Hello,
hello, hello! Welcome to From the Mind of One Tim Cubbin! I’m Tim Cubbin! If
you’re here, you are THE BEST! My regulars will know I say that very often on
this blog, and I honestly mean it! You may have scrolled by this post
completely uninterested, said “Meh,” and moved past. But, you! YOU decided to
read my post, and that means A LOT to me because the topic is rather taboo,
people don’t like to talk about it. But, you! YOU decided to read this post
anyway. So for that, THANK YOU, and I hope you are compelled by what I’m
presenting to you now!
So I know
that some of you know me as family or friend. Some of you know me from reading
prior entries on this blog page. Some of you don’t even know me at all but
thought this would be an interesting read as you scrolled past. However you are
here, whyever you are here (autocorrect tells me “whyever” is not a real word,
but I think it SHOULD be, so I’m using the word “whyever” whyever I want), I’m
glad you’re giving me a chance. This blog is my job, but I don’t get paid, but
I do this anyway because I care about my content and wish to share my views on
all kinds of niche topics with y’all (I’m a New Yorker, yet I say “y’all.” I
don’t know why), so by acknowledging me, you’re doing me a great service.
But I
digress. I’m here, typing on my computer keys, to talk about therapy. For the
record, I am diagnosed with bipolar disorder, a fact that I purposely share
because I’m not ashamed of it. Some people with mental illness are often embarrassed
by their “disease.” I’m telling you, if you’re bipolar, or autistic, or have
ADHD, or OCD, of mentally retarded, I’m telling you this: THERE IS NOTHING
WRONG WITH YOU! You can’t choose how you’re BORN, but you CAN choose how you
LIVE. I spent years embarrassed when I was put on Ritalin for ADD (which was
actually a misdiagnosis and caused me a lot of trouble for almost ten years).
In school, I had to take medication midday, and that meant I had to go to the
school nurse every lunch period. I was ashamed and hoped no one saw me in the
nurse’s office to blab to the other students, and if I tried to avoid or forgot
about the medication, I was called to the nurse’s office on the loudspeaker, so
to me, I was in a lose/lose situation. If I was seen taking medications, the
bullies would jump on any chance to make my school days difficult. I was always
afraid someone would find out. I also learned how to fake taking the medication
by faking taking them in my mouth then stealthily pocketed the pill, and was
able to trick the nurse, because that seemed “cool.” If you’re a student in
school and reading this, it might be best NOT to try to hang with the “cool
kids” as they might not really be “cool” after all. I mean, there are
exceptions, but most of the “cool kids” in my schools were jerks. So
medications were my dirty little secret. Now, I know if you’re reading this,
there may be a chance you feel this way too. If you are on meds, again, THERE IS
NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU! THERE IS NO NEED TO FEEL EMBARRASSED! If these little
tablets make your condition better, wouldn’t you rather be taking them? People
with diabetes have to test their blood sugar and take insulin. It’s not a
reason to be embarrassed, it’s just part of their life. I’m actually on
medications for epilepsy and hypertension. I want to avoid having seizures or
high blood pressure so I can have a good quality of life. This should not be
embarrassing to me (and it’s honestly not). So if Ritalin makes you focus through
your ADHD, or lithium can prevent manic bipolar episodes, wouldn’t that
actually be a GOOD thing? I would think so. So if kids in your school think it’s
“uncool” to be on medications, they’re probably the uncool ones. So if you’re
on medications, you don’t have to share this with anyone, but you shouldn’t be
afraid of being seen taking meds. It’s part of life, YOUR life, it ALWAYS will
be, so you honestly shouldn’t be ashamed.
So let’s
get to my main point; therapy. If you take meds for mental illness, such as for
bipolar disorder, you probably see a psychiatrist and/or therapist to evaluate
your condition and prescribe your medications. You may be embarrassed by this,
sitting in a room talking about your “feelings” for forty-five minutes. You may
hate it, even dread it. I will also state that therapy may be more difficult
for males because males are raised, particularly by fathers, to not talk about
such things. Fathers may say things to their sons like “Man up,” or “Walk it
off.” Some parents will not even try to conceive that there is nothing “wrong” with
their children (and mental illness does not mean that anything is “wrong” with
a child). My dad didn’t. He didn’t believe in mental illness, or medication, or
therapy. I was just, his word, “abnormal.” I’m not the perfect mini-Mike, or a
doctor, or a lawyer, or famous, or rich son that he wanted, and if you are none
of those things, again, THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU! You can’t always be
the kid your parents want, and THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT! No one is
perfect! And there is NO SUCH THING as “normal.” How can anyone be “normal”
since no two people are the same? How is there a paragon of “normal” if we are
all different? She gets good grades; does that make her “normal?” He’s a
football star; is he “normal?” How is “normal” defined? He’s in ninth grade and
he can’t read at a ninth grade level; he must be “abnormal.” She can’t sit
still for more than three minutes; that makes her “abnormal.” The word “normal”
when applied to human beings, really SHOULDN’T apply. But let’s get back to
therapy. Sure you may not like it, it may make you feel that there is something
wrong with you, you may feel that you’d rather be anywhere else for those
forty-five minutes. Look, I get it, I honestly get it. I used to hate therapy.
My doctors were just so boring, acting all high-and-mighty, telling me how
things should be. I had therapy once a month, and I did not look forward to
that day. But think about it: you watch a television show you like, go to
school or the office the next day and talk all about it with your friends and
coworkers. So if you have something bothering you, wouldn’t you like to talk
about THAT as well? A fellow student calls you a really bad name and the
principal doesn’t do anything to punish that kid. If you go to a therapist, you
can talk it through. What did this student call you? Why did he call you that?
Why did this bother you? How did it make you feel? What did you do after he
called you that name? Doesn’t talking about this with someone understanding, nonjudgmental
make you feel better? I’ve truly come to appreciate a therapist. If I yell at
someone, why did I do it and how did it make me feel? Did it make me feel
better? Was there really a reason to have done that? Did it solve anything? What
could I have done instead? My therapist really makes me think about it so it
doesn’t happen again. I actually have a safety plan. What are my triggers? What
can I do before a crisis starts? Who can I talk to? What can I do instead of a
crisis? This really helps me. And she helps me set goals. It feels so good to
go to my therapist and report my feelings. Did I want to yell? Did I actually
not yell? Did I yell? What did I do when I felt like yelling? What did I do?
What did/could have done instead? If I’m successful, the reassurance is just so
good. If I’m not, it just helps to know what I should do next time a crisis
approaches. Now, I can’t expect you to do this, but I go to therapy weekly. It’s
a great feeling to be able to go to her and tell her I made it through a week
without crisis, sometimes I don’t feel good about how my week went, but talking
about it just helps me. I have a set day and time every week, and my progress
in treatment is important to me. I also see my psychiatrist every four weeks to
discuss how the medications are working for me, make adjustments, talk about
important life events. I don’t dread it like I used to. I find it to be that therapy
is not bad, and it does so much for me. So honestly, if you are in therapy, if
you are on medications, if you are diagnosed with mental illness, you have
NOTHING to be ashamed of. If you feel like you need help, than you should
probably get it. There’s NOTHING wrong with that, with asking for help.
If you’re here, you are THE BEST! I hope my advice can be of help to you. You totally don’t have to agree with me. If you don’t think any of what I said applies to you, I actually invite you to ignore what I said and go on and read the end of this essay. I can’t tell YOU how YOU should feel or think, this is how I feel and how it applies to ME! I hope my essay was compelling, clear, and concise. I write plenty of other blog content such as more editorials, short stories, poetry, and book reviews, so if you liked this post, feel free to continue to peruse the blog, get a feel of how my thoughts work, and now I say to you, as always, Tim Cubbin… out!
