Siggy's Blurbs: Siggy's Edge of Country …

The worst diagnosis I ever received was being considered mentally ill.  I had to fight for decades for my sanity.  I doubted my own mind.  I did not trust me.  And that is devastating when you do not even trust your own mind.  I had to understand me and also be able to rely on me.  The stigma my parents felt when I started breaking down became internalized.  I hated me every time I end up in a hospital or psychiatric ward.  The treatment I received was, also, devastating.  I was no longer treated as a citizen with all the rights due me.  I became a second class citizen with no civil rights.  They were all taken away from me because I broke down in a way society frowned upon.  It was not my fault.  Some people become drug addicts.  Some become alcoholics.  I was punished by the system because I was manic-depressive.  They would shoot me full of Thorazine to stamp out the mania which was not my fault.  I was stigmatized for being mentally ill.  I read everything I could to understand me and how to find a way I could exist in this society.  I do take medication now for my condition but all I do is take some pills in the morning and then evening and then forget about it.  I know who I am and like who I am.  I have learned to reach out to others.  I do not want others to go through the hell I did.  If reading this blog makes it a little easier for you on your journey I will be happy.  This is part 1 of this discussion.

Tags: hospital, mania, manic-depressive, mental illness, mentally ill, my parents, no civil rights, no longer treated as a citizen, psychiatric medications, psychiatric ward, reach out to others, stigma, Thorazine, trust your own mind
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An open letter to an young adult struggling with mental illness:

I am sorry you had to spend New Year’s in an hospital.  I pray you get the help you need in the hospital (and when you get out).  You hardly eating for several days did not help.  Medications can do strange things if you are not eating properly.

Unfortunately when you get diagnosed mentally ill and exhibit aberrant behavior like paranoia and psychosis others simply say you are “mentally ill” when the very drugs you are taking may be causing you those symptoms.  I can’t say for sure.

I still don’t think you are on the right medication.  You did well on one drug but it had an unfortunate side effect.  It is very difficult taking medication because you have to admit you have a problem.  After all these years I still don’t like I take medication.

I urge you not to go back to your parents.  It is not good for you.  Everything centers around a job.  You may not get there immediately.  Your independence.  Your residence.  Your ability to choose your own doctor.  Everything.  It is up to you.  You have to take more responsibility for your life.  It does not happen overnight.

You have to find a regiment of medication that helps you.  It is just an aid–no more.  You still have to help yourself.  When you become stable again please look for work.  Don’t expect others to take care of you.  You still have to take responsibility for your life.  The more you do so, the better you will feel about yourself.

Love

From one who went through it and wants to make the journey for another a little easier.

Tags: doctor, get a job, help yourself, hospital, independence, look for work, medication, mental illness, paranoia, parents, psychiatric drugs, psychosis, residence, take care of you, take responsibility for your life
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You don’t know how important your freedom is until it is taken away.  That is the one thing my friend would desire more than anything at all–his freedom.  Presently, he is in jail and has none.  I was never in jail but I do have some idea how it feels to have your freedom taken away.  When I was in an hospital, I had my freedom taken away so I know how it feels.  My friend does not have too much materially but that is the one thing–your freedom that you can’t put a price tag on until you lose it.

Tags: freedom, hospital, jail
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I decided to be satisfied with my three small cups of coffee this morning.  I still remember being in the hospital for two nights and requesting coffee with my meal.  They gave me decaf.  I drank it.  Now I was home and could serve myself anything I wanted.  I decided to be happy for the pleasure of making and serving myself morning coffee.  It seemed like it took forever for my meal in the hospital to arrive.  And someone (maybe a dietitian) decided real coffee was detrimental to my health. Oh, the pleasures of being home!

Tags: coffee, decaf coffee, hospital, morning coffee, pleasures of home, three small cups of coffee
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It is okay, sometimes, not to feel well.  You just work through it.  The fact is you usually do not feel perfect.  That is really a rare state.

If you wait to attain it, you miss out on too much.  So you have to avoid relying on your feelings that come and go.

My wife has been taking care of me for the last week.  I was operated on.  She made lots of trips to the hospital and it is almost fifty miles away.  She took really good care of me.

It was not a big thing; but I emptied the dishwasher and loaded it.  In the process, I started to feel slightly nauseous but decided to finish my task.  I don’t have to be prey to my moods.

Tags: don't be prey to moods, feelings come and go, hospital, my wife, okay not to feel well sometimes, operation, took good care of me
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I was thrilled when my wife gave me an old pair of camouflage sweats and an ragged old tee shirt in the hospital (and my cap).  I was tired of my gown which was slipping off all the time.  I put those clothes on immediately.  The nurses on the other shifts did not say two words about me not having their ubiquitous night gown on.  My clothes were now comfortable.  It was a small thing but it wasn’t.  One nurse even thought it was cool.  I don’t know why everyone has to wear those ugly gowns.  I just was so happy with my tee shirt and sweats.

Tags: hospital, my cap, my hospital gown, my wife, nurses, ragged old tee shirt, sweats, tee shirt and sweats
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Two nights in the hospital (I was in for a surgical procedure).  The beds were not too comfortable.  I barely slept.  I was in pain.  We had to get some scripts filled on our way home.

I could not wait to hit my comfortable bed.  I was out like a light for about eight hours.  I was completely exhausted.

I got up around six AM and made some “real” coffee.  The comforts of home!  I went outside to make sure the birds were taken care of–made sure all the bird feeders were full.  My day is ready to begin.

Tags: "real" coffee, barely slept, bird feeding, birds, hospital, in pain, my comfortable bed, surgical procedure, the comforts of home, thrilled to be home
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I try not to take anything for granted, even the shower I take.  For fifteen years the house I lived in had no shower.  I still remember that back then the big thing about staying in a motel was it would have a shower.

It is so easy to take your most basic freedoms for granted until you are in a situation when you lose them.  It happens in jails (which I never was in) or in hospitals.

I still remember although it was almost forty years ago I needed permission for almost everything.  To make a telephone call, to take a shower to take a walk, almost everything.

So I cherish my simple freedoms a little more although there are times I forget this.  Everything is by grace.  I keep coming back to this.  Everything is by grace.

Tags: basic freedoms, cherish simple freedoms, don't take anything for granted, everything-is-by-grace, forty years ago, God, hospital, jail, motel, need permission to make a telephone call, take a walk, taking a shower
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I never forgot his words.  He gave me back my life.  I had asked my doctor, “Do I have a right to a normal life, maybe to once get married, to have kids one day?”

His response was immediate, ”You have as much right as anyone else!”  I had struggled with a bipolar disorder for over twenty years and had been in and out of hospitals.  I had felt stigmatized by my diagnosis and treatment.  And had felt cursed by my illness.

His immediate response gave me back my life.  I did not know then that within ten years I would get married and two kids would soon follow.  I never forgot his answer.

Tags: bipolar disorder, diagnosis, doctor, felt cursed, gave me back my life, have kids, his answer, hospital, illness, married, mental health, my life, normal life, stigmatized, treatment, twenty years, words
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Why can’t people talk openly about death?  It is a mystery but so what.  Death claims us all.  The mortality rate is 100 per cent but no one wants to talk about it.

We act as if it is a curse.  When death occurs in a hospital, patients are just whisked away as if they were never there.  No one wants to die alone.  Dying has become very impersonal.  Thus the hospice movement.

All this is running through my mind when my kidney function worsened and my nephrologist said she might put in motion dialysis and I found out only one third of patients on dialysis survived five years and another said 20 per cent died the first year.

All of a sudden it looked as if I will never see seventy–much less the age my parents died (my Mom was eighty and my Dad was ninety).  I am sixty-one.

It has been three weeks since my last visit with my nephrologist and I was depressed.  I needed to talk about my condition but it was not so easy.  People do not talk openly about death except in passing at best.

I even had difficulty with those closest to me–my wife.  On one level we all know we are going to die but we act as if that is never going to happen.  I just asked for one thing:  I wanted to die with grace.  I just wanted to talk about it and there was no one.

Tags: 61 years old, act like we will never die, death, death is a mystery, depressed, dialysis, die alone, die with grace, difficulty talking about death, dying impersonal, hospice, hospital, kidney function, mortality, mortality rate 100 percent, my parents, my wife, needed to talk, nephrologist, no one to talk to, not a curse, patients whisked away, talk openly about death
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