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This hits so very close to home; my neurologist has done more for me in treating the PSYCHOLOGICAL fallout, from my familial tremor, e. t.,
“Parkinson’s Lite” or whatever verbiage you care to apply, than she has for the actual condition itself.

That was the easy part; the hard part is untangling a lifetime of existential depression, bipolar behavior and the madness that ensues when things are “out of kilter”. I manage the lying bitch of depression like nothing else, because I don’t want to become a statistic, and I won’t be a burden to others. This is what depression TELLS you; you’re worthless, you’re talentless and no one gives a shit. Nothing could be further from the truth, but if someone so incredibly gifted as Robin Williams — desperate though his comedy always seemed to be to me — then those of us who suffer this disease are not safe.

Talk, shout, scream it from the mountain tops, yell it at passing cars, tell everyone you meet that you are MENTALLY ILL. I have seen God in ice cubes. I’ve licked windows during a psychotic break, and then tried to sleep in the fridge. Thank God I have people who understand me and CARE. I turn that back and try and help those who are hurting; we are legion. It is unconscionable that this should have happened to this gentle, kind man. Let us try and not let it happen again.

 

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Posted August 14, 2014 by violafury in Uncategorized

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