is fucked up. Deal with it."
A week later, you just might find yourself dressed in your finest suit, going to a funeral for someone who just wanted to know that life wasn't shit, and that they had something to live for.
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I'm sorry I'm so angry, but please, just be nice to people who might have a mental disorder. Just remember that if they could be better on their own, they would be. No one who really has one of these disorders chose to have it. It's what they got dealt in life, and if you have any shred of compassion inside you, you'll offer your love and support instead of ranting about pharmaceutical companies and the health care machine or telling them it's all their fault.
Love, Jake
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