Revisiting my own prejudices against the mentally ill, and how it fed into my paranoia of stigma.

Now that I'm calmer, and can reflect and analyze things without being hyper-emotional, I keep coming to these realizations.

One hit me yesterday -- I was a bigot when it comes to my attitude about the mentally ill. One reason my diagnosis shocked me, and made me feel like I was given a death sentence, was because I viewed people with mental illness as being mostly the "street people" I see lined up outside of the shelter I pass on my way home from the current (and hopefully former within the next 13 hours) psych. and my therapist. Or people living in community group homes. People living horrible, terrible lives until it kills them. Little or no money, no freedom to choose their own path, no opportunities, a lot of substance abuse. Hopeless and lost. Which is why I felt hopeless and lost.

OK, I still have some of that anxiety. But I'm not so much of a bigot anymore.

Because I have me the most amazing people who are living with and managing their conditions, and leading happy, successful lives.

Some are right here on DU, on this forum.

I've met many others in cyberspace.

I know some from real life. My niece's husband has bipolar, and was diagnosed as a teenager -- he is only 4 years younger than I am, so he has lived with this a long, long time --it runs in his family, he has a lot of siblings, and several of them have bipolar as well. It is extremely well managed, he is a very successful and happy guy -- been married to my niece for 22 years, he has two engineering degrees, electrical and mechanical, was an honors student at Michigan State where they met, my niece is a chemical and something else (I can't remember) engineer as well, and he worked as an engineer for about 12 years. Then he decided he wanted to change careers, and has been a high school physics teacher for about a decade. He and my niece are raising three great kids, the oldest was named Michigan's Eagle Scout of the year last May, and just started college as an honor's student with a lot of AP credits. The other two are younger, girls, and each is great. My nephew by marriage is an amazing guy, great husband and father, and does amazing things, like competes in triathlons. If I could handle this half as well, and have half the life, he has, I'd be in a terrific place.

Another guy I know in real life is a client. I've written a little about him here. Gulf War vet who was diagnosed a few years later with PTSD and bipolar. It did mess him up for a while. Then he got his act together. Went back to school, works full time as a mental health counselor for the Michigan Community Mental Health agency in the next county, and is about the nicest guy you would ever want to meet. Now has a "serious" girlfriend and I heard something last week about how he is thinking of proposing.

I was also thinking about all of the people I met at the partial hospital program. Not at all what I expected. Yes, they had profound problems, some made mine look trivial in comparison, actually. But not at all what I expected. I was trying to review in my mind all of the people I met, since they rotate in and out. With the exception of one woman, who was depressed about it in a big way, actually, everyone I met either had a college degree or was in college at that time. For the most part, they all had careers, good jobs -- an elementary school teacher, an ordained minister, an IT professional for General Motors, a retired US Army Major who then became a business executive in the auto supplier industry and specialized in supply and logistics, a kinesiologist/exercise therapist, a mortgage department trainer for one of the big national banks, others I can't remember now.

I really need to rethink this. Drop my fear and bigotry. It isn't the death sentence I had convinced myself it was. I don't have to believe my only future is homeless in the gutter, or in prison, or in a mental hospital's locked ward (well, those don't exist anymore, now they have group homes instead). I can aspire to HAVE a future -- I already am making so many positive changes. I think I can even go beyond just "stabilizing" at my current level in life, and actually achieve some of the dreams I've had for a long time which felt impossible -- I'd like to get a master's degree, and while I'm no where NEARLY ready to tackle something that big, I need to get the "day to day" of living back fully on track, someday in the next couple of years I'd like to do that, in paralegal studies/legal administration, and get onto a better, more lucrative career path. I'd like to fully get back and then maintain my physical health, and I'm making great strides towards that. In July, if someone had asked me to walk a mile, I would have told them it was simply impossible, I was in terrible shape and abusing my body daily with pop and junk food. Saturday night, I went out with the intention of a long ride, 15 to 20 miles. About 5 miles into it, I ran over some metal debris in the parking lot of a muffler repair shop and blew out my rear tire, with no spare tube on board (learned that lesson, always carry a spare inner tube and patch/repair kit). So I walked the bike home 5 miles, and it was like nothing, even enjoyed it, cold but nice night out. I like to think I can meet somebody and have a meaningful relationship, like a grown man.

Yesterday morning at my appt at Lifetime with my personal trainer, the bigscreens on the wall which play music videos which are synced with the overhead sound system were "stuck" in an infinite loop - it played about 8-10-12 repetitions of 'Stronger' by Kelly Clarkson -- we both noticed it was "stuck". At one point, we were discussing my progress on upper arm strength, and I was struggling against the amount of weight he had put on a machine, which is being progressively increased. I paused for a moment, looked at him, recited the line from the song "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" and said "Who knew you could find such profound wisdom coming out of the mouth of Kelly Clarkson?" But it's true.

The hospital therapist asked me the last day, the last hour, "What's the difference?" between then and when I first came in --"Attitude. Attitude makes all the difference."

I can do this. I WILL do this.