Bipolar Disorder: A Short Story

Wet Season

Dry Season

Mab woke up every morning, stretched his arms and legs, and let out a great howl of joy.  He'd made it

Mab woke up every morning, stretched his arms and legs, and lay back down for more sleep.  He wasn't

through another night, waking with the energy of many men.  Today was another day to live his best life. 

 

ready to face another day.  He had no energy and no desire to get started with his day.  Today was just

 

He stepped outside of his cave and let out another howl of joy.  The waters were falling from the sky,

 

another dry day of unsettling sunlight and heat.  After a few more hours of rest, Mab decided it was 

cooling the land and bringing life to the mountainside.  Mab grabbed his spear and went off for a morning

 

time to gather some fruit for breakfast.  Groaning with displeasure, Mab made his way out of the cave

hunt.  While searching for something good to eat, Mab noticed all of the beauty around him; the leaves 

towards the forest.  He headed straight for this favorite fruit tree.  Once at the tree, he sat down in its

dripping with water, the grass blowing in the wind, the dark clouds covering the sky.  Yes, today was

 

shade to take a rest.  He was still very tired.  After a quick nap, Mab collected his pile of stones and 

going to be a good day.  Mab headed for the forest, sure that he'd find some prey hiding from the falling

 

expertly threw the stones at the fruit.  As the fruit was falling from the tree, a beautiful bird came into

 

waters.  He eventually found a small herd of antelope.  Feeling confident, Mab set his sights on the largest 

view.  Annoyed at the interruption, Mab threw a stone at the magnificent bird.  His aim was true.  He'd

antelope, a female.  Gripping his spear tightly, Mab ran into the herd at full speed.  As the antelope scattered,

 

have some meat tonight.  Gathering the bird and the fruit, Mab made his way back to the cave.  In no

Mab was grazed by antlers and hooves, but he didn't notice the pain.  His focus was on the giant antelope at the

hurry, Mab dragged his feet in the dusty, dry ground.  He heard a rustle behind him.  He turned back to

end of his spear.  She put up a fight, but Mab came out victorious.  Dripping blood and sweat, Mab 

see a pair of large cats, licking their lips and growling hungrily.  Mab stopped and stood in fear.  He 

prepared to drag his prey back to his cave.  Still feeling confident and energetic, Mab was unaware of the

 

dropped his load of fruit and meat and ran towards his cave.  The large cats pounced on the bird,

pain from his injuries, unaware of the weight of the carcass he toted behind him.  Pushing through the 

ravenously tearing at the meat.  Mab looked back in dismay, mourning the loss of a hearty supper.

howling wind and drenching waters, Mab could see his cave up ahead.  But he also saw a pack of wolves,

 

After having devoured the dead bird, the large cats turned and headed back into the forest.  Mab had

looking for food of their own.  His energy rising again, Mab dropped his load and prepared his spear.  He

 

fallen asleep, drained of all his energy.  Once awake, he headed out of the cave to collect the fruit he

rushed the wolves, trying to catch them off guard.  He dropped one wolf as the others realized what was

 

had dropped.  Some fruits were still good, but most had been crushed by the large cats.  Mab ate one of

happening.  They circled around Mab, growling, fur raised.  The leader of the pack leapt at Mab.  Mab

 

the fruits and stored the rest for later.  He wasn't very hungry at the moment.  Having nothing else to

rolled out of the way, spear raised in defense.  Having dropped another wolf, Mab's confidence once more

 

do, Mab found a comfortable spot near the entrance of the cave.  He watched the day roll by, the sun

took over.  He swung his spear about, taking down wolf after wolf.  He was clawed in the back, bitten on

 

rising to the center of the sky, then dropping in the west.  The herds grazing in the sparse, dry grass.

the leg, but still he fought, until all the wolves were taken down.  Gasping for breath, Mab let out a loud,

 

Today was difficult.  Mab was exhausted, despite all the rest he'd taken today.  Hopefully tomorrow

booming laugh followed by yet another howl of joy.  Feeling invincible, Mab grabbed his prized antelope,

 

would be a better day.  Mab lay down for the night and fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of fruit and

plus a wolf, and made his way back to his cave. 

 

large cats.
 

I Can('t) Do Hard Things

I've always hated hearing people say "You can do hard things".  I have struggled with doing difficult things my whole life.  I moved home from Idaho in 2023 because life got too difficult.  I have quit jobs because they were too difficult. Most recently, the difficult thing I couldn't do was finish a semester of school.  School got difficult, my anxiety took over, and I dropped out of school four weeks before the end of the semester.  

I look back at where I was years ago, though, and see all of the difficult things I was able to do.  Moving out to Idaho in the first place, not once, but twice.  Attending three different colleges.  Stepping out of the food and retail industry and starting my career as a manny.  These were all difficult things.  Sure, I quit most of the things listed above (still going strong as a manny!), but it took a lot for me to try.  I'm not one to step out of my comfort zone, yet I've found myself leaving my zone on a regular basis.

I don't know if I'll ever finish college.  I don't know if I'll ever be able to leave Pennsylvania again.  But I do know that I need to keep an open mind to those options.  I can't do hard things, but I keep trying anyway.  Maybe someday it will all work out.

Backwards Anxiety

 

I feel as though my life has always consisted of taking one step forward, quickly followed by two steps backward.  In 2018, I took my biggest step forward by moving to Idaho to continue my education.  In 2019, I took a couple steps back by moving back home to Pennsylvania.  While in Pennsylvania, my mannying clientele grew, my anxiety almost completely vanished thanks to lifestyle changes and a wonderful therapist, and I was the happiest I had been in years.  Then I took the giant step of moving back to Idaho in 2022.  Since being back in Idaho, I find myself stepping backwards again.  But one of those backward steps worked out well for me.

After moving back to Idaho, being unemployed for a month, and digging myself into a hole of financial burden, my anxiety decided to take over.  It didn't help that I had just cut one of my medicine dosages in half.  But me being me, I didn't want to go back to the full dosage.  In fact, after three months and with permission from my doctor, I took two steps backwards and went off that medication completely.

The two or three weeks after discontinuing that prescription were miserable.  I was always trembling, constantly on the verge of tears, and extremely sensitive to everything around me.  I hoped and prayed that all this would go away once my body was done going through withdrawals.  

Miracle of miracles, it almost all went away (except for the occasional trembling).  The confidence I had while I was in Pennsylvania returned.  Aside from the medication, nothing in my life has changed.  All the stressors are still there, but I am now able to manage them.  I have become comfortable asking for help.  I am almost always in a better mood at work.  I'm feeling happy again, for the most part.  I just had to take a step back.

My life is nowhere near where I want it to be.  The anxiety is still there, especially in regards to what life has in store for me.  I'm confused about my future, about what my next steps are.  I now understand, though, that it is okay to take a couple steps back.  Those backwards steps might just lead me to the greatest next step imaginable.

*Note:  Although being taken off of a medication worked for me, it may not work for everyone.  I was on that medication for 17 years.  It worked really well for many of those years, but as time went on, I'm guessing that my body built up a resistance to it.  Please talk to your doctor before discontinuing your medication.

iPhilip 30

 

On March 27th of this year, the iPhilip 30 made an appearance.  This particular iPhilip was to be the greatest yet.  But, as is often the case, life got in the way.  Here is iPhilip's story in his own words:

"My 30th year of life began with the loss of my emotional support kitty, Zoe.  She was just 11-years old.  I decided that I didn't want to wait to adopt another cat.  So I eventually adopted a beautiful tortoise hair cat that I named Zadie.  She hated me for a long time, which, obviously, didn't provide me with the emotional support I needed.  Months later, she is my little shadow and loves to be petted.

"Back in April, while I was in the process of adopting Zadie, a difficult decision arose (unrelated to Zadie's adoption).  I could make it easy by continuing to do what I was already doing; but in so doing, I would be causing myself more and more anxiety.  Or, I could make the more difficult, but correct choice, which is what I did.  I made the more difficult choice, knowing that my life would be miserable for awhile.  I knew people would hate me for the choice I made.  I knew my life would temporarily become a living hell.  But I made the choice anyways.  What I didn't know was that my social media and blog would be stalked.  I didn't expect failed attempts to have me taken down at every turn.  I began regretting the choice I made, even though I knew it was the right one.

"I began seeing a therapist.  She has been wonderful for me and has helped me through a lot.  But I still have a long way to go.  Even nearly half a year later, I am struggling with the decision I made.  If given the chance to do it over again, I would still make the same choice, even though I question it almost every day.  Doing the right thing isn't always easy.

"Just last week, I was in a dark place, a darker place than I had ever been in before.  I slowly got out of it using the techniques my therapist gave me.  I'm still not at 100%.  It may be a while until I'm there again.  But I'm trying."

When asked to describe himself, iPhilip 30 said that he is "big-hearted, but broken."  He remains hopeful and is continuing to look for ways to improve himself.  He is doing a lot of self-care activities and putting down boundaries.  We at iPhilip are certain that things will only get better.

An Open Letter

 

Dear friends,

I, along with millions of others, have had the Olympics on my mind and on my TV for the past week or so.  The news of Simone Biles opting to stop her participation was huge news this week.  She decided to put her mental health before her fame.  I've seen many different responses to the news.  A lot of love and encouragement, but also a lot of shaming and hate.  I've seen comments on social media from people I know and love.  So here is my open letter to those friends.

For those of you who are shaming Simone Biles for quitting, let me be the first to apologize.  I'm sorry that I, your friend, struggle with mental illness.  I'm sorry that I worry every day about what my future holds, or if I even have a future.  I'm sorry I can be such a Debbie Downer at times.  I'm sorry I'm too afraid at times to act 'normal'.  I'm sorry if I ever made you feel ashamed to call me a friend.

For my friends who are showing love and support towards Simone, I now know who I can turn to in times of trouble.

I, too, have had to make difficult decisions in the past.  Do I keep pressing forward in an emotionally draining environment?  Or do I quit to take care of myself?  I do my best to weigh the pros and cons.  If I can't see myself continuing on and being happy, I'll admit that I give up.  It's never an easy choice, but it's a choice that sometimes needs to be made.  I may give up on a lot of things, but I refuse to give up on myself.

I love each and every one of my friends.  I hope they all know that I can be a listening ear and/or a shoulder to cry on if they need one.  Life gets tough, but you can make it through.  Just make the right choice, even if it's the difficult one.

Your friend and ally, 

Philip 

Morning Madness

I was being swallowed up by the darkness, as if hands creeping from the shadows were dragging me down to the fears that lived inside my mind.  My thoughts turned to dread, hopelessness, and death.  I was alone on my own little planet without a light to see the way, all the stars burned out.  Madness was taking over.  I truly wished I was dead.

Saturday morning, I woke up to racing thoughts, mostly about failure, debt, and my future.  I was overcome with a feeling of dread of what my life was to become.  I had no money, no hope to pay for my tuition, anxiety over doing online courses, and felt like a failure for having to move back in with my parents.

When I finally made my way out of bed and got my breakfast, my mom came out and asked me to do the dishes when I was done eating.  Still overwhelmed by emotion and fear, I covered my face and just started crying.  I added embarrassment to the list of emotions going through my mind.

The next day, I awoke to the same thoughts swimming around in the front of my brain.  Within two hours, I was on the verge of tears three times.  I kept telling myself that I was better off dead, but was too afraid to actually act out on those thoughts.  I told myself that I needed to be admitted to the hospital, but I don't currently have good insurance.  My anxiety meds finally kicked in, and I was better.  Not 100%, but better.

That evening, I spoke to my parents about the things that were worrying me.  I dropped two of my three online courses, which was a huge relief.

I am doing much better now, back to 100%.  

This isn't easy to share.  It's not easy telling people that you were on the verge of giving up on life.  But I am sharing this for a reason.  On the outside, I may look like I'm doing really well.  But the outside is not a reflection of the inside.  Talking with my parents was a huge help for me.  I would urge anyone who has gone through an episode like I experienced to talk to someone.  Ending your life and giving up is never the answer.  Talk to someone you know will listen.  You can overcome the darkness.

Getting Back in the Groove

As I mentioned last week, I have been attending a recreational therapy program called THRIVE.  It is aimed towards people with depression and/or anxiety and helping them cope with life.  One of the main purposes of THRIVE is creating goals and seeing them through.  We meet in accountability groups at the end of each session to see how we're doing with our goals.
Since I started attending THRIVE, I have noticed that I have become much more motivated and happier.  My younger brother said he noticed the same thing.  Since beginning THRIVE, I have been going to the gym, I changed up my eating habits, started meeting with a wellness coach, and started truly enjoying life.  I still get anxious and depressed, but I now have a better grip on reality.
One week at THRIVE, we talked about finding our flow.  Flow is experienced when you are doing something you absolutely enjoy and that seems to come naturally for you.  Time seems to slow down and nothing else matters.  I experience flow the most when I'm brainstorming photo ideas and executing those ideas.  Photography is my thing.  Time slows down and nothing but my ideas and photos matters.  Flow is when we are feeling the most at ease.
I am truly grateful for the THRIVE program and all that I have learned there.  I was beginning to think that a change in medication or dosage was the only thing to get me out of the funk I was in.  But I can attest that therapy, along with medication, is the best way to get back into the groove of things.

A Great(er) Depression

What can I say?  Idaho is just a depressing place.  I spent almost all of February through April hating life and hating myself.  I hid it well.  On the outside, I was a happy young man with a couple small issues.  But inside, I didn't know who I was anymore.  I went through all the motions: get up, eat, go back to bed, go to work, go back to bed.
When school started, things began to change.  My depression was still there, but not as intense as it had been.  I actually had things to do with my day.  I woke up in the morning, went to class(es), went to work, then back to bed.
My therapist, who is amazing, by the way, recommended a program on campus called THRIVE (I'm not sure why it's all caps, it doesn't stand for anything).  THRIVE has helped me so much.  It's a recreational therapy group that helps me and others in my situation learn how to deal with life.  Because of THRIVE, I have become motivated to go to the gym three days a week, to meet up with a wellness adviser to help me with my nutrition, and to simply see the good things in life.  I'm more motivated to try new things.  I'm not nearly as anxious as I normally am, and my depression is completely gone.
I guess my message is this:  Get out of your comfort zone and try something new.  I'm still taking my medications as prescribed.  But instead of increasing my dosage, my doctor suggested THRIVE, socializing, and trying new things.  I realize this is much easier said than done, but it works.  I have found myself again.  I am in a much better place.

I Am Not My Body pt. 3: I Blame Myself

A few years ago, some members of the church I attend were passing around a color quiz.  This color quiz assigned you a color based on your answers about your personality.  The color you are assigned supposedly tells people what they can expect from you.  For example, if I remember correctly, someone who is a White is calm and easy going.  I was tempted to take the quiz.  Until I heard someone justify someone else's actions using a color.
"Of course he wouldn't mop the floor.  He's a blue!"
I'm fairly certain she was being sarcastic.  But I decided not to take the quiz.  I didn't want a reason to justify my actions.  And I definitely didn't want others assuming they knew me based off of a color quiz.
The same is true about mental illness.  In part two of this series, I briefly discussed labels.  How I have ADD, not that I am ADD.  Now onto the next step.  Just because I have ADD and anxiety doesn't mean I can justify my actions because of my ADD/anxiety.
When I was younger, I would blame my mental illnesses for my actions.  I was too afraid because of my anxiety.  I couldn't focus because of my ADD.  It's true that my anxiety causes me to fear things.  It does occasionally influence my decisions.  But my decisions are just that:  mine.  I am in control of my actions, not my mental illness.
All these school shootings that have been happening are, unfortunately, a good example who is to blame.  So many people blame the mental illness.  Others blame the gun.  I blame the person.  It may be true that their mental state may have driven them to committing these awful acts, but ultimately, it was their decision.  The insanity plea does not sit well with me.
Believe it or not, the most important step in conquering mental illness is taking ownership of your actions.  Understanding that your illness does not dictate your life.  If this were the case, then there would be no need for medication or therapy.  You would just be willing to let your mental illness control your life.  But that's not the way it is.  I am on medication.  I have visited with therapists.  With help, I am conquering my mental illnesses.  When something goes wrong, I want the blame to be on me, not my damaged brain.  I am not my brain.  I am not a color.  I am not my body.

A Funny Thing, Anxiety

Some people are afraid of heights.  Some people are claustrophobic.  Some people are uncomfortable being in the dark.  Some people are terrified of spiders.
Those people are weird.
But then I remember that I'm afraid of people.
That I'm weird.
Heights don't bother me.  In fact, I love high places.  They offer a unique view of the world.
I'm not claustrophobic.  I prefer tight spaces.  Put me in an open field all by myself.  That's how to freak me out.  At least in a tight spot you can see what all is around you.
I'll admit, the dark does me uncomfortable.
Spiders are cool!  I mean, not when you're driving on the highway and a spider slides down its web into your line of vision.  But everywhere else, spiders are cool.
People are terrifying!  People are capable of thought and judgement, and that's scary.  I often wish I could read minds just so I knew if and what people were thinking about me.  Eye contact is especially scary.  You don't exist until you make eye contact with someone, right?
Anxiety is a funny, though.
As much as I don't want to be around people, I also crave attention.  I want to fit in.  But that's hard to do when eye contact makes me shudder.  But when given the choice between public speaking and bungee jumping into a pit of snakes, the snakes always win.  (And no, I've never been offered that choice before.)
I find it funny when people tell me I'm easy going and relaxed.  I've had people tell me that I just go with the flow.  It's easy going with the flow.  It's more difficult being the flow.  And being easy going helps avoid conflict.  Everything I do is to keep me from being a social outcast.  I am the quiet guy in the group pretending to fit in.
Carson Daly, host of The Voice, recently admitted to having severe social anxiety.  Carson Daly, whose job it is to stand in front of huge crowds of people and help put on a show.  But if you look closely, you'll see.  He is constantly on the move, tapping a foot or a finger, soldiering on.  What a guy!  Able to do what he loves, even though he's terrified of what he loves.  He's someone to look up to.  Hopefully I can reach that level in life.  That's all I want.

Superheroes

In a world where everyday people go about their business, a super villain rises up out of the shadows.  When all hope seems lost, a group of superheroes stands up for what is right.  Meet the Mhavengers!  (MHA = Mental Health Awareness)
The leader of the Mhavengers is Captain Caution, whose anxiety leads her in safety and thinking things through.  She is followed by Kid Koncentrate, whose ADHD helps him outmaneuver bad guys.  The last member of the team is Artbringer, whose depression helps him feel things more deeply than most.  Together, the Mhavengers bring hope and joy to a scary world.  These are the adventures of the Mhavengers.
Let's take a look at Captain Caution first.  There's a reason she is the leader.  Her ability to think things through keeps her and her team safe.  Rather than acting spontaneously, Captain Caution looks for the best outcome in battle.  She looks at all of her options.  Every option has pros and cons.  Which option has the least cons?  Captain Caution's power of Racing Thoughts helps her to make quick decisions.  She has never lost a team member because she thinks things through.
Captain Caution's weakness, though, is her own mind.  Racing Thoughts is a super power, but also a weakness.  When one's mind is working at the speed of light, it's easy, and inevitable, to go from positive to negative thoughts in a millisecond.  Captain Caution uses the power of optimism when making decisions.  This helps her stay on a positive train of thought.
Next up is Kid Koncentrate.  His ADHD makes him a difficult target to hit.  Always on the move, Kid Koncentrate is always one step ahead of his foes.  And with his super power, Wandering Eyes, Kid Koncentrate is able to notice obstacles that his teammates might have missed.  His impulses are kept in check by Captain Caution.  But when things are looking bad, Captain Caution lets Kid Koncentrate loose.  Enemies won't even know what hit them.
Kid Koncentrate's weakness, like Captain Caution's, is his super power.  His Wandering Eyes may lose focus at times.  When told to be on the look out for something, Kid Koncentrate often fails to find what he is searching for.  He notices all the details except those that are important for the task at hand.
The last member of the Mhavengers is Artbringer.  Artbringer's depression leaves him feeling emotions very strongly.  He can perfectly empathize with the people he is saving.  By putting himself in their shoes, Artbringer is able to find a way to overcome the challenges set before him.  Artbringer's super power is Creativity.  This power helps Artbringer get his team through tough times.  By thinking outside of the box, Artbringer is able to bring villains to justice using the element of surprise.  Everyone has their own unique style of creativity.  Whatever Artbringer creates is sure to leave villains speechless.
Artbringer's weakness is his emotions.  By feeling things so deeply, Artbringer is often brought down by the weight of his feelings and the feelings of others.  He finds that he is unable to continue on in the battle.  But he always rises above this.  And that is a super power in its own right.
The next time you or someone you know complains about a mental disorder that can at times seem like a plague, open up the adventures of the Mhavengers.  These people are real.  Their powers are real.  The woman you walked past in the mall might be Captain Caution.  The 5th grader fidgeting at his desk might be Kid Koncentrate.  And the man painting in the park to fight off his demons might be Artbringer.  Together, they are making the world a better a place.

I Am Not My Body pt.2: Labels

Last week, while doing his homework, the 13-year old made a discovery.  He knew that he had ADD, but he never really understood what the letters stood for.  All he understood was the 'attention' part.  He came downstairs proclaiming "I know what ADD is now!  I have a disorder?" to which his mother came up with a brilliant reply:
"You don't have a disorder.  You have a superpower.  Your ADD is your cape."
My boss mom and I then tried to explain to the 13-year old the good things that his ADD gave him.  He is better at multitasking, he is very intelligent.  And what amazes me is that this bright young man gets straight As in school.  That in itself is a super power to me.
I was diagnosed with ADD about a year or two after graduating high school (which explains why I almost didn't graduate.).  For the next year or two, I blamed everything on my ADD.  I would tell people, "I'm ADD.  It's what I do."  Looking back now, I realize how ridiculous I was being.
First of all, I am not ADD.  I have ADD.  A mental disorder is not a label.  A person isn't bipolar.  They have a bipolar disorder.
Think of it this way.  I get migraines.  Therefore, I am a migraine.  Doesn't make sense, right?  So why label people with mental disorders as ADD/ADHD.  I am not a migraine.  I get migraines.
So, "I'm ADD" was the first wrong thing I said.  The second was blaming my ADD for the way I acted.
Again, I am not ADD.  My mental disorder does not control me.  I have ADD.  I also have a cat.  And a car.  As difficult and expensive as it gets to keep my cat in good health or my car in good shape, I am still in control.  If my cat gets sick, my life may cycle around her.  If my car breaks down, my life changes, but only until the car is fixed.  If my ADD tells me to look at the stain on the ceiling that looks like Robert de Niro instead of listening to my professor's lecture, I tell my ADD no.  Mr. de Niro can wait.
I am not ADD.  I am not anxiety.  I fight to control my ADD and anxiety.  These are my superpowers, that I am in control of.  I am Philip.  I am not my body.

48-Hours

Every morning when I wake up, the first thing I do is take my medication.  I take two pills to help lessen my anxiety and help me get through the day.
I've missed doses here and there before, but usually of just one of my pills.  I may have pill A, but I forgot to refill pill B.  A couple weeks ago, however, I went two days without taking either pill.  That's 48-hours of me, alone with my thoughts and fears.
I had already called for the refills to be...well...refilled.  But, you know how it is.  Life has a way of grabbing you by the ears and whisking you away.  My life had become pretty hectic.  So I forgot about my refills.

Day 1
The first day of being unmedicated went fairly smoothly.  I had to drive a friend to a doctor's appointment.  I acknowledged the fact that I didn't have any pills to take and told myself I would pick them up on the way home.  That didn't happen.  Life had me by the ears.
It was a perfectly normal day, up until the evening.  I began to feel light headed and nauseous.  My arms and legs got a little shaky.  This had happened before.  Just a side effect of missing one of my pills.  No worries.  I'd pick the pills up in the morning.

Day 2
This was a rough day for me.  It started out like a normal day, but as the day went on, I began to get more and more agitated.  My thoughts began to randomly race around like my brain was trying to win the Indy 500.  I was sitting there, eating dinner, asking myself how I had survived this long.  How was I ever going to pay for school?  I think I need a new car.  Where would that money come from?  Why am I still single?  (To be fair, I'm always asking myself that question.)  I became so overwhelmed with fear that I just wanted everything to end.  I wanted to go to bed and never wake up again.  Yeah, it was pretty intense.  On top of that, the nausea, shakiness, and light headedness had only gotten worse.

The next day, I woke up, ate breakfast, and went straight to the pharmacy.  I was still pretty anxious, but by dinner time, I was back to being myself again.  I had, and have, the same doubts and fears, but they no longer consume me.
The important to thing to note from my experience is that I realized I was not okay.  I realized I needed to get my medication.  I have heard of people, young and old, who decide they are all right, that they don't need to take their medications anymore.  It could be true.  Some people actually do outgrown their mental illnesses, or learn how to live with them.  But the choice to quit medicating is not yours to make alone.  You should always talk to your doctor first.  Get there opinion.  Schedule a follow-up appointment so your doctor can see for themselves how you are doing.
After the 48-hour experience I had, I now know that, as much as hate to admit it, I need my medicine to get through my day.  The next time I run low on pills, I will be grabbing my own ears, thank you very much, and taking myself to the pharmacy.

Ms. Earley's 3rd Grade Class

In January of the year 2000, my whole life changed for the better.  As I have mentioned in previous posts, I was diagnosed with a social anxiety disorder at a young age.  Because of my anxiety, especially my selective mutism, my mom decided it was best for me to be home schooled.  From Kindergarten through 2nd grade, I had the same teacher:  Mrs. Mom (I didn't call her that by the way.  It was just 'mom'.).  Halfway through my 3rd grade year, after being successfully prescribed with medications and treatments, I asked my mom if I could go to public school.  She felt that I was ready.
In the first month of the Millenium, I was enrolled in Harman Elementary and assigned to Ms. Earley's class.  Now imagine, a kid who is terrified of people and doesn't even speak to kids his own age, going to public school.  What had I gotten myself into?!
Fortunately for me, Ms. Earley was the perfect teacher for me at that time in my life.  She was kind and didn't give me funny looks like some adults did when they thought I wasn't looking.  She treated me like she treated her other students:  with love and care.  But not everyone in the classroom was so warm at first.  I got a lot of dirty looks from the girls, and the boys didn't know what to do with me.  But one girl, Jenny, decided to take me under her wing.  And, by some miracle, I was perfectly comfortable with talking to her.  In fact, she became my spokeswomen...er...-girl.  I would whisper things into her ear, and she would repeat what I said.  Ms. Earley even put our desks together so I would feel comfortable answering questions in class, always through Jenny.
As the school year progressed, I became more and more comfortable with my class mates and made plenty of friends, all of whom I was comfortable speaking with.  But, as much as I wanted to, I just couldn't bring myself to talk to Ms. Earley.
I don't remember when it was.  It was probably towards the end of the year.  One day during reading time, I had to use the restroom.  I rose my hand, using the sign for the letter "T" as was required at Harmans.  Ms. Earley didn't see me.  She, too, was reading.  So, after weighing my options, I stood up, walked over to Ms. Earley's desk and asked "May I use the bathroom?"  And you know what she said?  Without looking up from her book (must have been a good one!) she asked "Boy or girl?".  I said that I was a boy.  She looked up from her book, saw who had spoken, and I swear her eyes teared up a little.  She calmly handed me the boy's bathroom pass, as if nothing momentous had occurred.  That is the moment that changed my life.  Instead of excitedly exclaiming "Yes!  You may have the bathroom pass!  You may have all the bathroom passes!", she stayed calm and treated me like a regular student.  Doesn't sound like that big of a deal.  But for me, a child who was used to getting lectured for being impolite for not speaking, a child who was used to being treated delicately, like a China doll, was finally treated like everyone else.
The next day, however, Ms. Earley had added something new to my desk.  A Root Beer scented scratch-and-sniff sticker.  She told me that for everytime I spoke to her, I would get another sticker.  I didn't mind.  Who complains about stickers?  That smell like Root Beer?!  My desk was filled with stickers by the beginning of June.
So at this time in my life, I would just like to thank Ms. Earley and those students in her class.  My life was forever changed.  I saw the beauty and kindness that humanity has to offer.  Because of Ms. Earley's 3rd grade class, I became a changed man...er...boy.


p.s.  Because I started 3rd grade in January, I missed picture day.  So I cheated!  The above picture is actually from Mrs. Resnick's 4th grade class.  But that's another story.

Recycled Post

This is probably cheating, but I don't care.  This is a post from my photography blog that I absolutely love!  I still occasionally look at the pictures and think, Wow!  I took these?  So here is the link:

http://perfectkaptures.blogspot.com/2014/05/mental-health-awareness.html

Enjoy!

A Mental Note

Nothing irks me more than when people blame things on a mental disorder.  "I made this choice because I have a mental illness."  No.  You made that choice because there was a choice to be made.  As you may recall from a previous post (I Am Not My Body), you are not defined by your mental health problems.  You define yourself.
Having grown up with severe social anxiety, I know what it is like to make choices based on my feelings.  And I regret a lot of the choices I made.  I was too scared to do things that I probably would have enjoyed.  But I didn't make my choices because of my anxiety.  The anxiety certainly influenced my choices.  Now, as an adult, I still struggle a lot with my anxiety.  But I push myself out of my comfort zone.  I want to experience life, even if my brain doesn't.  I fight my anxiety.
Which is why certain illnesses becoming mainstream really confuses me.  All this talk about gender dysphoria (aka transgenderism), for example.  Gender dysphoria used to be labelled as a mental illness.  Now, it is a way of life.  It is a choice.  What does that mean for other mental illnesses?
Now, imagine a world where there are no mental illnesses.  Only choices.  Different ways of life.  Anxiety is socially accepted as a way of life.  I am free to never leave my house, to stay cooped up with my fears, terrified of the world around me.  But it's okay.  I made my choice to live with my fears.
What a frightening world!  It gives me anxiety just thinking about it.  Mental illnesses are...well, illnesses.  They are meant to be overcome.  A woman with breast cancer doesn't choose to accept her illness.  She fights it.  A man with diabetes doesn't accept his illness.  He fights it.  A child with the flu doesn't accept their illness.  They fight it.  It really frustrates me that certain mental disorders are being made mainstream while people are still fighting to overcome their own disorders.  I don't mean to start any arguments.  Everyone, including myself, is entitled to their own opinions.  (So please don't stop following me or unfriend me!)  I just want people to see my side of things.  I will respect other people's choices because they are free to make choices.  I can't decide things for others.  But please, don't let a simple hormone imbalance (serotonin in my case) be the deciding factor in your life.  Remember, I am not my body.  Neither are you.  You decide who you want to be.  Choose wisely.

I Am Not My Body: My Story

I am locked in a dark place, nowhere to turn, surrounded by demons. All I want is a glimmer of light, to see what is around me. But how do I escape? Where do I find light in a world where darkness rules? I am afraid for my life, waiting for the worst to happen. This may sound like the opening to a horror novel, but what I am describing is real. These feelings run through my mind on a weekly, if not daily, basis. What am I afraid of? Life itself.

Let's back up a little bit, to when I was seven years old. I didn't talk to anyone outside of my immediate family. Not my friends, my babysitter, not even my grandparents. These were all very friendly people. Why wouldn't I talk to them? Wrong question. Why couldn't I talk to them. I could hardly stop talking when it was just my siblings, parents, and me. The ability was there, but was the desire there?

That summer, at seven years old, my mom dragged me to Johns Hopkins for a study on generalized anxiety disorders, which is where I was diagnosed with selective mutism. Selective mutism is one of many forms of an anxiety disorder. The thing is, it is not selective. To select something means to choose something. I didn't ask to not talk to people. The desire to communicate was very strong, in fact. But something inside of me was telling me to keep silent. That's where the anxiety comes into play. My mind was telling me that it was wrong to talk. My seven year old brain accepted that without question.

As I'm sure you are all aware, the brain is a very important part of the body. Without it, one would not be able to feel, think, react. But when people think of mental disorders, they say it's just a bunch of garbage. Or that it is something one can get over. It will go away with time. You can't get over a mental disorder, but you can get through one.  For me, it took years of psychiatrists, therapists, and medications to get where I am now. I went from being a little boy afraid of his own voice to a man who has worked various customer service jobs, teaches Sunday school and Cub Scouts, and absolutely loves meeting new people.  

But what happens now? I am still on medication. I still see a psychiatrist. What has changed? Me. I have changed. I now understand that I can be what I want to be, to not be afraid. I will not be constrained because a part of my body tells me to shut up and hide. Don't get me wrong. The anxiety is still there. The fear still tries to manifest itself, but I push it back into the dark corners of my mind where it belongs.

This topic has become very important to me. In the past, it was easy for me to accept that I was different. While everyone else was up on their feet dancing, I was the wallflower trying to avoid eye contact. I'm still a wallflower, but I now beg for eye contact. I justified everything I did by telling myself it was normal for someone with anxiety to act in such ways, to hide and remain silent. But I am not anxiety. I am a 25-year old college student working to afford gas, just like the guy next door, or the girl down the road. My body tries to tell me what to be, but I am not my body. I am me.