Voiceshares #15 - Life After The Diagnosis - My Story Of Fighting Mental Illness, Prescription Drugs And Judgemental People!!!

I had the reaction described in the "black box warning" on SSRIs. I had the reaction before the warning was on the pills. I saw a medical doctor first, who diagnosed my problem as a drug reaction. He sent me to a shrink, since it was an antidepressant.

Even after the black box warning label was put on the bottles, I was unable to find a "mental health" professional who would believe I had suffered a drug reaction. Instead, they found increasingly dire diagnoses to heap upon me, and kept insisting I needed to get BACK on the drug that had been giving me suicidal thoughts. That was the ONLY "help" the doctors have offered me, in over ten years now.

I have gotten on with life, made major changes and found some level of joy again. To list what I lost would just be too sad, so I will say "a lot" and you may let your imagination run wild. I did NOT kill myself, so I won, in the end. The things I lost in the fight apparently were not things I needed.

There is one thing that still hurts, and when it rears its ugly head it still just makes me so sad. I used to have REAL friends. Mind you, I have a spouse who is a rock, so I am not totally alone on this, not at all. I have people who are generally supportive and kind to me, but you know that "I got your back" kind of just friend... they changed on me.

Once I was diagnosed as "100% crazy" suddenly no one ever has to apologize for anything they say or do to me. The assumption is always there that if my feelings were hurt, it is just because I am crazy. They are all "perfect" now. It is weird. I see how they are with their other friends, they would never talk to them the way they talk to me.

Tell me if this would hurt your feelings... I am in a musical group with a friend, a very accomplished musician. At our last practice, she kept scooting her chair away from me and actually putting her finger in the ear on my side of her head. I tried to let it go, but it was really bothering me. I have always been told I sing well, but she was a professional musician... I guess it does not matter if it would hurt your feelings, it hurt mine.

I asked her about it this morning, and she gave an explanation of sorts. No apology though. No one ever feels like hurting my feelings is their fault. I am just crazy, too sensitive. And if I want to keep friends, I have to be OK with that. I realized early on in this process that for me to demand "perfection" in friends would leave me very lonely very fast... Not many people even want to pretend to be friends with someone who has the kind "anxiety attacks" that I have. Expectations of apologies had to be let go. Can't help but wish for them now and again though, it does make it feel better when someone shows regret for hurting feelings. Apology is the bandaid for emotional boo-boos. Again, turns out I don't really need them...

I see a lot of hoo-hah about removing the stigma of mental illness, I just don't see very many people that actually give a damn about people once they get labelled. It turns out that MOST 'mentally ill" people are just average folks who got caught in the system and labelled. I guarantee you that MOST people would get labelled if a shrink got hold of them. Once labelled, you would have the whole world trying to get you to take a pill that says right on the label it might make you suicidal...

We have become a society that subtly tells sad people we would rather see you dead than sad... and apparently a society that means that from the bottom of the hole where there once was a heart.

The day I just lost my shit and could not go to work was ALMOST the last time I heard from my coworkers. My birthday rolled around, I had been out for over a month. They put a bag of candy on my desk. No one called or emailed or sent a card. 2 months later a doctor I worked with called and asked if he could eat my candy. THAT was the last time a coworker contacted me.

I have siblings who hate me for not liking the antidepressants. I had one scream at me that she would rather be dead than stop taking them. remember, I reacted before the black box warning was put on the label. Everyone, doctors to friends and family, all called me a crazy liar, making up lies about the "happy pill." I had one who kept taking them until he put a bullet in his head last spring. He insisted they were helping right up to the end.

This is just my "every day" now. Love the people around me the best I can, and try to steer clear of most of humanity because they really just want "crazy" people to be dead. There is an alarmingly large portion of society that thinks it is funny to trigger an attack, watch me "freak out" and laugh at me as I fight to hold on to my sanity. Some who call themselves my friend, say they love me... I have learned to just avoid those types of folks no matter how much I like them most of the time. They do not wear warning labels: "Caution, I am in heartless mode today, and you have such a nice target on your back!"

I am not sure why I am even doing this... Maybe I can generate some sort of point. DO you love someone with a less than flattering diagnosis? Be kind to them. They carry a burden they probably will never try to articulate for fear of losing the support they have. PLEASE do not waste any alligator tears on ME, I am OK. I am asking you to look at YOU, and try to make sure you are good to the people you love.

OK, I can laugh now, my therapy is done... I mean seriously, SCOOTING AWAY and PLUGGING YOUR EAR? Who does that? No one ELSE in this group ever did that to anyone, and there are some folks in there who really can't sing... we just smile and are happy they are having fun, or that is what we are supposed to do. Only in my crazy world!

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