Throughout my life I have been treated for mental illness. I cannot remember the number of times fellow sufferers have said 'this illness is worse than cancer'. None of them had cancer so arguably how could they possibly know?
I guess I am in the perfect position to make such a judgement. So is mental illness worse than cancer?
Well of course a simple yes or no answer is impossible to make but having both is a bit rough.
They are both pretty terrible and have each their own horrific symptoms and effects on daily life. Both can be curable or life long afflictions, mild or severe, both life-threatening.
My father was 33 years old when he lost his battle with his mood disorder and took his life and I was only 12 when it became apparent that his disease was genetic and I also had it. Since then I have suffered dramatically fluctuating moods that must be controlled by drugs and careful daily monitoring. My moods switch like a camera shutter and this has limited my life in so very many ways. I worked for 5 years but in 1982 was told I would likely never be in paid employment again and this proved an accurate assumption although I do have voluntary employment. I like my job and it is so much less stressful knowing my income does not rely on my ability to function at full capacity and probably means I function better and actually contribute more. I consider my current benefit generous enough and am grateful to live in a society that cares for people like me as my family opted out years ago. My mother was deeply ashamed and I was kicked out as soon as I finished school. Hospital, hostels, friends couches followed for over 20 years but I have been in council accomodation for the last 20 years and love my home. It is my little haven and my bunnies are my family. I have a relationship with my brother now since my mum's death from cancer 10 years ago and I am grateful for that although it is not always easy.
I feel sad sometimes when I compare myself to my contempories who have husbands, children, careers, family holidays, social lives etc but there are, of course so very many people who have had it a hell of a lot tougher than me. My best friend from school days is blind which is a constant reminder that pretty much everyone has their cross to bear. This site and people I have met on lifes journey also jolt me from time to time hen I hear why others have ended up needing the help of the psychiatric services. I really have heard some horror stories.
Going to Cornwall last weekend was a lifes first for me, my very first holiday since I as a child and I got there complately unaided. When I stood on those cliff tops it felt like winning the lottery but it also reminded me of all the life experiences I have missed and will never now have. It as such a bitter sweet experience and since returning home I have barely got through an hour without bursting into tears. The danger now is that I will allow the tears and the fear of more to make me retreat back into my 'avoid any pain at all costs' mode operanda and never do the like again. That would be so very tragic.
What desperately complicated beings we all are. I love listening to people recount their life's journey to me and never stop being amazed by the journey's people make and what has brought them to any given point in their lives but life also terrifies the living daylights out of me. People talk of fighting cancer but to me every minute of every day of my life has been a fight and it doesn't always feel like I am winning. Still at least I remain in the fight which must count for something.
