As someone recently said to me, Halloween should be a national holiday. It should be the "wear-something-fun-and-gorge-yourself-on-candy" day. It should be just a national day of fun when we're not supposed to be giving thanks or making love or hiding eggs. I could get behind that. There are two reasons why Halloween is so fun: 1.       You get to dress up and pretend to be someone else 2.       You get to eat ridiculous amounts of candy and get a ludicrous sugar high Well welcome to everyday bipolar disorder.

I've seen quite a few doctors and I've talked to quite a few people who've seen quite a few doctors and one thing that constantly comes up - and decreases patient care - is a negative relationship between patients and doctors / psychiatrists. There are many reasons people have a poor relationship with their doctor, but one of them is that people are intimidated by their doctor. And doctors never seem to understand, or compensate, for that. So, quite simply, we have to.

I've been having a really hard time. Immobilized with depression. Frozen in time and agony. The pain of blinking keeping me weeping sporadically throughout the day. And so today I am angry. Oh sure, I'm depressed too, but I'm also largely angry. I'm hateful. I hate everything from people to stoplights to walking to moving my eyeballs. I'm just angry that I'm alive. But I have chosen this anger. I have chosen the anger over the depression because it is more useful. It's better to hate everything because hate comes with energy, depression does not.

"Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something." ~The Princess Bride Life is pain. Or, at least, it can be. I've found that during severe episodes every breath, is, in fact, pain. There is nothing else. Just pain or unconsciousness. I prefer unconsciousness.

One of the problems with mental illness is that it is episodic. Particularly in the beginnings of mental illness, someone will have an episode of illness, and then an episode of wellness. While I'm never against episodes of wellness, this does lead to a problem: when we're well, we convince ourselves we don't have a problem and refuse to get help. This is normal human behavior. No one wants to believe there is anything wrong with them. So it's natural to deny problems when they are not readily harming us. Unfortunately, this means that many people don't get help for a mental illness. When we're sick, we're too sick to get help. When we're well, we deny we need it.

Doctors should take every patient seriously, but they don't. How can you get your doctor to take you seriously? Lets start with this recent comment (edited for length): I have a masters degree in pharmaceutical science and have worked with clinical research for 11 years . . . I feel that maybe I get to close to be on the "same level" as my psychiatrist. . . I am afraid my doctor might think that I have better control of my bipolar "state" than I have. I do not have control . . . I want her to think of me as THE patient. But on the other hand I do want to be involved and discuss treatments etc. . . I think that she does not realize how bad I am right now. No one does. I am that happy, funny outgoing guy Johan. They just do not look behind the mask . . . It is strange that no one takes it seriously when you say you have suicidal thoughts. Mutilation . . . My doctor knows that I am depressed. But why does she not realize how bad it is? So, how do you get your doctor to take your seriously when you often appear alright to your doctor? Can your intellect actually do you a disservice?

I have trust issues, but then, I think everyone does. We all grow up with people disappointing us and breaking our trust. It's just a part of becoming an adult. But unfortunately, all relationships are based on trust, and this includes one with a doctor. It's essential to be able to trust what your doctor says and does. You have to be able to believe in what he's saying in order to try treatments that are often unpleasant and might make you feel worse before they make you feel better. But doctors do a lot of things to break that trust, sometimes because they have to and sometimes simply because they do. So how's a patient to get over broken trust in a relationship with a doctor?

Most people I know with a mental illness try very hard to get better. They look for sources of help, support and information. Most people I know don't sit around waiting for someone to save them. But then there are the people who do. There are the people who whine and complain that no one will help them and yet turn down help or refuse to look for it. There are the people who kvetch that there is no support available to them in spite of the fact that the world is drowning in helplines available 24-hours-a-day. In short, people think mental health services should be brought to them on a silver platter - and then be spoon-fed.

Sunday marked the beginning of the Mental Illness Awareness Week in the US and Canada. These weeks happen around the world at different times of the year. In the US, this week was set aside by Congress to bring together organizations fighting for the awareness of mental illness. In Canada, Mental Illness Awareness Week was established by the Canadian Psychiatric Association. And while large organizations run these national campaigns, there are things that every one of us, as individuals, can do to help.

One of the most terrifying things about mental illness is that you can no longer trust what you feel. Oh sure, you feel it just as sure as day, but can you trust it enough to act on it? Not really. At least, not if you want to keep your job, friends, marriage and so on. You can no longer simply feel and act. Now you must feel, think and then contemplate acting. It's exhausting and not a particularly reasonable thing to be expected to do.