According to the National Institute of Mental Health, approximately 22 percent of adults in the American population suffer from a diagnosable mental disorder. When that percentage is compared against the 1998 US census, this proportion factors out to about 44 million people. Another way to designate that number is that one in five American adults have some sort of mental illness. Of that 44 million, nearly 18 million suffer from some sort of depressive disorder.
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"To this day, general society considers mental illness to be a result of weakness. The sane world doesn't understand or tolerate mental illness." |
The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders gives three classifications of disorders which qualify as forms of depression: major depressive disorder, dysthymic disorder, and bipolar disorder. Bipolar disorder is included in this group because sufferers often experience periods of clinical depression.
I’ve got first-hand experience with mental disorders. My aunt was cursed with bipolar disorder. It didn’t help her that her own mother refused to recognize her illness but that sort of reaction is common in the best of families.
In truth, my father’s side of the family was rife with crazy broads. Two of his mother’s sisters committed suicide. Dad was the one who had to have my aunt committed after one of her infamous episodes. Two of my aunt’s children died as a result of their own dysfunctional choices. My oldest brother was and continues to be a pretty fucked up dude. Then there’s me.
I’ve written before about my little trip to the nuthouse. Yes kids, old Titmowse has a history of diagnosed wackiness. My counselor called it dysthymic depressive disorder with borderline tendencies. Mind you, my illness was enhanced as a result of the deaths of my parents. But, that’s the difference between a normal person and a mentally ill person. Normal people handle and get over emotional trauma. Kooky folks like me don’t handle that stuff so well.
Experiences such as the death of a loved one can literally cripple an already unstable person. I’m much better now. It took a couple of years of counseling and lots of anti-depressive medication to get me to where I am finally a whole, healthy human being. For the first time in my life, I have the mental fortitude to endure and survive anything life throws at me. Just in time for menopause. Whoo hoo!
What I’ve noticed since I’ve become an adult webmaster is that there are a lot of people like me in pornland. Many of them have gotten professional help but I suspect there’s a lot more who choose to go it alone. That’s understandable.
To this day, general society considers mental illness to be a result of weakness. The sane world doesn’t understand or tolerate mental illness. They look at our disorders and psychoses as some imagined excuse we use to justify our actions. They’ll never know what it feels like to be suffocated by their own minds. They’ll never see the view from the bottom of a pit of despair. They can’t imagine what if feels like to be so mentally paralyzed that even getting out of bed is a challenge. I say good for them. I wouldn’t wish that shit on my worst enemy.
The reality is quite a few of us are in this business because we can’t function normally in the brick and mortar world. I myself worked in the public sector for 29 years. On the job I was gracious, gregarious and bright. Off the job, I was a mess. I self medicated with booze. I alienated friends and lovers on a consistent basis. In public I was fabulous. In private I was fucked up. I blamed
everyone but myself for my troubles and it took two dead parents to get me to recognize I was the one with the problem.
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The National Institute of Mental Health states that major depressive disorder is the leading cause of disability in the U.S. and established market economies worldwide. They also state:
In 2000, 29,350 people died by suicide in the U.S.
More than 90 percent of people who kill themselves have a diagnosable mental disorder, commonly a depressive disorder or a substance abuse disorder.
The highest suicide rates in the U.S. are found in white men over age 85.
In 2000, suicide was the 3rd leading cause of death among 15 to 24 year olds.
Four times as many men as women die by suicide; however, women attempt suicide 2-3 times as often as men.
I worked my ass off to get healthy. I had my last nervous breakdown in 96 and it wasn’t until 2000 that I could finally say I was truly better.
How do I know I’m better? Well, I call it the judge Judy test. When I was ill, Judith Sheinlen seemed to me to be the meanest bitch in the land. Back then, I saw her as an unsympathetic monster who relished in the torture of poor fragile souls. Now I see her as a fair-minded lady with a low tolerance for fools. When I was sick, Judge Judy made me mad. Now she’s my hero.
Of course there’s other more important personal behaviors which tell me I’m in good shape. I take responsibility for my life now. I’ve stopped blaming society for my troubles. If I screw up, I fix it. I don’t have periods anymore where I wallow in paranoia and hopelessness. I’ve lived through the hell of the mind and I will never ever go back.
If you’re in a bad place where hope is unimaginable and you’re one straw away from ending it all, please please get some help. You don’t have to suffer alone. You don’t have to live in torment. You can get better. You can get through it. There is help for you out there. It’s not going to be easy. It may take years to work it out. But you’ve been scratching and clawing your way out for a long long time. You’re stronger than you think.