On Shame & Transparancy

I had an interaction with one of the readers of my blog this week.  He referenced another pastor's blog who also deals with being bipolar.  That pastor chose to write under a pseudo-name and writes about the fears associated with being open about his condition and the potential of retribution.

I have written a lot about my being bipolar on this blog.  I still consider the possibility of serving as a pastor in some way.  But can one be open about one's struggle with a mental illness without eliminating the possibility of being considered for parish ministry?  I envision a call committee meeting where they are looking at two candidates, one of whom has disclosed that he is bipolar, and I find it difficult to imagine a congregation choosing to go with the "sick, crazy pastor" as opposed to the healthy one.  Perhaps my openness about my condition has made me vulnerable to all the prejudices that continue to dominate our culture's attitude toward those with a mental illness.

And yet I write.

A major part of why I write is that I believe very sincerely that unless people with a mental illness such as bipolar disorder are willing to share that experience, the stigma surrounding mental illness will never diminish.  "Bipolar, not crazy!" is one of my mantras.  "No cognitive or physical impairment" was the finding of the doctor who was involved in evaluating my disability claim.  Being bipolar is about experiencing mood swings that are beyond the normal for a healthy person.  It is not about cognitive or physical disabilities.  Such mood swings can be disabling.  That is true.  But lets be real about what bipolar is, and is not.  And there should not be this incredible stigma surrounding it.  It is what it is, it is not what it is not.

I write because there is no place for shame when one is dealing with being bipolar.  When I had to have my mitral valve repaired, I was not ashamed of having open heart surgery.  When I had a torn meniscus in my knee, I was not ashamed of that.  I am not ashamed to have the flu, or that I now have a hernia that needs to be repaired.  I refuse to be ashamed of being bipolar.  It is just another illness among many that has to be treated.

I write to break down the isolation associated with being bipolar.  The shame we too often feel when we experience a mental illness, and the isolation that often envelops us, can be catastrophic.  One of the most meaningful things to happen since I've been writing this blog is to be approached by those who also suffer with being bipolar, or with another similar condition.  They have expressed great appreciation for my writing, and how helpful it has been to be able to relate to my experience.  We are not alone.

Part of me is amazed at the reach of this blog.  The stats page identifies page views from around the world.  Madagascar and Qatar.  India.  Brazil.  What this tells me is that there are people from around the world seeking help to understand their situation.

And finally, part of the reason I write is that I seek to be understood for who I am.  One of the hardest things I've experienced is when people make judgments about me, uniformed judgments, that are simply not true.  Depression and  mania are what they are.  They do not represent personal failures.  A person with a cold, coughs, and has a runny nose.  A person who is bipolar experiences highs and lows, beyond the norm.  In the end, I hope people will not judge the person based on the symptom.

There may be a cost that I will pay for being open about my being bipolar.  It may prevent me from being seriously considered for any position in ministry.  But in the end I believe it is worth it.  Because its only as light is shed on the subject of mental illness that the shame and stigma will go away.  And besides, my manic side is still trying to save the world. . .