A Matter of Opinion

Symptoms.

Health is all about symptoms.

Chances are if you have ’em, something’s going on!

Take my hand. About three weeks ago, I fell and broke my right (write) hand, remember?

Idiot me, I ignored the symptoms. Swelling, bruising, pain, disappearing knuckles, pain.

Just bruised it, says I. Nothing they can do about bruised hands.

What do I know?

Nothing, as it happens.

After much cajoling by people who know far more about broken hands than I (namely mothers of sons who play hockey and other sports) an x-ray showed something.

Broken fifth metacarpal, a splint and things are going swimmingly in the hand department.

Turns out my symptoms signalled that there was, indeed, something going on.

Then there’s your mind.

Symptoms are a little different with minds.

Minds don’t swell. (Heads, maybe, but not minds.)

Minds don’t turn black and blue, and bruise. (Depression may feel black and “the blues” may feel bad and sad, but no one can see your mind bruising. Signs of emotional and mental pain can’t be seen on an x-ray.)

A mind doesn’t break like the bone in my hand. That’s a mixed metaphor, but it’s time to clean up the language and reconsider what mental health and wellness is all about.

It ain’t just about symptoms. Everybody experiences emotional and mental well-being differently. The same can be said about mental distress. It’s not hard science. Not detectable under a microscope.

It’s subjective. A matter of opinion.

I have a hypomanic personality. I’m exuberant. There have been times, not lately, when I’ve been a little too exuberant. High. Manic.

I remember once, many years ago, in my office, I became pretty excited about something. Very happy.

I was talking very fast. Probably too loudly. I do, when I’m excited. I think fast and talk fast. One of my colleagues, with all the best intentions in the world, said, “Maybe you should take a pill.”

There’s a difference between happy and high. I know the difference. My husband knows the difference. So does Dr. Bob. Most people who don’t know me that well, think that when I’m really happy or excited, when I talk too fast, there’s something wrong with me.

They think I’m getting manic.

They say, “Calm down. You’re sounding crazy. You’re sounding wild.”

They’re wrong. Because when they say those things, I can take a deep breath and slow down. But it drives me crazy. I have a psychiatric history – and it’s history as far as I’m concerned – so people think they can spot my symptoms, diagnose and prescribe.

Mental distress and mental health don’t work that way.

These are symptoms, if you like, but in someone without my history, I ask you, would they be told they’re crazy and wild and should calm down and to take a pill?
 
Think about it.

Most psychiatric patients are given three or four different diagnoses before doctors can settle on the "right" one.

We all have symptoms – signs or traits that make us the unique human beings we are. I choose to interpret those signs or traits to be neutral. Characteristics. Traits. Features. They can signal something good or not so good. Or nothing much at all.

In most cases, my “symptoms” work to my advantage.

After all. I’m a “glass half-full” kind a gal. An original cockeyed optimist.

Emphasize “cockeyed.”

It's all a matter of opinion!

Comments

[Sonia]

Sandy, I hope your hand heals well.

You are fortunate (from my perspective of well-being-ness) to have had manic-depression serve to identify your symptoms, that the science of the time was willing to explore those symptoms 'objectively' - if that could be said of human exploration of emotions.

As a survivor of incest and childhood abuse (sexual, psychological, physical, emotional, intellectual are words often used to divide the 'types' as though the division created healing), in my experience, few people are willing to accept PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) as applicable.

Also, deep sadness is often confused with depression, as though these were synonymous. Sadness for lost childhood, lost innocence, lost opportunities, coupled with a will to live life as well as possible, different from the mainstream, is not depression.

Cockeyed is a good angle, if I may say so.

[elaine]

i just came upon this blog in my search for e-support. i had the idea recently that perhaps a blog would serve as e-therapy for me (also bipolar) as there are still a limited number of people i feel comfortable talking to 5 years post-diagnosis and a very limited amount of accessible live-therapy for someone recovering from a couple manic spending sprees

i had quite a strong reaction to scanning this post having felt the "unfairness" of having mental vs physical "symptoms" for some time.... yes life is not fair and my symptoms are more "manageable" than a broken spine in that it is possible to return to "normal" but i often have trouble remembering these things.

i suppose it's my own discomfort in breaking the barrier that's often the problem, and i don't know how to get over that.

re. symptoms i've also felt the frustration in a close relationship of someone - even knowing my history - interpreting some of my depressed behavior as "me". ok yes it's all me but when someone has a broken arm it is clear they are not their "usual" self and they would not be expected to participate in a social activity like a baseball game in the same way as everyone else.