As the title suggest I was grumpy. Oh boy was I grumpy over the weekend. I think I might have sprouted horns, some green skin and possibly a wart or two on my nose. It was pretty hideous.
However hideous my grumpy mood may have been, part of it was a reaction to the training I was doing to become a mental illness educator. It was meant to be a two day training course. I did not return for the second day.
Let me clarify this a little bit with a little bit of background.
I've been around bullies, abusers and generally nasty people my whole life. I am used to feeling out of place, unloved, uncared for and am completely used to being the scapegoat which people use to make themselves feel better. I don't like the circumstances I've been in and I sure as hell don't keep people around me who treat me like that, now.
I've been in psychiatric wards, both private and public, and have been around some rather interesting characters who, at times, made me feel a bit uncomfortable. Yet even in a psych ward, I have never felt "out of place" or "different" because of my illness. I've never had like-minded people around me make me feel like a freak or a pathetic waste of time.
Let's fast forward to Saturday. I went along to training. I was nervous. I didn't want to see a particular person and hoped that she would not get there. She was. Okay, so I took a deep breath, said to myself that she deserved it too and I shouldn't be such a condescending bitch.
I was doing okay until the point where she said "if you don't have hope you shouldn't be here." Yep, that one flippant comment hit me right were it hurts the most because I was already feeling very vulnerable, out of my depth and I felt more like a freak amongst those people than I have among "normal" people.
The day was very full on. My anxiety sky rocketed to a point where I couldn't think and was no longer taking in what they were teaching us. As a result my back, shoulders and thighs are so sore at the moment from being tensed from 9am to 5pm. Yes, I spent the entire day in a state of readiness for flight.
Anyway, people talked, we talked about stories and personal experiences. I felt for the struggles everyone has been through and felt their joy when they were able to say "now I know how to manage it". What I wasn't expecting was for EVERYONE there to be passed the stage I am. I am not at any kind of management stage of my disorder, illness, craziness.
The realisation that I was alone in how I was feeling and my circumstances hit me hard. In fact I think it actually managed to knock the wind out of me.
All of these people had families, friends who stood by them and who remained friends, they found treatment, found psychiatrists, psychologists and other doctors to help them. These people have hope, have a real support network.
My situation seems to be remarkably unique. I don't like that THIS is what I'm "special" for. I have no one. No one will rock up at my house and be like "hey, time to chill out with me" or anything remotely resembling HUMAN CONTACT.
I became very aware of the lack of people I have whom I can talk to. Again, I mean face to face, I mean really trust and really talk to. Not just say a few words and then be subjected to "this is what you should do" speeches.
The other thing that became absolutely and heart breakingly apparent was the depth of my story, the depth of my pain and the total reality that it really is THAT bad. I don't talk about my personal story on here much, one day I might be able to write it all, for the moment there really is too much to even know where to begin documenting it.
My story encapsulates my entire life. My entire life I have been sick. Not just part of my life, not a point in my life, not "episodic" moments. My ENTIRE LIFE. (Yeah that's not a big thing for you guys reading this, for me, it's devastating.)
As far as the people at training... I was the only one with BPD (borderline personality disorder) and I keenly felt the stigma aimed at me. This was meant to be a place where we talked about reducing stigma and yet I have never been in a situation where I have been honest with my diagnosis and then been subjected to such... separation. It became apparent that I did not fit in, that I was just "too hard" to deal with or talk to or be around. It was quite horrible. I've never felt like that around people who suffer from a mental illness or carers of people who have/do suffer mental illness.
This hostility towards me because of my current position in the "treatment scale" (or whatever you'd like to call it) and my diagnosis was startling and scary.
By the time 5pm came along I had to consciously tell myself to just walk to my bag, slowly pick it up and slowly walk from the building. I think most of my tensed muscles actually got worse at this point.
I decided, after a sleepless night on Saturday night, that I did not want to be around people who clearly saw me and my diagnosis as "too hard" and "evil" and all the other stigma that gets thrown at them. It wasn't an easy decision. I want to educate people about mental illness. I want to talk about my experiences and show people what happens when you don't get help when you first think there's something not quite right. I want to reach out to even one person and show them it's okay, you're not alone.
When I had finally decided that I just wasn't of the right illness (and that is exactly how I felt and was made to feel) and that I wouldn't be going back, my muscles began to relax and I fell asleep at 7am on Sunday morning. I couldn't even sleep after taking my sleeping medication. That is a big warning sign there.
So, my faith in the human race as a whole is completely gone. Here were people who were meant to be like-minded, having suffering from a mental illness, who ostracised me because I was "too" sick for them.
I'll be honest, it hurts. It hurts more than I can truly express.
I learnt this weekend that I am a freak, that stigma is rife among the people who are meant to be helping to reduce it and that my "story", my life has been far more horrible than I think I ever realised.
I have to ask, why should I bother?
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