“I pledge my commitment to the Blog for Mental Health 2014 Project. I will blog about mental health topics not only for myself, but for others. By displaying this badge, I show my pride, dedication, and acceptance for mental health. I use this to promote mental health education in the struggle to erase stigma.”
I wanted to do this last year, but I wasn’t really committed to it. I had too much on my plate to handle it. However, this year, I want to do the 2014 Blog for Mental Health. You should check it out on it’s launch page at Canvas of the Minds – here.
See, for me, mental health and illness are just part of who I am. I’ve already written pretty extensively about how I got my most recent diagnoses (here), but I’ll recap a bit. I was diagnosed with bipolar II and OCD. Before that I was diagnosed with OCPD and before that there were diagnoses of different types of depression. But none of those diagnoses ever quite fit me completely, there was always something off about them, and the treatments were always failures.
I was originally diagnosed as “clinical depression” when I was 10 years old. From that first diagnosis to being told what my latest diagnoses are at 21…it seems that I’m right on track for the stereotypical bipolar timetable for false diagnostics. It usually is about 10 years of mistaken diagnoses before doctors figure out what is actually wrong with the patient.
I’ve been told that I’m lucky. That it’s better that I’m so young and that I’ve been diagnosed and am getting help. In one hand, that is true, I’m sure. I haven’t had twenty or thirty years of wondering what is wrong with me…of rambling through life without having full control of myself. But in the other side of things, it still took them 10 years plus to figure out what was “wrong” with me. That is still over half my life with diagnoses that were wrong, medications that didn’t work, regimens that would fail after multiple months. It still was a nightmare of things to deal with. After all, uncertainty over one’s mental health is always painful, no matter how many years or how young the person in question was.
Still, I also want to work through what I go through on a daily basis. My own family are some of the worst in problems to deal with. So I write also to defuse my own tensions and to help me feel better. Beyond that though, perhaps others will find something they can relate to in what I write. If they can, that’s just another reason to write.
What I plan to share for this is most likely going to be writing. However, I do think I will share photos on occasion. I doubt I’d share poetry (I have written a few poems, but I hate to share my poetry), and I’m even less likely to share the very few things that I’ve drawn. My art is awful, so I don’t think I’m inclined to share it. My writing I feel far more confident in.
I’m going to enjoy participating in any small way that I can.