More than 48 million people in this country have some form of mental illness. Yet only around half of those people get treatment.

Why?

For many, the stigma associated with mental illness creates and/or compounds feelings of shame, isolation and fear of exposure.

You see, stigma is caused by either the wrong information (misperception), or no information at all (ignorance). Either one of which can cause a tremendous amount of fear, which is really what stigma is. Stigma = fear.

The good news is - stigma can be conquered. How? By those with a mental illness sharing their stories.  And by those without an illness - listening and learning.




When did you know you had a mental illness? How did you feel after you were diagnosed? Did you tell people about your illness? How did they respond? How do you cope with stigma? How has treatment helped you? What is your message of hope for people like you?



 

   

 

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Shaw  - Dethroning the king, buger king that is, how dare Mar 10, 2010, 07:34 am

 

Below is a letter which consists of the grievances of my fellow friends in battle with burger king's new commercial depicting a person who has been diagnosed with mental illness as "insane". Well, to you my fellow comrades enjoy, because stigma is coming to an end as I go after them one by one. It must stop, for this is not a comical thing. I shall in the future, however, share my story. That is not important at this time for their are ones that make my story seem like a ONE NIGHT COMICAL MIC STAND.



Dear burger king,

OOPS... I MADE A BIG MISTAKE THERE; I MEANT, HELLO IGNORANT :-) YES I SAID IT, IGNORANT :-), HERE IS A LETTER TO WAKE YOU UP OUT OF THAT RIDICULOUS DREAM, THAT SOMEONE WITH A MENTAL ILLNESS IS INSANE FOR YOUR BURGER OR IS PLAIN INSANE. I SAY, WAKE UP, WAKE UP WAKE UP.

OOPS... IT WAS MY MISTAKE THERE AGAIN, MY FAULT, I FORGOT I HAVE TO TEACH YOU IGNORANT FIRST. AT LEAST I ACKNOWLEDGE THE MISTAKES I MADE.
So you think people are insane for your burger? Hahahaha... I would rather think that they end up that way after having it your way, at whatever stop you are at. I mean aren’t you ashamed of the fact that when people eat your burgers that brain cells are damaged and so are organs, muscles, tissues, and systems. One loses self esteem eating your burger because of all the chemicals in them, so while you think or may portray they are having it their way, I would rather say not. Because in comes low self esteem, that leads to depression, and suicidal thoughts, that may lead to an attempt which is successful. So what does this show. Let me break it down for you crawling babies. It means that people don’t get to have it their way at burger king because your king, yeah right king, hahahaha, is a communist. He controls people with your so called fresh burgers and drive them insane when they can’t choose burger or perfect health. Your burgers are basically crack and no one has it their way to crack, they just have to succumb to it because it eases the pain for a short while, and bring short happiness. But as soon as it wears off, it’s back to eating, being “crazy”. So the king gets what he wants, make them addicted, turn them into fools, and soon they will be chasing after him for because he controls them, they are now “insane”, basically addicted. So, what does this mean. This means that burger king’s motto should read, “Have it the king’s way because he has a Cheap, Cheap, Cheap Way of Robbing You of Your Money and Health”

Now might I add that someone that is diagnosed with mental illness is not defined by their diagnosis. Furthermore, they are far from being “crazy” or “insane” which you have depicted in that commercial. Have you ever heard of Albert Einstein or is it that you make your burgers in the dark. WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP, he had a mental illness. Or should I mention those celebrities that you use to make your burger seem so refreshingly delicious and good for everyone who eats a burger at burger king. I now call you liars. For they did not get that skinny eating those burgers, nor did they remain that size. Those individuals only do it for the money because if they would caught dead sufficing their body for a baby and you try to portray it for your burgers. Yet you believe me to believe that and eat your burger…hahahaha…I must laugh. Once again anything to make your so call “king reign”. And might I add a person diagnose with mental illness is more likely to avoid your chain, because he or she is smart enough to know to do so and knowing what your burger does without research, they would rather wear a shirt begging people not to eat burger king’s(Oh I refuse to capitalize your name in my letter which is what you do to innocent people) burger than one that says help me get through today. Because that is how we are helpful of another human being, having a smart way of doing so, and just like me, avoiding your nasty and yes I said it, NASTY burgers. I think you should add to that commercial how the king fed the individuals you portrayed in the commercial on his addicted burgers after they caught up to him and being mentally ill, they found out what is the problem. The king of course, so they made a divorce. And might I add they did not kill him, because murders aren’t we, they went into talking him into being democratic and why it is better than being a communist.
As a result of that, No one in life will be later insane because of burger king’s communist king. Cut…Yes I think that is the truthful and perfect commercial, One take and it is over. Because really no acting is being done, but the truth; and I know you want to turn a head and burn this paper, but do think why people keep on eating your communist king’s burger and you are making money. Money enough to create such a ignorant commercial. However, like all communists, he doesn’t care for the richer and richer he gets and fooling the people they are having it their way, you think this is very much of a genius act but sorry….hahahaha…not enough for this student, sister, niece, and daughter. Try again, because the ones I write this letter on behalf of is not fooled either. Let me introduce you to a genius.

burger king, burger king
You think you have people fooled
But not this one
You fool
OOPS…I called you a name
Sorry, I sincerely apologize
I wonder do you have the same in mind
To correct all those minds you have further distorted
Confusion is on the horizon
Try kneeling on the knees
Saying Father, I am sorry for the wrong I did
I will definitely try my BEST
To correct it

See to have a calling as a chain of kings
Have to answer to Him
When you destroy His people
Send them to an early grave
And thinking
It’s all right
For money, money, money
I am so rich
HAHAHAHA
One has to laugh
Because I know you are not blind
I see Paris Hilton on the car
Trying to make your burger sexier than all
No matter how you dress it up
If one continues to eat your burger
They are going to fall
And might I remind you of Karma
It is not a threat
But nature
Feed one poison
And you are going to end up being poisoned
Bankruptcy maybe
Who knows
But it is Him that you’re going to have to answer to
Ooooh…I feel hot, hot and hotter
Or is that nice cool air
You make the choice
Reverse the wrong
For you I have this strong message
Someone diagnose with a mental illness is not insane
They are smart
And find marvelous ways to deal with it
But in no way
As smart as they can be
Would they run after a communist king like a “fool”
Now I can say those too wonderful words
WAKE UP, you fool
OOPS…I called you that name again
I think I may just not understand your trend
Hahahahahaha
Yeah right
I must apologize
WAKE UP
I know you are no longer blind, sleeping, or lost
If so
Search up for the lyrics to amazing grace
For it sure would be a “sweet sound” hear you admit your wrongs
And do something about it
Causing frowns from town to town
To Change to a smile
It’s not just the king whole deserves happiness
I think it is time fo the people to truly have it their way
Don’t your upside down face agree
HAHAHAHAHA
“Who laughs last, laughs best”
Don’t you agree


 

cool_trek1  - My story Feb 26, 2010, 12:14 pm

 

My story isn't so dramatic as most, in fact most people don't really know that I suffer from depression. Such is the weight of the stigma I observe from a distance - the distance from which I view everyone and everything. As a child, I clearly exhibited signs of needing help, of crying out against these feelings of sadness and grief and was always met with a "You'll be fine" attitude from my parents. And when other people talked about mental illness, my mom looked down on them or said, "Not my kids." Even when some of my teachers tried to step in, my mom said no. And then as a teen when things got worse and as a college kid when things got unamanageable and I sought out my family... I was met with rejection, with ridicule, with disbelief with incredible amounts of denial and fear. No, not my child.
So, my depression is a story of survival and loneliness. I scrape money to see my counselor each week, in secret really because only a few people know about my "secret illness." I do my best to cope, to take care of myself, and lean on the everlasting arms of God. Without Christ, I would not be here now. Only grace and mercy sustain me until I find my way out of this hellhole known as depression...

 

Mikkilee  - Psychopathology Feb 25, 2010, 12:42 pm

 

As we know from reading the statistics provided by this website, a number of children are suffering with this disease. I started blogging my experiences of trying to save my own daughter to no avail. She was pumped up with adult meds starting a age 9. She had been in and out of hospitals until the age of 18 when she walked out of her group home.nThey were supposed to of kept her safe. Instead they counseled her on how to get over her illness, despite the severity of it. They were supposed to have kept her safe. After 3 years of homelessness, starving at times, multiple rapes, she is presently incarcerated. I was fortunate to see Bring Change 2 minds and I knew then that fighting the stigma of this illness was now mine. I will not ever be ok seeing another life taken by this illness and remaining quiet is not an option.

 

JerseySweety  - My Story Feb 24, 2010, 02:54 pm

 

Hello to all I want to share with you all of my story battling with depression and my mental illness I have already share my story on a amazing site where I have great friends at and they encourage me too tell it on here so here I am :D I am 100% ready to tell you all this part of my life that I've kept hidden from some friends and some family members. My Name is Katiria and I have depression and schizoaffected disorder I was diagnose with my mental illness the year 2002 the beginning of September I was only 21 years old at that time and I was taking my secound year semaster in collage but I was struggling with my mental illness a whole year before on 2001 after 911 that whole year I was battling with depression and my mental illness I did not tell my parants what I was going through because of the stigma of mental illness I didn't want nobody too now and I didn't want nobody too think negatively about me I was in complete denial of my mental illness as well I just thought that it was nothing that I was just going through some stress because of collage work and what happen on 911 but I found out the hard way that stress wasn't the only cause on what I was going through during one of my collage classes I started hearing voces in my head, having hallucination and thinking suicidal thought's in class and at that momment I now I had to get help when I was done with all my classes for that day I told my mom what I was going through and that I needed to go see a psychologist she got really worried to see me like in that state of mind so she started to look for psychologist near where we live at and make an emergency appt so the dr can see me right away but all of them said they were booked and the had no appt available until in a month or so that just crushed me more and made me feel and think more worst the next day was the worst day of my life I tried too take my own life thank god for my family too finally convincing me to go too the hospital because I didn't want to go to the er because I didn't want the dr and nurses to see me like that so they can think negatively about me to see a young girl that didn't care for her own life which I really do care for my life it was just I couldn't take hearing the vocies,hallucination and the suicidal thoughts anymore I just wanted it to all stop!, it was kindy of rocky in the beginning when I got too the hospital but I got the help I really needed and I thank god everyday for that and for saving my life I have been truly blessed too meet great psychologist, psychiatrist and group therpy who help me understand my mentall illness more better and that I was not alone in this either and medication well help me feel more better which now today I am doing much better I still struggle with depression but my medication always help me with it. And thank god for the support of my whole family, church family and my best friend that help me and supported me through the whole struggle and ordeal when I was going through my deep depression at that time and there are still and always be here for me no matter what I am very very grateful and thankful for that true blessing that god has sent me.My father also suffers with depression and some of my family members do too but we all know that it is ok to have mental illness and too accept it :D thank you all for reading my story I hope and pray my story has help and reach to any of you take care and god bless you all :D

 

The RedHeaded Rambler  - My Story for Bring Change 2 Mind Feb 21, 2010, 10:51 pm

 

My Story for BringChange2Mind

I was urged to post my article directly on this site after originally posting it on Facebook. So here it is.

February has been proclaimed national “Share your Story Month” by Bring Change 2 Mind. A wonderful organization that has brought those who suffer with mental illnesses and their loved ones “out of the closet” if you will to share their stories. Its a very good thing that has helped people come out of their bubbles and realize that they are not alone. It helps us to heal, it helps us to learn from each other, it brings national attention to mental illnesses to defeat its stigma and all the good that will come from that. So in the spirit of the occasion I will now share mine as best I can.

So metaphorically speaking, I stand before you and the World to say, “I am Mike and I have ADHD, GAD, and Depression and I while I am not proud of this fact, I am NO LONGER ashamed of this fact anymore. This is my story which I give in hopes that it will in some way help others”.

As far back as I my conscious memory goes, I have always been a high strung person who needlessly worried and got worked up over nothing. Always scared of what was coming up around the bend, I always expected and prepared for the worst as though it were inevitable. Hell, I remember fifth grade, one of the years I was a straight A student, having anxiety attacks the night before the last day of school, because I was terrified that I would be held back !!

It has been a relief to me to learn that I am not unique among those who are effected by ADHD in that social skills do not come easily for me. This difficulty caused my grade school-high school years to be very hard. I was forever being picked on, some incidents are quite dramatic and clearly etched in my mind for the emotional turmoil it caused. While I was never a "bad kid" who was forever acting-up, seems like two or three times a year, one or many kids would pick on me till I could not take it anymore, resulting in the inevitable scuffle. But even in adult life, my struggles with social skills has caused me some difficulty.

But as far as my condition is concerned, things did not really starting serious until college. My anxiety knew no bounds and started effecting my ability to function. My pessimistic outlook and worry-wart ways drove my friends to tears of annoyance and even as early as sophomore year people were telling me (usually not so nicely) that I needed medication. But I never seriously listened because it was usually said in anger and not out of genuine concern. So I let it go in one ear and out the other. That was until.....

Until my Army National Guard unit was called to active duty three weeks after the 9-11 tragedy. We were stationed stateside as part of Operation Noble Eagle I homeland defense operations for a year. Nothing too crazy, in fact more days were agonizingly boring than not. BUT that whole year was full of uncertainty and frustration. Since the Army was writing or rewriting the book on homeland security operations, things were forever changing. Also the military was in the preliminary planning stages not only of domestic security, but also the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq. So we kept being told our tour was going to be extended, shortened, that we were going to be prepping for an overseas mission, and on and on an on. I was literally told by the same officer that we were going home in five days, then that its changed and we are going Iraq, and that we'd be on our current mission for at least two and a half years, back to “we still don't know”, all in the same day. When you start messing with people's emotions with that even a mentally strong soldier will inevitably start to get rattled. And guys were starting to have mental break downs so often, you really never knew who was going to snap next. But without question I was among those who struggled the worst. So much so that my platoon sergeant ordered me to get some counseling out of genuine concern for my well being.

The stress of the uncertainty and constant back and forth of the status of our deployment had caused me to crack. I had a very dramatic stress breakdown one night where I spent three hours screaming obscenities while smashing my head into an actual brick wall outside the barracks and leaping into the air to more forcefully drive my face into the ground. God bless my squad leader, he was eventually able to get through to me, calm me down, and help me regain my composure. But I was never the same and over time became unable to sleep and developed a nervous tick. So the platoon sergeant ordered me to get counseling. So I reluctantly visited the post physiologist. However even in that degenerated state, I could see a mile a way that the Army's mental health program was designed solely to weed-out the soldiers it felt could no longer be trusted with a rifle. Anyone who went there for treatment had to be escorted and the waiting room was guarded by a big menacingly looking NCO. No way I was going to honestly answer any questions the over-worked and obviously fatigued Army physiologist asked me.

After a couple hours I finally see the man and he asks my why I am here. I simply tell him that the stress of things had made it impossible for me to sleep and the lack of sleep is making me very grouchy. That's about all I told him other than my name, rank, unit, and ssn. Just like we'd been told to do if we ever became POW's in hindsight !! So he gets tired of this and simply tells me to cut down on the drinking, schedules me for an anger management seminar, and suggests taking Benadryl to help sleep better, then sends me on my way. But on that day I made a promise to myself that I would seriously get help when I came home to stay. Also as luck would have it, two days later we FINALLY got orders to demobilize that did not change and went home three weeks after that. By that time, I don't think anyone really believed we were demobilizing until the first sergeant dismissed us after the final formation.

Now please do not misunderstand me. I don't blame the Army for my problems. I was a soldier, there to do a job with an organization I VOLUNTARILY joined. As the third generation of my family to serve in the Army, I knew full well that Army life would not be all sunshine and rainbows. I knew that one day the green mother would call on me to make sacrifices and endure hardships in the name of protecting this great country. I also know that what little I sacrificed, pales in comparison to the sacrifices the brave young men and women of America's Armed Forces are enduring today as they fight and die in overseas conflicts and I hold them in great respect and reverence.

Anyhow getting back on topic I did get help, several months after we returned to civilian life. It took me a while but I finally got enough courage to seek the advice of a general physician. He started me on anti-depressants. This was late 2002 and the available medications were primitive compared to what's on the market today. I must have tried a half dozen different ones over the course of the next year, all with quite brutal side effects. Everything from your basic diarrhea to the sensation of being electrically shocked at the base of my head. So while I was happy with the overall benefits I got from them, I could not stand the painful side effects, and quit taking them after two years. I figured I'd just “take it like a man”, suck it up, and get on with my life. After all, I had just decided to quit working full time in order to finish my last year of college. I didn't have time to sit and mope or feel sorry for myself, I had to kick the engine into high gear and get things done.

Upon graduating college I moved home for a year and a half. It was the first time in six years I'd returned home for longer than 2 weeks in nearly 6 years. Mom and Dad took notice of my anxiety and increased irritability and about 8 months into my stay started asking to consider going back on medication. But I had been down that road once before and the thought of enduring those harsh side effects was unbearable. So I resisted until the company I was working for laid me off. The worry and humiliation of this became so overwhelming that I started having anxiety attacks again. I'd shiver uncontrollably like I was naked in a snow storm despite laying beneath a half dozen blankets. So I went to the doctor and started antidepressants again. This time there was a new medication that was far more effective with no noticeable side effects. It worked and for a few more years I thought the problem was fixed.

That was until three years ago when my general physician told me he couldn't increase the dose anymore and that he feared my condition was more serious than he was qualified to deal with, and referred me to a psychiatrist. By this time I had moved back to Columbus, Oh and was living on my own.

The psychiatrist reviewed my charts and simply increased the dosage. But it didn't help me that much. But I dealt with it because I didn't know what else to do. But early this past spring a combination of increased stress at work and dramatically increased stress in my family life started pushing me into anxiety attacks again. I was always intensely grouchy and I'd lash-out at even the most trivial things. But it was the mood swings that started to get my attention. Still I resisted because in hindsight I realized I had a bunker mentality. My family and I were definitely not seeing eye to eye with each other last spring and arguing constantly. I was also bickering with my friends an awful lot and all but one couple had started withdrawing from me. Every time a friend or family member and I had tense conversation, they'd repeatedly ask if I was still taking my medication. Since I felt like everyone was dismissing me because I was on antidepressants, I quit taking them, and things went from bad to worse almost overnight.

Eventually my parents and I fought each other to a standstill and we established a tense peace in our fighting. Dad drove down to see me under a flag of truce to talk about things. Through this we were able to clear the air and the hostilities that had been developed due to misunderstandings. I realized that Mom and Dad were asking about my medicines because they were legitimately concerned for my welfare; so I relented and started taking the pills again.

I also went back to my shrink to discuss the mood swings that had started to really frighten me. I could go from white hot anger to down in the dumps depression inside of five minutes or pure jubilation to being overwhelmed with anxiety in a quarter of an hour. People around me were always walking on eggs because they never knew which Mike they were going to get from one minute to the next. You just never knew if I was going to want to hug you or fight you. Think we're on the road to the land of sunshine and rainbows ? Guess again. The doctor took all of ten minutes to diagnose me as bi-polar, write out a script for some additional anxiety medications and bipolar pills and a month later doubled the dosage.

The problem that I did not know was that I wasn't actually bi-polar. These pills had the effect of tranquilizing me. This was only compounded by the fact that I switched from eight hour shifts to twelve hour shifts at work. I could barely make it through the day and suddenly, for the first time in my life, I was getting into trouble with my employer for missing too much work. I was days away from giving-up and starting the paperwork for disability. This thought filled me with deep depression and despair, despite the large dosages of pills. Whether it was the feeling that doing this would be letting my family down or a small sliver of self pride I don't know but I decided I could not give-in without getting a second or even third opinion. This is where I believe the hand of God, who was always there, started getting quite noticeably involved. God sent two angles into my family's and I's life who have changed out lives for the better. One in the form an organization and the second in the form of a doctor into my

The organization that he sent was NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illnesses). During the course of all these events I had heard one of their radio ads while driving home from work one night. So I called them up and the compassionate angel who answered the phone, spent two hours talking to me. She helped answer all these questions I had been scared to ask since I first started looking for help. Everything from medical laws (I'd always been terrified that if I said the wrong thing they'd take me away to an 1800's style insane asylum), what kinds of treatment options to consider, support groups, and above all what to expect from a good psychiatrist and assure me that it was normal for people with mental illnesses to get a second opinion and that I wouldn't be offending my old doctor by doing so. Amazingly enough my mother made a surprise visit to check on me the next day because they were still extremely worried. I told her about this great organization I'd just learned of and to she gave me a funny look. Apparently she and Dad had heard a similar radio ad and were planning on attending a support group meeting run by NAMI later that week ! NAMI's support group has been an immense help to my parents in terms of understanding the complex nature of mental illnesses as well as providing an emotional support group for them where they can share their experiences and problems with others who understand what they are going through.

With new found courage I started contacting mental health treatment facilities. If you live in Central Ohio and you ever feel you are alone in your struggles with mental illness try to change psychiatrists and see how quickly you can get an appointment. I must have called close to a dozen offices and none save one could get me in any sooner than four months out. That one was able to get me an appointment in three weeks. That alone made me suspicious but I thought I'd go see what he had to say. Turns out this man aka Dr. Martin was probably the one person with the experience and knowledge in Central Ohio who could help me. After having me fill out a grueling five page single spaced questionnaire and a 90 minute interview he looked me straight in the eye and said “Mike I can get you feeling better within six weeks and fully normal in six months”. That got my attention. He then went on to explain that I was not bipolar, I was ADHD with depression. WHAT ? I said.

He went on to explain how ADHD exists in adults but few psychiatrists have been trained on how dopamine levels can have an effect on the brain though they know almost too much about how serotonin levels work. Drew a picture of the brain and started explaining the physiology of the condition. A combination of rigorous exercise, antidepressants, and stimulants and six weeks later, at our follow-up appointment, I happily admitted he was right !! It hasn't been easy and I suffer set backs and bad days from time to time. But six months as of this February my family and I both agree that Dr. Martin made good on his second statement.

I'm still unsure about a lot of things and feel that I still have some work to do in terms of my recovery. However, I do know that thanks to the help this man has provided I am in a much better place mentally, emotionally, and spiritually than I've been in at least eight years. My employer has noticed the change, several managers have complimented me on my improved attitude and rewarded this by giving me increased leadership opportunities and chances to help with employee performance development, something that I've long since expressed a strong interest in. I'm managing my finances much better, I'm staying on top of my cleaning chores, and all those other aspects of my life that I've always struggled with. The understanding of my condition and its tendencies have helped me get over my long held belief that I am in some way inferior to others. I am not lazy, dumb, or stupid, I'm just different. Mental illness is not an excuse and I'll never belittle others who are afflicted with a mental illnesses by blaming my condition for my actions. But it does help me understand who I am and why I am that way. Its unlocked a lot of long unsolved mysteries about my past and about my habits.

I will always be guarded in terms of how I view the future. Like so many of my fellow wounded birds who've shared their stories here, life has sucker punched me more than a few times. But for once in my life, I feel that if I can keep my guard up and my focus square on my recovery, that opportunities for better things in my life can come along and that it won't all be clouds and rainstorms all the time. I am so thankful to God for the people he's put into my life these past several months and how he's been able to help me through such angles as Dr. Martin and the good people of NAMI.

One last thing I want to mention. As you can infer from this story, I'm very grateful to my parents for helping me through all this. I certainly am extremely grateful to them for their love and support. While I still have a ways to go, I would never have made it this far without them. I'd also be remiss if failed to mention a husband-wife couple who've been friends of mine for going on eight years now. Even at my worst, they never stopped being my friends, never stopped praying for me, never stopped reaching out to me. The wife has had her own serious struggles with mental illnesses and one of their sons deals with ADD as well. They've been very open about sharing their experiences with me as well as providing insight and information they've learned from life's school of hard knocks. I owe them a great deal for this.


 

lindadesosa  - re: Questions About a Sibling Feb 21, 2010, 03:38 pm

 

Many children who are bipolar were incorrectly identified as ADD. The rages may be similar, but the causes are different.

 

lindadesosa Feb 21, 2010, 03:36 pm

 

I have suffered suicidal depression for 17 years, but it has been controlled with Paxil for 15 years. That gave me one side of the issue. Then, I learned about the other side when, 16 years ago, my bipolar fiance died by suicide from PTSD from Vietnam. He had been told to buck up and be a man.

My third son was violently bipolar and caused all kinds of issues. I refused to give up on him. He self medicated with weed and raged and tried to kill me over and over, nearly succeeding once. He threw chairs at teachers and jumped out of school buses and was arrested multiple times. A good friend was killed by police at 16 and others were jailed repeatedly. He stole from me constantly, anything from videos to sell for money to my car to drive himself around (at 14). The police targeted him and beat him and broke into our house 3 times without a warrant. At 16, he dropped out of high school. I fought with insurance companies about rehab and the schools about special education, educated the juvenile judges about mental illness, and forced the psychiatrist to do further testing after insisting he consider that bipolar disorder might be the problem. The doctor apologized to me after the test results came back and told me I had been a better doctor than him. Really, I had just recognized the symptoms from dealing with my fiancé and didn’t believe that bipolar could somehow magically started at 18 – that it could be a child’s disease. They have finally recognized that.
Unfortunately, this son too had been conditioned against the perceived stigma of taking meds. Fortunately, he found God and through sheer will and love, returned to school, graduated from college, and is now a successful manager at the age of 22.

Then, on Christmas morning 2009, my precious oldest son, Michael, a remarkable and brilliant 28 year old man with many incredible gifts and an overwhelming number of friends, succumbed to the demons of his depression and leapt off a 10 story bridge to the pavement below, still wearing his Santa hat from the party he attended on Christmas Eve. He had taken meds 6 years ago and they stopped his suicidal ideation. But he thought he was smart enough to figure it out on his own and stopped. Tragically.

The demons of depression are very powerful. You need to ask for help and we need to get rid of the stigma for doing that. Depression is an illness, not a weakness.

I created this memorial video for my son:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=48xkDbB_oJc

Linda

 

rlusk Feb 21, 2010, 11:42 am

 

I don't know where to start so I'll just start from my beginning. I've always been someone who has always been down and depressed but I had never noticed or payed attention to why. Nor did I notice the other extremes in the manic episodes. When I went to college I started seeing a counselor and he recommended that I go and get an anti-depressant. This was a good step for me, except for the fact that this brought out the extreme manic episodes I was finally diagnosed as manic-depressive, or bi-polar. It was the start of a long journey, I tried every medication on the market trying to find one that would work. We weren't having much luck. I then changed jobs and lost my insurance which caused me to quit seeing my doctors and counselors and go off my medications. I then made several decisions to move and change jobs landing me back at home. It was a long rough summer that eventually caused me to try and commit suicide. I was hospitalized and have been put back on medications. I'm doing much better now, but that doesn't mean that my life is easy. Each day is a struggle, some are better than others, but I have faith that I can make it through. I was at work the other day when some of my coworkers started talking about how bad it would be to be bipolar. I wasn't brave enough to stand up and say anything, but I will now. Depression and other mental illnesses run in my family heavily, but I know that if we all are here for each other and defend our good names from stigmas that we will all make it through. My name is Ray, and I have a mental illness.

 

c.hyde  - my story Feb 21, 2010, 06:20 am

 

I am not sure where to start, but I'll share a little about me. I am 33 years old, I work, I'm a wife and a mom. I have been diagnosed with anxiety and depression, but if people only knew. My life is filled with secrets. My dad has PTSD from the Vietnam War, and a plane crashed into his office 18 years ago and he hasn't been as available since. My baby brother, who was always shy and nervous, who is now 30, has scizophrenia. Just like my uncle, who was only 6 years older than myself, and started his symptoms when he was living with me in seventh grade. I have seen suicide attempts, mania, severe depression, and helped to keep relatives safe from hurting themselves or others. And I can talk about the alcohol or drugs another day.
My life is full of secrets. But most recently, my sister was in an accident. Its is so terrible to worry about so many people when the one I should be worried about is her, and myself. But you know, there are fundraisers for her, sympathy and visitors. Tolerance and compassion. Tears and love. Where ARE those qualities for the rest of those who are having moments of being run down or criticall sick mentally?? :angry-red: I vow to change this.

 

JBrown78 Feb 20, 2010, 04:51 pm

 

I am so Happy to have found this site I have a 9yr old son that was diagnosed with ADHD and also ODD over a year ago it has been an uphill battle and we have really had a hard time educating him and getting him to understand that he is not stupid or abnormal because of these disorders its so frustrating as a parent because as a single mother bringing someone into my life as a partner that doesnt understand his condition and that looks at him as a bad kid is quite challenging. I have been with my current partner for 1yr 1/2 and it has been quite a strain on our relationship because of the problems that he has but through lots of prayer and positive reinforcement we are making it through the storm. I just want to thank Bring change 2 mind for educating us as parents and giving us a place to tell our story and not feel alone.

 

happymomx5  - Finally feelin betterr Feb 19, 2010, 11:52 am

 

I am so grateful for this website and PSA. I saw it and I had felt like something was different about me but was not sure what. I have five children and they all see a thearpist and have some mental health issues as well. Their case manager said they cannot feel better enless you feel better. She explained it was like having a hurt foot or a cold, you have to take care of it. Really made me think, then I saw this commercial and I made the call. I got on some meds and see a thearpist once a week. I finally found out I have bipolor II and GAD, probably a little PTSD as well. But I just feel so much better! My highs and lows are not nearly as bad thus far. My lows I do have my days that are really low but not nearly as much. I am just so thankful for this website and now I see that it's not just me, wow 1 in 6 have a mental illness. I still struggle, do not like to go around people too much and have trust issues but we are working on it, I can work on it now that I know what "it" is. I just wish there were more support groups out there. Anyway..that's my story.

 

MissingMyBrother  - Questions About a Sibling Feb 19, 2010, 11:41 am

 

Hello! I saw a commercial for this site the other day and thought I'd write to find out if anyone has any thoughts about my story.

After two years of not speaking to our family, my brother finally contacted my mother. He is 27 years old and was diagnosed with ADD during his first years of school. We were able to find out bits and pieces of what has transpired during this passed two years from his wife and friends. He's getting divorced, he's lost his home and truck to foreclosure/reposession, he's had odd thoughts on religion (he use to be extremely involved in church but now feels betrayed by family, religion, friends), he feels things are posessed, he talks to himself, laughs to himself, and makes odd facial gestures. He literally cannot remember anything. He's lost his glasses, his wallet, his phone, his clothing, his toothbrush, you name it. He has not worked in three years and was fired from his last job basically for being VERY confrontational with people. He's just gone a little "weird" for lack of a better more respectful word.

It's as if my brother has shut off from reality. He says he wants to get a job, etc., but yet when approached about it he won't discuss it. He refuses to discuss what happened in the last two years. His wife is a mess as well and has difficulty talking about it also. It's just a huge mystery. All we know is that he's not himself at all. It's as if he's had some sort of psychotic break or something.

Thoughts? We have applied for insurance for my brother to get him into counseling and perhaps on some mood stabilizing medication.

Thanks for reading...and listening. :)

 

famnicage  - a gift from god Feb 19, 2010, 02:37 am

 

when i was young as five and my new sister was born something inside me changed.I tried suffocating her and even broke her arm all before she was one and got a good beating for it to.as i grew older i would lie and steal and have these freak outs for no reason yet noone noticed, they just punished me accordingly.when i ws thirteen my father beat me so bad you could not recognize me and they kept me home from school until i finally had to go and my father turned himself in for it.i was a horrible mouthy,moody,selfish child and he just snapped.my behavoir as i became older just got worse no meds would help no counseling until when i was 30 when i was confronted by my employer about stealing from him.then it was liek the gates of heaven had opened and god himself freed me of everything.i could finally admit that i thought i had a split personality i/noone would ever believe that i had this dark secret of stealing and emotional overloads and attacks.i was finally diagnosed with bipolar diosrder which unfortunately noone seems to understand.it took being arrested and becoming a convicted felon to get the treatment i so needed for years and myself and noone could diagnose the problem.i have 3 children and a wonderful husband who stuck by me through it all and now at 34 are still here even though it is a hard diagnosis to control or level out it seems.i thank god that i was caught,unfortunatley it has cost me alot for my family and friends and the other people involved.i wish their was better education and it was an easier didease to diagnose and i could have been helped sooner than later.

 

Hope  - bipolar recovery Feb 18, 2010, 10:38 am

 

I suffered with bipolar for 14 years and managed to recover and live wholesome life for the past 10 years. Yes, there is no cure, but the illness can be managed with proper med/doctor/family/spirituality. I finished my Ph.D. and working for 6 years at the same company and have a family. There is hope. I just began a blog of my story of hope at, http://bipolarrecovery.wordpress.com

 

eviloverqueen Feb 17, 2010, 09:47 pm

 

I'd known for a while that I needed help. I was abused as a child, and even after most of the abuse stopped, I felt like I needed someone to help me learn how to cope.

I figured I just had some issues from that, and a little therapy would help me deal and I could go on my way. I never thought for a moment that I'd have a mental illness.

After a couple false diagnoses, my first long-term psychiatrist, the wonderful woman that she was, told me I was Bipolar.

I was so relieved.

After years of treatment that did no good, I finally knew what was wrong with me, and now, armed with that knowledge, I could start fixing my life.

I told everyone in my family, and my closest friends, right away. And even though my illness is my business, I feel like telling the people who are consistantly in my life is a good idea, since I not only don't feel like I have to hide a dirty little secret, like it's something I should be ashamed of, but also because if they know about it they're better equipped to be supportive.

I am very thankful that everyone I know is very supportive. I am not treated like a freak show or a dirty secret. I'm treated like a person.

Treatment has helped me go from living in my closet and refusing physical contact with humans, alternately miserable and wanting to die, to cheerful and wanting to die, to being a happy, not-quite-fully-functional-yet person who's not suffering much at all and can have healthy relationships with other people.

Admittedly, I've not yet found a medication or medication combo that can make me stable. I'm also running out of medications that exist for treating my illness. But they make more all the time, and I know that one day I'll live a normal life.

I've come farther than anyone ever thought I would. Ever. If I can improve this much in five years, in another five I can have finished college and be working as a professional artist.

And so can any of us.

 

 

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