Advocacy

We just watched the movie "Milk". It's based on a true story. The story of the gay movement in San Fransisco that was championed by Harvey Milk. It's a story of advocacy for something that you live with.

I live with mental illness. More specifically, I live with Bipolar II. Mental illness isn't uncommon. The center for addiction and mental health reports that 1 in 5 adults have, have had, or will have a diagnosable mental illness in their life time. 20% of the population. The human population. This isn't something that it centralized to a specific area or a specific socioeconomic group or a specific racial group. And if 20% is effected within their bodies, you can guarantee that at least 79% know somebody who has a mental illness. And yet, nobody talks about it.

When I was first diagnosed, we played guess and test with the medication. While it is not a lot of fun, it's currently the most effective way to figure out the right combination because every drug effects every person in a different manner. So what works to help somebody else control their bipolar, may not help for me. My diagnoses came because lithium was the first drug that worked to help control my symptoms. During this time my doctor kept asking if I had any family that suffered from mood disorders as some have a large genetic component. I kept saying no. After my maternal grandma heard my diagnoses, she revealed that there are quite a few in her family that who have bipolar or major depression. OMG! That could have been useful to know.

Talk about the mental health of your family. It's nothing to be ashamed of. If you are willing to say that you have heart disease or cancer in your family history, also include if there is bipolar, schizophrenia, autism, or any other mental condition.

After I came to terms that I'm living with bipolar, I have made a point of talking openly about it. I don't bring it up right away. I still worry about the predigest against mental health. Once I'm comfortable, I'm open about it. I have no problem saying that I'm having a bad day; no more than I would have saying that I had a cold. And the predigest that you worry about when you first meet somebody isn't really there. The fear can be debilitating but it isn't as real as you think it is. I've never had anybody run away or call me a monster. In fact, when my boss found out recently, she was surprised. I'm honest. I'm reliable. I'm hardworking. Not what she would have expected from somebody who lives with a mental illness. I don't fit the stereotype. Oops.

Now I'm slated to get one of the first PSDs in the city. It has been hard. While most people I've talked to are excited for me, the first common response is "I didn't know you could get a dog for that". I'm coming out of the closet in a very public way. I've always been open about it, but now, instead of educating a friend or co-worker, I'm going to doing public education. I'm going to be asked questions everywhere I go. And I need to be okay with that. I don't always have to answer but I need to be okay with the fact that people are going to have questions.

I want to be part of this next revolution. The women got the vote. The gays got to be understood and accepted. And now it's time for mental health to become visible, exposed, understood, and accepted. And it's not a disability. It's just a different way of being. Mental health is not something to hide. Somebody who carries these labels can be a viable member of society.

I want to be part of the voice to make this happen.

Now I just have to figure out how.