The Birth of Mental Illness
Um, Terri is awesome. Did you know that? Because its totally true. Not only is her blog, Writing in Crayon totally funny, but Terri is one of the sweetest people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I am lucky to know Terri outside of The Internet, and I just adore her. I have a feeling you guys are going to love her too.
Also, don’t forget to comment in order to be entered into the drawing for my mystery giveaway. Its totally better than if Andy Dick were a hooker, but not as good as if Angelina Jolie was. A hooker. Because she’d probably be like the most successful hooker ever.
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Recently, Jill Pilgrim bravely told her story of her struggles with mental illness and her climb to wellness. She also, very courageously, did so without joking, giving it the seriousness and respect it deserves. I’m going to copy her (because I want to be Jill Pilgrim when I grow up) and tell my own story. I, however, will be taking the low road*.
I have had many many many years to reflect upon how my craziness came to be. I’d have to say that my anxiety surrounding my health started at about five. At five years old, I developed an allergy to soap. Yes, soap. The stuff that takes the stink off of most kindergarteners caused me hives all over my body, and hives so bad on my hands and feet that they would just swell like clown feet and baseball mitts. I complained to my parents, but they didn’t take me seriously until I was literally crawling around on my knees and elbows (not sure why I needed to elbows; I’m sure just the knees would’ve sufficed). So this taught me health anxiety lesson number one: “be dramatic.”
Fast forward to eight years old in Sunday school. The teacher was teaching us about leper colonies. Now mind you, she left out a LOT of information. For example, antibiotics have come into being since biblical times, so leprosy no longer equals a death sentence. She also left out that a disease that “eats your skin” is characterized by nasty, itchy sores. (This will be important in a minute.) The sum total of my knowledge about leprosy was this: Get leprosy, a disease that eats your skin, and you get sent to a colony where everybody dies.
So later that day, I get in the tub for my bath. I get out, and my fingers are pruned and wrinkly. And…peeling! OHMYGODIHAVELEPROSY!!!! So I did what a normal child would do – cry to mama? Nah. That would make sense. I laid on my bed and sobbed, convinced I was going to die. This brought me health anxiety lesson number two: if you don’t have enough information, fill in the blanks using your imagination. The worse, the better.
Then fifth grade. Scarlet fever resulted in a fainting spell in the hallway at school. So. Embarrassing. BUT, my parents fussed over me, friends fussed over me, and when I didn’t finish my homework during my absence? my teacher fussed over the fact that I was all better, so it was ok that I didn’t do it. Health anxiety lesson number three: sickness = attention.
Add to that one parent with severe health anxiety and another with generalized anxiety disorder and occasional panic attacks, and you get me: One fucked up piece of equipment.
Effexor is my hero.
*disclaimer: humor is my coping mechanism, although in hindsight, this post isn’t particularly funny. I take mental health very seriously and am an advocate of mental illness awareness and education.
Terri- It’s all starting to make sense now!
Ha, Karin, you have no idea. Well, actually, you might have some idea – you knew me sans pharmaceuticals!
Thanks to Sunday school–or some such church-based school program–I was convinced from the age of seven that every cough that rippled my sweet little throat was tuberculosis. Turns out, it wasn’t anything nearly as life-threatening–just childhood asthma brought on by my parents chain smoking until I was twelve and then left ignored until I was in college. Yep, nothing that could’ve killed me thanks to the neglectful eye of my parents.
it’s so weird what kids will believe! it’s like you have to tell them every possible thing about everything or they’ll grow up thinking that babies come from under rocks. true story. my sister.
I’m so with you on this one! I’m a huge hypochondriac. I blame my mother. She had me checking for lumps that could be tumors when I was like 7 years old. That pretty much fucks a kid up for life.
Great P.S. there… Just in case we weren’t taking it seriously
Thanks for the post.
Have a wonderful weekend!
Love & Best Wishes,
RKCharron
xoxo
I blame my parents completely. And I love drugs.
I think we’re all a little… quirky… in the blogosphere. Which is great, because we can all relate to each other. xoxo
Lilu – I was just thinking this same thing earlier today. Maybe our blogging is our catharsis. Or maybe the “quirks” just make us think it’s ok and that the rest of the world cares!
Liz – Totally. On both counts.
RK – why thank you! and you do the same.
SebbyLove – Can I call you SebbyLove? Oh good. Because it’s happening. Thanks!
Kellie – I have had several forms of cancer, AIDS, kidney disease, yet hardly been sick a day in my life.
MLB – then there’s giving TOO much information to your kids. I’ve tried to overcompensate, and my son is nearly as crazy as I am. Poor thing.
Matthew – Uh…the ignored ASTHMA could’ve done you in! But thankfully, it did not.
Wow. LOL!!! You know what’s funny, I used to be a hypochondriac in grade school because of my mom, too. She had generalized anxiety disorder and used to freak out all the time. Once it lead to a helicopter lifting her from our home because she passed out and stopped breathing. I had (have) severe asthma so I used to think I was dying all the time. I once fainted in the fifth grade hallway because of my anxiety.
It’s really not funny, but yes, humor is a coping mechanism for me, as well. Great fill in blog!
So its not just for eating disorders. Parenting your children to any skewed body issues will fuck em up but good. I see.
Well then, as a grown ass woman who pretty much just now learned to eat properly, I say, maybe head-meds could have straitened out that little food control issue, had I ever had medical care for it.
Back in the ’80’s no one really had head-meds. We had acid to straiten our asses out or make us psychotic, depending on the person.
And yes, humor is one of the most powerful tools for healing and relating to others we possses, so good on you for applying it here so artfully
Alyx – uh…did I mention I had ED too? I had no Aunt Flo for several months in high school, and then later, convinced myself that if I didn’t eat, I’d get no period. Yeah. I was pregnant. How’s that for fucked up?? HAHAHAHAHA…haha…ha…….ha……yeeeeaaah…. Anywho… Now I wish I could trigger the anorexia! (kinda kidding…not really. I have about 30 pounds to lose, but I digress…
Nic. HI. I’m kinda drunk tonight. I’m loving the helipcopter drama!
I had scarlet fever as a wee child as well! And I got it like, two days after reading the Velveteen Rabbit. I wouldn’t let my parents bring anything that I cared about anywhere near me. I even made them use the itchy blankets that I hated. They couldn’t convince me that they weren’t going to set everything on fire when I was better.
isn’t it sad how as children we are very ill-informed about things because our parents are idiots who think to themselves “meh, she’s just a kid, she doesn’t need to worry about it, so i’ll just hit the highlights.” when in all actuality, we are COMPLETELY FREAKING OUT BECAUSE YOU JUST HIT THE HIGHLIGHTS AND THE BABY COMES OUT OF WHERRRRE?!
yikes.
Terri – Effexor is also my hero.
I love this new blogging world. It makes everyone seem so normal! Like, hey, look, we’re all a bit crazy. NO problem