Day of Life 2018
Originally posted on November 20, 2018.
For those of you who have been friends with me for a while, this post will be a familiar one. For the last four years, I have celebrated life on November 20 with all of you through social media, because on November 20, 2007 I attempted suicide. I'm eleven years on now and I'm happy to share this day with you!
The reason I share my story, and my battle with bipolar, is simple--I am fortunate enough to have an incredible support system, ranging from my family to my girlfriend, from my ultimate teams and friends to my boss and coworkers. Not everyone who battles mental illness has a support system like this. Unfortunately, even with major steps taken in the last five or so years, mental illness remains stigmatized in our world today. I have heard from countless people after sharing this post each year who have their own battle. It's inspiring to speak with so many powerful warriors, and it is devastating to hear all the stories of people who keep their fight to themselves, fearing a lack of support, fearing those they love looking at them differently, or being unable to access the professional medical care they need due to a lack of resources, both financially and in their community. My hope is that through sharing my personal story, people who read this post will reach a better understanding of mental illness--what it is, how to support those around you, what advocacy looks like.
What can you do? How can you help someone in your life who fights mental illness? You can educate yourself on mental illness in general, and about their fight specifically. I've shared in previous posts that one of the scariest things for me is that I cannot know for sure what your reaction to hearing my story will be. I'm a goofy, hyper, ridiculous person. The next time I am jamming out to a boombox on an ultimate sideline, it won't be mania. It'll be me. I'm nostalgic and empathic all the time. The next time I'm all sorts of weepy about a friendship or an episode of Pokemon (Bye Bye Butterfree really gets to me...), it's not me depressed. It's just that I'm a big softy. I want people to know and love me, not see some actions and think, "whoa, that dude really IS bipolar!" The flip side is, of course, that I really battle this daily. Depression makes it nearly impossible to get out of bed some days. Mania forces me to lock on to thoughts and tasks, none of which I am able to choose. Sometimes it's a superpower, other times I am pretty much ready to join Nick Cage in his single-minded search for the map on the back of the Declaration of Independence. Anxiety makes me feel like an imposter as a coach and coworker, and makes me terrified that those close to me don't actually care for me in the same way I care about them. All of these things suck brutally. What makes bipolar so dangerous is when these three things start to combine with each other. Anxiety can feed depression, make it last longer and give it an edge it might not otherwise have. If someone has their mania lock on to their depression or anxiety, well, that's dangerous. That's life-threatening. And it can happen any time, for no rhyme or reason. Because of the mania pushing the simmering darkness of depression and anxiety into action, up to 60% of those who suffer from bipolar will attempt suicide at some point, and up to 19% will commit suicide. It's more likely I lose my fight to bipolar than dying almost any other way.
That's really scary. And I need help to deal with that. I need medical treatment, because it's a physical ailment, a chemical imbalance in my brain. The trouble with that is the lack of available resources in my area. Despite PA rating relatively high in mental health care providers, I have had to wait over a month for access to a psychiatrist before, and I know of others who have waited even longer. Tragically, the situation is even more dire for veterans. The way forward for us includes adjustments in policy. But it starts with stigma being torn down. Both in a democracy and a capitalist society, the demand is heard. The squeaky wheel gets the grease. But we need our friends and family to help us advocate, to make the demand clear. And to advocate, we need for you to be educated.
So! Here are some of my old posts:
I hope you find something in there, or in today's post, that helps you better understand me. Please consider donating $11, or some other amount, to American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. Thank you for celebrating 11 years After with me!
And for those of you who are fighting your own battle: you are not alone. People say that shit all the time but really. You aren't. So many of us are fighting alongside you. Feel free to message me anytime, and more importantly seek professional care. It's critical. You are strong and powerful. Fight on.