Friday, January 6, 2012

silver service

Did you all know that those of us with mental illness and other associated brain problems have our own ribbon now? We do! It's silver. I learned this fact here.

Have I mentioned The Bloggess in here before? An online friend, someone with whom I discuss weightlifting and our past (and occasionally present) body image problems and our difficulties with getting the tradespeople we hire to actually come do work in our homes and the complexities of having male children--in other words, someone who really doesn't much know me at all, turned me on to this blog last summer, saying, "I think you'll like her. She writes just like you, so funny and witty." (Actually, since The Bloggess is fairly well-known and makes a living from her writing, the proper phrasing of that sentence is that *I* write just like her, but friends are friends, y'know?) I can't say that I am surprised that a writer who is funny and witty and smart and profane, someone who writes "just like me", turns out to struggle with severe depression, severe enough that she self-harms.

It calls to mind when M2 turned me on to David Foster Wallace, whose writing I had never to that point read. Mr Foster Wallace (Mr Wallace? I dunno if Foster is a middle or last name, mea culpa), in case you don't know, committed suicide a couple years ago or so. In that conversation M2 told me that his voice reminded her of me: really smart, really funny, but with a dark place.

It makes me wonder about the correlation between a certain kind of humor and the crazee. Obviously, it's a defense mechanism. I know I can tell all y'all a story about things my son did and said when he was psychotic in a way that is both hilarious and heartbreaking. But why the humor? Because it keeps the heart from actually breaking. "You gotta laugh or you'll cry." I grew up hearing that and I know the truth of it. Unfortunately in some cases--David Foster Wallace's suicide, The Bloggess's self-harm--it doesn't protect enough. Me, I'm still laughing more than I'm crying most of the time.

So, yeah. Silver ribbon. I'ma hold my breath till they start making silver mental illness awareness toasters and cosmetic bags and shoelaces. And when I turn blue, please apply mouth-to-mouth. I ain't lost my will to live yet.

xoxo

3 comments:

Uncle said...

So I have to display some of that humour and wonder who in hell chooses the ribbon colours? Is there a committee? If I said any more someone might not think I was serious. I'm glad to know about this blogger, not least because I'd about given up on making a living with words and I'm keenly interested in people who can. I find that a lot of people who can put two or more words together coherently carry the crazee along with them as a companion. They deserve the company and respect of people who understand.

crispix67 said...

Dont forget the silver mental illness awareness Kitchen Aid mixers!

I just came out of...or am coming out of../a month long bout with my Beast. Saturday was spent crying and in bed under the covers, napping, crying, napping, eating, crying. Was in a very dark place,deeper than Id been in awhile, and was about to give up on some things I loved dearly, just because I felt so damn unworthy of them, and my depression glasses had me seeing things in a totally distorted way. Yes suicide was a fleeting thought.

I finally reached out to a couple friends, even though they were really busy and had their own stuff going on.(one was in SC helping direct a yoga teacher training weekend, the other just lost her father last week)

Thanks to my reaching out to my good close friends who can see me at my worst and still love me, because theyve been there too, things started to turn around.

Im not sure I have the humor, maybe sometimes I do. I either shut down or get wrapped up in the pain and end up staying in bed all day. We each have our ways of coping, I guess.

Hugs to you and Uncle :-)

malevolent andrea said...

Sorry, guys, don't mean to be ignoring comments!

1.) Uncle, if you google "awareness ribbons" you will find lists. And lists. A purple ribbon, frex, can signify pancreatic cancer, testicular cancer, ADD, Alzheimers, domestic violence,thyroid cancer, Crohn's disease, lupus, fibromyalgia, and like 5 other things I'm too lazy to type. It's a little ridic.

2.) If y'all go and read The Bloggess, find the entry from July about her cat Ferris Mewler's castration and how he thinks he's Eric Northman. I laughed so hard I almost peed myself, srsly. Of course, it's much funnier if you've seen True Blood and you know who Eric Northman is.

3.) Ms Crispix :-( I'm so sorry you're having a bad patch, but I'm very glad your friends helped pull you out. I know I am only a cyber friend, but please know my email's always open and I am a good listener. :-)