Friday, 6 February 2015

What's The Difference



Extracted From The Mind Of: Lui P

Hey. 
Boyfriend here. 

So I’m the hero?

It’s an easy title to accept when you consider what it means to most people. They only see the flattery attached to it, a single sentiment they can hold onto and it’s real because it came from someone else, its not a delusion of grandeur, a deed was done.

Well hooray for me I guess right!? 

We are forgetting something crucial, it's probably the same thing that makes the hero smile awkwardly and almost reluctantly, during his hero parade. Its the freaking tragedy. The person or thing that needed a hero, the fact that someone was that close. 

Granted, there is always chance, an accident or an honest human error, a dog with rabies, etc. A large part of it is malicious human behavior and we wind up needing to be saved from each other. 

Sometimes there are situations that just  happen.

No one is at fault.
No one was negligent.
The options were all bad from the get go. 

Im here to talk about the latter.

We live in the free world. We pay taxes, we vote, we are patriotic because....well we are. Hell I’m patriotic. There was 500 or so murders in all of Canada last year. When you ignore accidents and human error, it wouldn't seem like there was a whole lot of opportunity to be a hero. 

Startlingly low number.

What if I told you there were 2.1 million Canadians right now, that needed a hero.

Thats not a guess, that's how many people suffer from a form of mental illness.


The Love Story

It’s true, I love the shit out of her. She is my only everything. She drives me, she saved me. She is a better reason then I’ve ever had. 

When I met her we were both ‘normal’, we like the same stuff, everything lined up, I mean it, everything. Once in a while she would get pissed off and leave, but we always wound up back where we started, indescribably attracted to each other on every level. 

She was fiery, ballsy, unpredictable, different. After we got close enough that she divulged her condition to me, it explained a lot. Didn't change anything, it just gave me a point of reference to begin to put her in a box I could understand. 

That bothers the shit out of me now. 

In a way, I truly believed I had her figured out and defined better when I described her as "simply unique and unpredictable". What the fuck is wrong with that? Why does it need a title that can group her with other similarly unpredictable and unique human beings. Why? So they can treat them. I get that. A bi polar episode is the kind of thing you would prevent if you could. And you can. The pills will work, if you take them regularly, you’ll stop being ‘crazy’. Perfectly predictable.


Think surviving vs. living.

I have watched this girl do it alone. Without doctors, without therapists, social workers, psychiatrists, NO PILLS. With diet, exercise and meditation. She has gotten BETTER

She is... We are living
We are who we are. 


I once said that a minute of pain is worth an hour of bliss. 
Being the boyfriend of a girl with bipolar is not an easy thing to wrap your head around. Its got to be worth it. She is worth it. Her. Not a quasi sedated version that is ok with just surviving.

THE episode. 
It happened, it was ugly, I missed work and she visited the hospital. Naturally, the police were in tow. I wasn't scared, I apparently really needed to talk. they started asking questions like the police are supposed to. I answered and they quickly realized things weren't what they seemed. We mostly talked after that point and they were honestly great. 

They gave me a number to call and I did. Then they gave me a number to call and I did, then they put me on a 5 day waiting list to talk to someone, then they gave me another number to call, and I did. 

This number was the prominent hospital in town, the one that was supposed to be able to help. I opened up to the lady on the phone and told her my problem. 

My problem.
Not my girlfriends.
Mine. 

She was getting better and I was slipping. I needed help. The lady insisted that I needed to get her to see a psychiatrist. I asked her frankly "will this doctor make her take pills, because I know she wont."

Yes. 
Plainly yes. 

I almost caved, in a moment of weakness I almost forgot why I had called. 

"I NEEDED HELPThis wasn't for her, why are you telling me to take her to a psychiatrist for some fucking pills?!

After a mild verbal lashing, I bid her a good day and kept searching. I finally found a place, and a woman, named Megan. 

She was warm and listened and understood it was about me. Understood why my girlfriend chose this path to wellness, and helped. She honestly helped, set me up with a group counseling thing, and just made me feel better about things. She made a comment about being very close to mental illness herself so I asked, and it turns out she was in a similar situation as my girlfriend.

So I ask myself...

Why did every institution that was supposed to help, fail.
When all I needed was a calm voice and kindred situation.

So who is the hero? 

Certainly not me. She is doing it herself. Im just the boyfriend, Im not doing anything you wouldn't do for your wife/girlfriend. She is still that fiery, ballsy, unpredictable girl I fell in love with, Im just supporting her and being there when she needs me. The only difference is no one else is.

p.s.
2.1 million.

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