feb 19, 1998

I wonder if this is another one of those 'projects' I'd start but don't finish. Hey, I'm even capitalizing correctly, I must be taking this rather seriously, ha-ha.

This monday I went to the doctor's and an hour-and-a-half later, emerged from the office clutching in my hand a photocopy sheet of the diagnosis: "Bipolar Disorder-II". Great, I grimaced to myself, and all this time I thought I was just frigging 'clinically depressed.' Now I've got a whole different ball game to deal with, one that I've not dealt with past skimming a Psych-101 text book for my exam. And what is this word 'manic' mean? Bipolar Disorder is the current preferred term over 'manic depression'. I'm not manic! I'm not hyper... am I? Hey maybe it's this strange and silent whirring in my brain that seems to keep going on most of the time and preventing my tired body from sleep. Maybe it's this strange burst of energy that comes from nowhere, and translates into nothing particularly productive. The energy drones on and on and on....

The evaluating nurse told me she did a little survey a while ago on how readily people would admit they have bipolar depression. (I just had the urge to digress about the 1% occurrence but I'll go to that later.) She asked whether people would rather admit they have bipolar disorder or that they have STD. I jumped to the answer in my head "well, duh... why would anyone choose STD over bipolar?!" and my thoughts were displayed on my distorted and questioning facial expression. The nurse jumped too: "That's what one would think!" meaning otherwise.

It's been about 3 days since I've found out that I "have a touch of bipolar disorder" (said the psychiatrist) and I'm beginning to gain insight into why people would choose to feel unsightly from STD rather than unsightly from bipolar depression... or any other mental illness for that matter.

First, brains are frightening things simply because even amidst our biotechnological revolution, we still have little clue to how it works. Something happens inside the soft spongy grayish white mass and we have no idea what exactly. Unless the brain experiences gross anatomical misformations or atrophy, we would have to use complicated machinery just to get some kind of a pattern of its activity, but not exactly a roadmap to what's happening. We naturally fear what we don't understand, that was why the ancient people sacrifice virgins and boil potatoes (or do they boil something else? I just made up the latter part since I have no evidence of any potato boiling by any aboriginal tribes,) we are afraid of the unknown. Mental illness belongs to dysfunction in the brain, which largely remain a mystery even to modern science. With STD... well... just check under the 'scope or take a look and there you see it. At least you can see where you are applying your salve on! Where do I find the problem in my head, and once found, a salve for it?

Maybe the fear of unknowns have less to do with our stigma towards mental illness as... fear of loss of control. When you say you have STD, people would look at you like you're stupid, and frequently, you were indeed - for not slapping on the glove before you go to love (and love doesn't play a role in half the cases). This is something you CAN control, unless you were fooled by the partnering dickhead gal/guy who didn't tell you they've rolled in contaminated hay. Now when you say you have bipolar disorder or a mental illness, people start looking at you like you're someone to be watched out for, to avoid, to be careful around because... heck you might be CRAZY! It's the loss of control over one's destiny that seems more frightening to others, and this is just my opinion, but I'm sure I've made a good point. I don't think this is my manic side talking either.