Posted on February 22, 2010 in Anxiety Reflections Stigma
There’s a disorder – officially recognized as a [[culture-specific syndrome]] in the DSM-IV — known as [[koro]] whose sufferers — all men — are seized by the terror that their penis is shrinking. This has been so bad in some regions that government sound cars have been dispatched to assure people that there is no such illness and that their fifth appendages are just fine. The comfort does not, I gather, keep men from measuring and re-measuring themselves, particularly in this age of Internet mail offering help with penile length.
I don’t discuss that flesh, so this article is going to take a factual if not spiritual left turn before we get to any juicy details. I’ve found myself worrying about the lessening of another faculty, namely my mind. I have observed that many people who sought me out before my 2005 diagnosis with [[bipolar disorder]] no longer seek me out. Nor have I often heard “intelligent” numbered among my qualities lately. This rushes me to conclusion that I am losing my intellect, that it is shrinking beyond recognition.
Readers of this blog have heard this plaint before. From talking to other sufferers of bipolar disorder — at least those who aren’t in the extremis of mania — my condition is not at all unknown. The question is whether it is a trait associated with age and bipolar disorder or a mass hysteria common to us? Are we imagining our deficit or is it caused by our illness being allowed to chew on the corners of the brain or the radical settling of our moods by the medications we take?
I have my ears cocked but so far I have heard no reassuring announcement from a government radio truck ((perhaps a good sign since this might well indicate a hallucination)) . I just want the phone to ring or email to appear in my box asking my opinion on some matter of local self government or some writing or something other than the day to day of my illness ((But note that I receive no calls about that either.)) . Readmit me to the human race please.