On Twitter a follower asked me about a specific side effect of a medication. She was considering taking the medication and was worried she might suffer from this side effect. This is a reasonable concern and it’s good that she’s researching the drug's effects and possible problems ahead of time. But the thing is, while knowing about the possibilities is good, worrying about the possibilities is pretty useless. You won’t know if you will get the side effect unless you actually try the drug. The only way to know what is going to happen is to roll the dice.

I recently returned from a trip to Chicago. I was at the National Council’s Conference on Addiction and Behavioral Health. I had a great time and met lots of great people (including our own Randye Kaye, author of Mental Illness in the Family here at HealthyPlace). But the conference was in Chicago, and while a great city, it did mean a day’s worth of travel and two time zone changes to get there. And travel has been known to really take it out of me. But I have learned tips for navigating travel with less disruption to my bipolar disorder.

Stigma is something that can be seen outwardly like when a family member avoids you due to your depression or  you’re passed over for a promotion because your coworkers discovered you’re diagnosed with schizophrenia. It’s also seen in public perceptions as noted in the Surgeon’s General report where 60% of people felt like people with schizophrenia behaved violently. But the biggest danger of mental health stigma is when it’s felt inwardly. Because no matter how unfairly people treat you ourwardly, it’s nothing compared to the effects of feeling the stigma inside.

I am single. I have been single for a long time, actually. It’s OK; I don’t mind it that way. I have my dalliances, I have my friends and I have my cats. It’s a touch stereotypical, but it’s my life. I have, however, fallen victim to an irrational line of thought from time to time – I really want to couple. Some of this desire is completely rational. It’s normal to want to spend Sundays in bed with someone and have someone to share orange juice with in the mornings. What isn’t rational, though, is the idea that a relationship will make me “happy,” will make me “better.” In times when bipolar feels it’s darkest, more than anything I just want someone to hold onto even if holding onto someone doesn’t work. Holding onto someone, however special, will not cure bipolar disorder.

Mental health is something that matters whether you’re seven, seventeen and seventy, and any of those ages can fall victim to a mental illness. Depression, for example, is quite prevalent and undertreated in the elderly. But if you’re underage, it may be more difficult than just going to your doctor to start the process of getting help for your mental health. It likely means explaining your mental health concerns to your parents; which, quite reasonably, is scary to a young person. (It’s scary to an old person too, but I digress.) So how do you tell your parents you think you need mental health help?

I’m sitting on my red, plush couch in my living room and I have started crying. Tears well in my eyes at first while I try to convince them not to roll down my face and splash the back of my glasses. As usual, the tears don’t listen and soon my cheeks and lips and chin are wet with saline. I take off my glasses and put them on the wenge coffee table and my head falls into my hands. Loud crying now, choking sobs wrack my body as I feel the pain of illness that I had been pushing away for so long beat me once again. And I wonder – will it get better?

Assisted outpatient treatment (AOT), also known as outpatient commitment (OPC), is a controversial program that you may know by the name “Laura’s Law” in California or “Kendra’s Law” in New York. These programs are designed to facilitate court-ordered outpatient treatment in a very small segment of the mentally ill population. In other words, they force mental health treatment onto certain people. But does forcing people into mental illness treatment actually help anyone? According to the Office of Justice Programs, yes, it does.

For a long time I didn’t wear sandals. No, not because I don’t like them or because my toes have an aversion to open air but because of the scars on my ankles – that’s where I used to cut. My ankles looked like there were pink, wriggly worms embedded in them. And I was scared that everyone would see them and know what happened, know what I did. I figured people would take one look at me (zero in on my ankles for some reason) and then judge me as being a freak and a lunatic and I would be ostracized from normal, human interaction. That was a bit of an overreaction on my part driven by the shame of self-harming in the first place. I’ve gotten over it.

Last week, I wrote a post about stress possibly leading to self-harm. Here, I discuss the fact that really, it's the anxiety that lives between the stress and the self-harm of which you may want to take note.

People self-harm for many different reasons and self-harm in and of itself is not a symptom of bipolar disorder. But like many people with extreme pain in their lives, many people with bipolar disorder do self-harm. I have been one of them. And as sure as I’m sitting here I can tell you, stress precipitated most of the self-harm.