Saturday 26 July 2014

The Dog and Homework Lie

When you were a child, the dog ate your homework. When you're an adult the traffic is a nightmare, your alarm didn't go off or your stupid phone lost all its contacts. Does this sound familiar?

That's because we all lie. White lies here and bendy truths there. We get so used to it that we become ashamed of ourselves and lie automatically when we feel that we will disappoint someone, or lose face or cause annoyance. We just want to be liked and well thought of, underneath everything. So , we lie.

I lied endlessly over the years rather than admit that I was bipolar when some aspect of my illness had caused me to either lose my job, lose a relationship, lose a home or lose a friend. I had a completely alternate version of my life and CV ready to roll out at the drop of a hat rather than tell my story the way I do now.

Lying about my illness has become so ingrained over 16 years that it is a habit hard to break.  I turned up at school drop off one morning a few weeks ago and a friend looked at me and kindly remarked that I looked quite tired and asked if I was ok. Without thinking I started to tell her that the dog had eaten my homework, so to speak, and actually managed to stop myself. Then I told the truth. I was actually in the middle of trying to manage a very challenging  *hypomanic episode which had come on quickly and was fairly acute. I explained the basics of my situation to her and one of my son's teachers who was standing with her. Not only were they kind, considerate and genuine in their concern but they thanked me for giving them the insight I had - particularly the teacher who remarked how useful it was to have it from her point of view as all our actions as parents impact our children.

I went home with a weight lifted off my shoulders, a feeling I had not experienced before. Although I have been publicly speaking out about my illness for a while now, this was the first time I have become unwell during that time and this was the first time I nearly lost my homework to the dog. But I stopped myself. I left the school blinking at myself in the light of not having lied about my current battle with hypomania. It felt great.

I was so inspired by my couragous rescue of homework from said dog's gaping jaws, that I turned to my public Facebook page where I share and chat about mental health and inspirational ideas. I documented my struggle on this public forum as well as with my friends on my personal timeline. I charted my episode from onset, through to the peak where speed wobble and breakdown set in and onto treatment with the crisis team and reassesment of my medication and eventually to peacful conclusion where relatively normal service resumed. The whole episode lasted about a month.

The result of doing this surprised me on a number of levels and re-doubled my passion in doing what I do as a public speaker and advocate of speaking out. Here is what happened:-

1 ) I felt supported because people followed my posts and made comments of support.
2)  I didn't have to lie because I was telling everyone the truth and I didn't feel ashamed.
3)  I received messages from a few people saying they were directly inspired by these posts to tell the truth about why they had been off work or behind with something. All of them either struggle with a degree of depression or take meds for a mental health condition.

I worked with the crisis team , my friends and colleagues stood by whilst I did my best to keep everyone fully in the loop. My husband felt hugely supported by the fact that people knew, he felt less isolated in his mammoth task and responsibility as carer. Other parents asked after me and he didn't have to lie, he felt able to ask for compassionate leave from work to lighten the load at home. And here I am  - peacefully emerging out the other side of a hectic few weeks. Hypomanic episodes have always preceded a manic episode and then hospitalisation for me - or - I crash land badly, suffer a major disruption of some kind in my life and struggle, choking, back to normal through a fog of lies about what happened.

 My conclusion is that I don't need to be ashamed of my shortcomings, embarrassed about my inconsistencies or fearful of others' perceptions of me.  Truth has subtle power that can cause unexpected change. It did for me.

The happy ever after bit of this story is simply that the poor dog was innocent the whole time.

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*Hypomania (literally, “below mania”) is a mood state characterized by persistent disinhibition and pervasive elevated (euphoric) or irritable mood, as well as thoughts and behaviors that are consistent with such a mood state. It is most often associated with the bipolar spectrum. Many who are in a hypomanic state are extremely energetic, talkative, and confident. They may have a flight of ideas and feel creative.

- Wikipedia.

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3 comments:

  1. Very useful insight thank you :) x x x

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  2. beautifully written and so, so true

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  3. I agree. I never hid my depression but no one asked about it so I didn't tell. Was full of shame. I always used the 'Tears of a clown' approach. That's lying to myself. Now recovery, progress, and rebuilding relationships is my focus. Not ashamed anymore so I'll talk about it to anyone. Their reaction is up to them.

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