Every one of us has a story to
tell. It's taken a lifetime to write, and has more characters, plot lines, and
twists than any other book written. Our stories are complex, and when someone
asks us to tell it, we often don't even know where to start.
So why is that, when we see
someone with a certain style of clothes, or type of car, even address?? And why
do some fear or shun those that aren't different on the outside, but on the
inside? We think we can sum their story up into one tidy statement?
They're
poor. She's trashy. He's a scary psycho.
If there is one thing I know
about it is stigma and judgment. Flat out discrimination. Not because I do it.
But I've been burned by its cruelty far too many times. And I have seen it happen
for years on almost a daily basis to others for petty things like just the way
someone is dressed.
I've worked in the restaurant
business for most of my working life. That's over twenty years. Daily I saw
servers prejudge customers in seconds at first sight judging what kind of table
customers will be. This would determine which table will get the better
service.
I've been thinking a lot about those
brushes of stigma and discrimination I have come up against in my years with
bipolar lately. Why? Because of my recent termination as a result of my bipolar
during my previous mixed episode.
In the past I had always brushed
them off thinking, "Eh, you're not worth it." And to an extent no one
is when it comes to treating others that way. Why let someone get the best of you?
But then again, why let someone get away with it when it comes to a place of
employment? Or if it stands in the way of reaching a personal goal for that
matter?
My recent employment loss is not
my first encounter of discrimination on the job. Six years ago after going
inpatient, which disclosed my bipolar, I went from a 40 hr plus over time week
to a 16 hr weekend schedule. In addition a couple of the co-workers shied away
from me. Eventually I quit because I kept being harassed with false complaints
against.
But the worst was when during my
own and my current wife's two custody battles. I've written many previous blogs
about them. But their main ammunition against me was attempting to convince the
judge to take our kids away was because of my bipolar. That I was some violent
psycho that could snap at any moment and hurt anyone in house.
I stood standing in front of a
courtroom of people as my accusers bad mouthed me lying with some of the worst
accusations you can think of laced with mentally ill stigma.
We learn at any early age to make
judgments about the world we live in. That cashier that always seems so unhappy
and never smiles. The co-worker that is constantly having with problems at work
because of his alcohol problem. Maybe a disheveled person sitting in the same
lobby and mumbling to no one in particular, babbling words in sentences that
make no sense. There is something strange and uneasy about these encounters.
We're put off.
So these people are shunned,
separated from the healthy, who create categories, almost another world, for
the "others" who don't fit in normal society.
Anyone looking into the depths of
their own mind can become frightened or concerned, but to people with bipolar,
we can't escape our own thoughts which are filled with darkness, gloom, thrill,
speed. No matter what else we may be
doing, our minds are busy fighting those thoughts constantly. Those of us with
bipolar feels everything more intensely and society appears artificial, fake,
and phone. We can't understand why we can't just cope with the tragic or false
world and appear happy like everyone else. Our greatest wish is to just be able
to turn those feelings off.
Bipolar is certainly a
misunderstood illness. Even to those of who deal with it every day have a hard
time understanding bipolar disorder. I don't completely believe that stigma and
discrimination are because of ignorance and lack of understanding. It's just
like everything else in this world. A person can hate something inside and out
and still hate it. I think most of it is root in arrogance and self-pride.
Ever have someone right in front
of you talk trash about something you have with another but they don't know you
have it? Or make some kind of comical reference about something else to it? I
can remember a few occasions when two people were talking about another person when
one made the sarcastic comment, "I swear he's bipolar." Sarcastic
because they were trash talking. Unknown to them, me being bipolar, was standing right in front of them.
If you have a mental illness, one
thing you learn is how to deal with people who mock the disorder.
Discrimination and stigma are mockery. From strangers to television to
co-workers, it is hard to escape those who discriminate people with bipolar and
other mental illnesses. The misconceptions surrounding bipolar are many.
As children we are colorblind. We
live in a black and white world. But we as adults, live in a world that in some
ways, value a distinction between good and bad, between holy and evil, between
right and wrong and between normal and abnormal.
But we all know that, whether we
admit it or not, that so much of life isn't easily put into a category. Of
course there are default right and wrongs, but a lot of life is difficult to
categorize. There are debates about religion, marriage, sexuality and politics
and everybody seems to think different.
A lot of grey lives between the
holy and unholy, between the good and the bad. Even the normal and abnormal.
But we love more than anything to brand one another with labels. To stigmatize
and discriminate. We love to drop each other into tidy categories because it
feels good and so much of us do this without a thought.
I've been betrayed. More than
once. Some of those who I thought were friends got a view of one of my
episodes. They must have fallen off of the earth. I thought my bosses who had
always worked with on issues during my employment had my back. Apparently not
when I was terminated during that same episode. They are brutal. Unfortunately
these happened throughout my adult life.
When we judge, label, diminish
and discriminate each other this becomes the fuel for shame and guilt to fester
in our souls. A label says we are unworthy, flawed and unacceptable.
Except that the stickiest ones
are in my own mind. It's a mind that feels a little scrambled. A mind that is a
little scared to process through it all on my own, let alone allowing anyone
else in on it over the fear that they will run as far as possible. Or judge.
Every stigma and discrimination
has helped to encourage me to prove others wrong and seek goals. But on the
inside it still causes pain. Eventually my whole perception on relationships
changed throughout the past...two words...PROTECT MYSELF. Discrimination and
stigma is that destructive.
Every thought, move, decision,
relationship has been ran through a filter of being stabbed in the back.
It made logical sense to protect
myself. To hold back something in my relationships. To hedge. Minimize risk. I
wanted to put the odds in my favor that would go through that pain as little as
possible.
But isn't it a double standard to
assume that all or most of all would discriminate and stigmatize? Wasn't I
putting others into a category? I lived in protective mode for a long time.
It's easy to get angry and hurt
when you're viewed as a scary psycho. Being discriminated or stigmatized
against is not about others. It's about me. It is a choice of how I will
respond to these situations. I can close up and shut down or I can learn and
then trust again. I can chose to be the better person. It's not easy, but I'm
figuring out how to do that in my own life.
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