Tonight's post is sarcastic. But I deal with it remarkably often.
I'm about 75% open with my illness now. I don't casually mention it to anyone, but nearly everyone around me knows. Yet sometimes I don't feel like telling, and some people I just trust my intuition that I don't want them to know.
One of them is this person who does fill-in work for us. I worked late tonight and he asked me why I was there so late. I said overtime, and then said something about really needing to get home because I was going to be late for meds. I just didn't think about it, everyone knows. And personally I don't ask about people's meds.
But he did, and I gave my standard bit about not sleeping without meds, etc. I usually tell people it is an unexplained thing. Since my sleep issues are different than a lot of bipolars there is an element that is unexplained and I just talk about that. I explain I use depakote to avoid addiction, and that I have to take enormous doses of it.
Generally I might get one or two further questions, but people also seem to realize I don't want to talk about it. Tonight though he decided to be Mr. Helpful. And so he suggested I exercise.
Um, because I would RATHER take harsh medications that put my body at risk? Because that never occurred to me? (aka just because I am overweight doesn't mean that I was before I needed meds).
Apparently "stupid" is tattooed on my face....(keep in mind this comes from someone who earns a LOT of extra money working in nursing homes yet tells me repeatedly how nursing homes are the worst place to work and all sorts of problems keep it from being the best therapy. So leave. Only people who love nursing home work should do it.....)
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People.
Are.
Retarded.
Seriously. *shakes her head*
I've had people tell me to "cure" my depression with exercise and laughter. Uhhhhhm, does that alter brain chemistry?
*rolls her eyes and hugs her friend .... who understands*
A lot of people are just ignorant. It's too bad when they happen to be fellow healthcare professionals! But I can't tell you the number of times I was told that the solution to my problems was exercise. Even my boyfriend sometimes tells me to exercise when I am going through a bad time.
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