@lookingglassx3 Do you have any personal experience with mental illness? Because, based on what you just said, I think you don’t have a clue.
My experience is that I did know. I saw the changes as they arrived, one by one. If I knew anything about mental health, I probably would have recognized what was going on, but I didn’t know.
When my brain started racing, I kept asking people if I was talking to much or if what I said made sense. I felt like my brain must be about to die, so it was trying to get as much thinking done as it could before it passed away. When I started acting out sexually, I felt like I was doing things I wouldn’t do.
I started snapping at my family. I even pushed my son so hard he cried. I knew something was wrong. I never behaved like that before. Never.
Then I started rapid cycling. I would go from ecstasy to depression in a month. This happened over and over. There was a new woman with each cycle. I felt horrible. Worthless. I didn’t deserve my wife or my kids and everyone would be better off without me.
I knew something was wrong. I thought about seeing a psychiatrist, but I didn’t do it. Maybe I thought I didn’t want to know what was happening. Maybe it was too hard to do it all by myself.
Eventually, I confessed what I was doing to my wife. I don’t know why she didn’t toss me out, but she didn’t. She got me to a psychiatrist—and pulled a lot of strings to get me seen in a few days. I did some research on mental illness the day before, so it was absolutely no surprise when he told me I had bipolar disorder.
What was a surprise is that that was only the beginning. It go so much worse. Oh, and thanks Dr, B, for telling me that one in five of us don’t survive.
I know a lot of people with mental illness now. I’ve talked to them about their experience and what they think when they find themselves doing these inexplicable things. Every single one says they knew it was weird. For some, it was like an out-of-body experience. They watched themselves doing these things and couldn’t figure it out and couldn’t stop it, either.
It’s a weird, weird thing. It might have been easier for me because it happened after I’d lived five decades. I knew what I was like normal. People who start young really don’t know themselves any other way. It could be harder for them. Still, I think we are all aware of how we thing. The problem is that we don’t know what that means. We know it’s different, but we may like it or have other reasons for denying we are different.