All that I am, all that I ever was…

I am more than my mental health. I am more than my homelessness. I am more than any one aspect of me. I am Addy. And this is…

004. Oh, what a wonderful world it would be

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What if we treated every illness the way we treat mental illness?

What if we treated every illness the way we treat mental illness?

Why so serious 365 Day Blog Challenge? Day four and still no ‘fun’ questions. Today, “how you think your life would change if you achieved your dream.”

In May 2007, upon being asked whether I had self-harmed in the past, I admitted that I had been doing so since I’d first started suffering from depression at the age of thirteen. Immediately the response was “I can’t have anything to do with anyone who self harms,”

In October 2007, after hiking 50 odd kilometres, after being registered (and investigated) as a missing person, after attempting to hang myself, after presenting myself to the police, after being driven to the hospital in the back of a police divvy van with a rather obvious tell-tale circular mark on my neck, I was told after nineteen minutes “you’re obviously fine, so there’s no need for any treatment,” and sent home – alone – with three mildest of the the mild anti-depressants.

In late 2008, whilst in a depressive episode, I was told “do you know how difficult it is to be around you when you’re like this, why can’t you just be better?”

Now let’s twist these around slightly:

In May 2007, upon being asked whether I had needed to take an insulin shot in the past I admitted that I had been doing so since I’d first started suffering from diabetes at the age of thirteen. Immediately the response was “I can’t have anything to do with anyone who has diabetes,”

In October 2007, after hiking 50 odd kilometres, after being registered (and investigated) as a missing person, after falling down a ravine, after presenting myself to the police, after being driven to the hospital in the back of a police divvy-van with a rather obvious tell-tale femur sticking out of both legs, I was told after nineteen minutes “you’re obviously fine, so there’s no need for any treatment” and sent home alone with three mildest of the mild painkillers.

In late 2008, whilst vomiting my guts out following a round of chemotherapy, I was told “do you know how difficult it is to be around you when you’re like this, why can’t you just be better?”

Oh, what a wonderful world it would be to be able to walk down the street free of judgement, ridicule, embarrasment, isolation, insult and ostracisation.

Oh, what a wonderful world it would be to be able to talk to friends and family without having to hide, lie, decieve, distort and pretend.

Oh, what a wonderful world it would be to be taken seriously by health professions, to be allowed to be yourself, to be free of prejudice and discrimination.

I’m not sure I even want to imagine the wondrous changes to my life if people accepted mental illness as readily as they do physical illness; for they would surely be many, and they would surely all be positive.

The above image reblogged via:

Highlights from the 365 Day Challenge:

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2 thoughts on “004. Oh, what a wonderful world it would be

  1. stupid people, don’t they realize if one could just snap out of it, one would????!!!!! geeze that pisses me off when people say that! sometimes i wonder if mental illness, isn’t mental illness at all but abuse that people have never been offered help for. if you have a broken leg they cast it, if you have a broken spirit, they dub it mental illness and send you packing with a band aid…i think that’s what you are saying though. to those who find it hard to be around…do they have any idea how hard it is for the one suffering??! NOT! lucky them!

    Like

  2. Pingback: 100-Word Challenge, Day 004 | My Writer's Cramp

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