The Wood of the Cross

Posted on March 30, 2005 in Bipolar Disorder Compassion

One of the prices you pay for being sick with any illness is the existence of people who don’t believe that the illness should play any part in their treatment of you. These are the folks who serve you gigantic desserts when you are diabetic, who send you flowers that you are allergic to, and who pressure you to have a drink when you are alcoholic.

I had an encounter with a person who wanted to know how he could help me. I recommended a book. “I don’t want to be turned into a lay counselor,” he said. “I don’t need to know about your disease.” The fact is, I bluntly informed him, that the reason I am asking for help is because my disease (bipolar depression) is overwhelming me. How can anyone expect to be of help when they don’t understand the nature of the distress I am undergoing?

It doesn’t just happen with mental illnesses: people who suffer from diabetes, heart conditions, asthma, and gout (all of which I suffer from) run into folk therapists who think they don’t have to bother to know what the disease is about to help those who suffer from them. I say to anyone who genuinely wants to help another suffering human being, it is imperative that you know the nature of the cross that they bear. If not, why bother?

I have come to this conclusion: if someone says he or she wants to help me, I expect that they will learn what they can about bipolar disorder. If they serve me food, they should ask me about my diabetes. If we go hiking, it’s important that they know about my diabetes, my heart condition, and my asthma just in case something goes wrong.

And if they can’t handle it, I’ve come to this resolution: it will be better to tough it out alone than to endure slipshod, ignorant support. I am afflicted with five illnesses that are not my doing. The one who understands the necessity of knowledge best is myself. Therefore, I shall seek it.

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Tracy talks about undergoing tests for rheumatoid arthritis. I can relate to that long, slow process of discovery and the frustration she feels, if not from direct experience then from parallels.

I should add a banner to my site: Nonfucking Liberal. Those who take SSRIs will understand.