I have learned that the most important tolerance shown to a person living with a mental illness is the tolerance displayed by the person to him/herself.
That individual must understand his/her diagnosis, admit that it requires a redefinition of him/herself, and embrace it as a new experience. Only then would the required compassion become accessible to the individual to treat him/herself with acceptance.
I recently declared to my enduring love that I am in a good place, and I believe that wholeheartedly. That’s where I have been for some time and, though it does not have the trappings or trimmings which we expect with success, I am leading a successful life.
Self-tolerance has made of me a calmer, more kind-hearted individual. I am able to forgive myself whenever I find I am accusing myself of being a disappointment or when I count my unfinished ventures as failings. You must know self-accusations are part of the landscape of mental disorders; unfinished ventures mark the path, also.
Learning self-tolerance has caused the deepening of my patience with my shortcomings and, consequently, the shortcomings in others. It has widened my compassion for all manner of deficiencies. I am a good way off from any suggestion of perfection, but I remain very satisfied with my progress in handling myself and my emotions.
My hope is that everyone who lives with a neurobiological/mental disorder can look beyond the unnecessary stigma and accept their life with its lows and highs, learning to live fully in whichever moment. That’s what I do and I have found that if the people around me understand what I am doing or experiencing, then it’s highly possible to maintain longstanding relationships—family, friendships, and intimacies.
It goes without saying that if you live with a diagnosis of clinical depression, there are two things that could occur in your emotional space—you’re either depressed or not. Of course depression has to be qualified even more when there are varying levels from mild to severe and even extreme, and no discernible timetable for a depressive episode.
Similarly, with a diagnosis of bipolar disorder, a mental condition marked by the two “poles” of either feelings of elation or depression, there is bound to be fluctuation in mood and therefore functioning.
Self-tolerance has taught me to be my own best friend. I am my biggest supporter, loving my happy self and my despairing self where people’s support wane, weighted down at times by my accepted normal of oscillations into here and there. But I also admit that people are extremely important to maintaining a good quality of life. I remain purposeful in my selection.
Due to recurring periods of fatigue, a symptom of the disorders, I no longer can manage the interaction load of too many relationships. I now find great difficulty keeping up with friends and relatives. Finding the balance with the number and selection of people involved in my life proves challenging.
I wish I could be as gregarious as I am known to be, but that’s no longer emotionally possible or wise. I have had to accept less intimacy and involvement, since every relationship demands some level of commitment and communication. The preservation of my stability in an already uneven scenario forces lower levels of interactions.
Yet, there is still the other side of the coin, the part where I know for my wellbeing I need people. I need friendships, family, and intimacy.
Therein lies the dilemma for me as for everyone with diagnoses which have periods of highs and lows. It is a conflicting life that can create conflicted relationships. How then do we maintain the loving support of a circle? How do we preserve love for ourselves?
I am mostly reclusive because I’ve realised not many people are willing to learn that I may require a different response at every interaction, that today’s reaction has nothing to do with yesterday’s, and that every day is different from the next one.
People—family, friends, partners—are generally not as sophisticated in their understanding of the ambivalences I experience; most do not know to laugh when I’m laughing and keep calm when I am not. People generally have insufficient reference for treating with such diverse emotions. That unawareness is the main contributor to the failing tolerance among friends and family.
Generally, if my reaction to something is explosive—this happens—hardly ever am I measured with the knowledge that I am responding from an entirely different perspective than the next person would if faced with a similar situation.
But what if people were more aware, more tolerant, and were able to look at me and recall another time when my response was superior? How would that improved tolerance impact our relationship?
Intolerance is rooted in misunderstanding, unawareness, and misinformation. On my better days I keep thinking of what to teach to help others pay careful attention to their analyses of my demeanour in order to cultivate better approaches to embracing me and others like me.
Caroline C Ravello is a strategic communications and media practitioner. She holds an MA in Mass Communications and is pursuing the MSc in Public Health (MPH) from The UWI. Write to: mindful.tt@gmail.com