Pgh Lesbian Correspondents

Over the past 20 years of blogging, my understanding of my mental health has deepened considerably. I share more and more often because I am always learning and because I know that one of the biggest threats to my mental health is stigma.

Every time I post here or on my social media about my real life mh situation, I am chipping away at that stigma.

May is Mental Health Awareness Month and I usually would have several posts up by now. I’ll do my best to rectify that in the coming weeks.

For those who are new, I am a person who is permanently disabled by my mental health. My main diagnoses are severe anxiety, bipolar disorder type I, and complex trauma often referenced as cPTSD.

I have been fully disabled since 2010 and reliant on Social Security Disability Insurance (SSDI) and Medicare. I am very much a part of my community – I blog, I volunteer, I organize, I take care of cats, and I support the arts.

I had a traumatic experience in August 2023 that set me back quite a bit, but I’ve been working hard to set myself to rights. I go to therapy 3x/week. I gets lots of sleep, drink a bit of water, manage my meds, and work hard each day on my tools and skills.

Just last week, I took a big step forward on processing trauma from being detained and handcuffed by police in August 2023. Almost two years and while it still hasn’t resolved, my experience with trauma processing gives me comfort that it will. I just have to be patient. I’ll write more about that in a separate post.

Managing my mental health is the hardest job I’ve had. There’s the balance of everyday life challenges with newly emerging information from my mind. Then a medication routine in a world where insurance companies and pharmacy bankruptcies threaten even the simply supply line chain. Finding a therapist who is a good fit is one thing, keeping them is another. I self-assess my symptoms each day and adjust my activities accordingly.

I have to ask for help. A lot. I need rides to do everyday things. I need companionship and adventures. Sometimes I need help with dinner. Other times I’m asking for help with my projects.

It has taken me awhile to realize that to do the work so many people value, I need help. End of story. I need to take a nap, I need distraction television, I need to spend time with people, and I need to remember that I deserve that help, not for what I do but for who I am.

Bullying people about their mental health is an art form in our nation. Beyond the vicious name calling, we salivate at any opportunity to diagnose someone – whether they are narcissistic or have a personality disorder or even twist the roles to accuse them of gaslighting. Most people have no concept what any of these things actually mean, but they know how to exploit a weakness. It is vile and has severe consequences for people who actually have these diagnoses or any diagnosis.

Denial is another side albeit less malevolent. Our stigmas around mental illness are so deeply ingrained that we will do or say anything to avoid opening that conversation. That’s actually very sad because a decent therapist can make life better.

A newer way to discriminate is to use the fact that someone has a MH diagnosis as proof that they not reliable, not dependable, inherently prone to MH crisis, untrustworthy, manipulative, etc. Being a person who acknowledges they need help AND gets it puts them in the difficult position of being blamed. Lots of people with complicated MH diagnoses lead productive, healthy lives just like people with high blood pressure or diabetes or cancer.

My life is not exactly without stress, but I know that with the right supports – I am doing the best I can. I realize how absurd that reads. Right supports means 3 therapy appointments each week, 1 appointment for medication management a month. Like I said above, naps. Trying to eat well. Asking for support and trying not to let shame isolate me.

In spite of the many ways I think I contribute to society, I am deemed unworthy of a livable payment from Social Security. Again, asking for help is not a reflection on your moral character. Accepting help is very hard, but it is necessary when society deems disability a flaw.

Much like addiction, mental health disabilities are poorly understood and often dismissed. Alcohol addiction is a strong family trait, I’ve been fortunate enough not to self-medicate in that way. But my recovery journey gives me new insight into impact of addiction in my family.

There is no shame in an illness or disability.

You deserve to be valued for who you are, to have access to the supports you need, and to step away from stigma.