Your Reality May Not Be Mine

During my struggles with my disorder, I've been called a lot of things. I've been told I'm illogical, irrational, even delusional.  While I admit my creative brain may wander more to the depths of imagination than the logical line of thinking, and that in my worst moments I may not be thinking the most rationally, I have never been delusional, and I recover rationality quite quickly once I'm not in the midst of a hypomanic or anxiety attack. I've been accused of being unable to handle life. On the less damaging end, I've been told I'm being too pessimistic, that I look at the glass half empty, that I need to just focus at the positive side of things. I've been constantly reminded that people have it much worse (I would never deny this), and that I need to "get a grip". And when I insist that I'm a realist, an optimist even, people tend to get bent out of shape.  Because they don't understand that my reality may truly be different from theirs.

My reality is that I have hypomania, depression, and anxiety. I have panic attacks. My reality is what I experience with this illness. Which means that when I get anxious or depressed or panicked about something that seems insignificant to you, it does not feel that way to me. It's not me "getting worked up" or "blowing it out of proportion" or "being dramatic."  I physically, mentally, and emotionally experience the situation differently than others may.  The best way I can describe it in more "physical" terms is this: If someone has bad asthma, and you go on a hike together, what may seem like a slight, easily navigable incline to you may be a challenging hill for them. Telling them that it's not a difficult hike, or that it's only a small incline, won't make it any easier for them to breathe. In fact, in addition to their breathing struggles, they may now feel self-conscious or frustrated, because you've pointed out that it "shouldn't" be tough, further emphasizing their illness. They aren't "being dramatic" when they struggle to breathe. To them, it really is challenging on their system. It's the same with my illness, except that the organ affected is my brain. 

To help illustrate how things feel and appear to me, here are a few examples:

• You see a slight glitch in the plan for the day. I see, and physically feel, that the entire day's schedule now has to be rearranged, and that I must frantically try to figure out how I'm still going to get everything done. In addition to my mental and emotional feelings of anxiety, my heart starts pounding and I having trouble breathing. 

• You see a minor "road block" that you can reason your way around. I experience the panic of having to completely give up the task/project/whatever it may be because it'll never come to fruition. My brain bombards me with numerous other examples of when I failed at a similar task, or sometimes just any task, which makes it nearly impossible to concentrate on finding a solution. 

• You see the positives of the day. I see those too, but my brain highlights all of the things that did not go well, because those are the things I will, at least according to my brain, still have deal with later. So those are the areas that it focuses on, hoping to figure out what to do. It makes it very tough to "look at the bright side" and focus on the positive aspects when your brain is continually creating a list of tasks, stressors, and concerns. 

• You see obvious solutions. I see fears. Why don't you make a phone call.  You mean besides my hone anxiety? How about you collaborate with so and so.  Because I have social anxiety and they won't want to work with me and I'll just feel inferior and insecure around them and... and.. . It'll be fine, just go introduce yourself. "Hi...um... I ...uh... (looks at ground awkwardly)...yes... ok.. yeah... you too (to nothing in particular)." And yes, I can push myself. To a point. But there's a fine between trying to work through your fears and pushing yourself in the direction of a massive anxiety attack. 

I realize that because you can't actually see my depression, anxiety, and hypomania, and because there are people out there who actually enjoy making everything more dramatic than it has to be, many people have a tough time telling the difference. Still, I ask you to err on the side of caution. Because even that "drama king/queen" may be struggling with low self esteem and feelings of inferiority.  They maybe they're completely ignored at home/work/elsewhere and just desperately need someone, anyone, to take notice of them. They may be crying out for some sort of help in some way that you don't understand.  You never know what's happening inside the head of anyone but yourself, and I would venture to guess that each and every one of us has something we're struggling with or battling that isn't obvious to others. And none of us would want to be judged, criticized, or mocked for that. So please, stop using phrases like "chill out" or "calm down". Stop accusing people of being dramatic, illogical, irrational, delusional.  They probably aren't, but if they're ill enough that they actually are having delusions, shouldn't you help them instead of getting annoyed at them? In your criticism and your name calling, not only are you judging them without all of the information, but you may be stigmatizing them because of an illness which they have little control over and certainly didn't choose.