Skip to main content

Mad Pride Was News to Me

I'm almost embarrassed to admit that until yesterday I didn't know there was a term for  non-stigmatizing your mental illness. It's called Mad Pride and obviously the "pride" part is a step-sister of Gay Pride, Black Pride, and all the other "pride" designations out there that I probably don't know about.

I'm embarrassed because not only do I suffer from chronic depression, but I sometimes write about it in magazines and like now, in  blogs. I even did a story on the stigma of mental illness for a well-known magazine. Until yesterday I might have thought Mad Pride meant something like "everyone is entitled to get angry once in a while, so don't fret about it." But like so many guesses of mine, I'm wrong. From what I gather Mad Pride means ending the shame of not being like the "normals," and it includes illnesses like depression, anxiety, OCD, Bipolar, and everything else on the psychologically dysfunctional spectrum. In fact it not only means ending the shame part, but it also means celebrating your differences and making good use of them to help cope with daily life.

So, according to this new philosophy, you should use your depression positively. Like say that nutty guy in North Korea--the one Trump refers to as Rocket Man--unleashes an ICBM that reaches California, the Mad Pride person would say, " Yeah it is depressing, but it could be worse. It could have reached Vegas and zapped all those fancy casinos and humongous hotels. Now at least, people can funnel their grief at losing  California treasures like Disneyland and the Heard Castle by gambling away their 401Ks at one-armed bandits. To the Mad Pride person it would be totally reasonable to dump your life's savings in the sewer if Kim Jong in North Korea decides to nuke Big Sur. It would be a realistic, positive way to deal with stress. After all, the mushroom cloud might not make it to the Strip and even if it does, you could die knowing you did all you could to become a Big Winner.

https://www.vice.com/en_uk/article/7bxqxa/mad-pride-remembering-the-uks-mental-health-pride-movement
Do not read any further lest I misinform you. Just went to the above link and found out that Mad Pride was over in 2012. I've always been late for things, but this takes the cake. To make things worse when I google "Mad Pride" and "movement," I find lots of links. From the sound of things, it sounds like those in Mad Pride were having the time of their life, marching, telling off normals that mad was better, and spreading the word that mad can be fun. And truthfully "mad" is not always like Sally Field in that badass film where she had 50 personalities and was abused by her mom. That was horrible. Mad can sometimes be fun like in manic depression when my college roommate went flying down the dorm halls naked as a jay bird. And wouldn't you know it, but I go and miss the whole Mad Pride movement when I could have been tweeting and blogging to other Mad people. This is what always happens to me. I hear about things too late and never get a chance to yuk it up. No wonder I'm always depressed.

Plus you'd think one of those fancy shrinks I went to would have told me about the Mad Pride Movement, but no. All they cared about was my forking over money so they could go to some uppity professional shrink conference in Bal Harbor, Florida, where they probably spent the time talking about the Mad Pride Movement. It's times like these I really hate shrinks. They hate competition and anything that smacks of that is put in the slush pile. Recovery Inc. a nonprofit that has helped people for more than 50 years? Not a peep about it from 9 out of 10 shrinks. Would it have killed one of them to suggest I go to a Mad Pride meeting. It only goes to show you. You've got to advocate for yourself; the pros won't help you and even Readers Digest skipped over that one. Even the LBGT people got their 15 minutes of media fame. Everyone heard about Gay Liberation, Mad Pride should have had equal time. I don't think I'm ever going to get over this.

The whole thing makes me not only mad in the angry-I-could-kill-a-few-PHDs-sense, but angry in the new liberate-your-brain sense. What do you think, fellow mad person???

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I Never Had a Nickname

They say it's the little things in life that destroy marriages: he doesn't lower the toilet seat; she never listens to his work anecdotes; he eats with his fingers; she never can find her car keys. The same adage applies to self image or self concept. It's the little things that can build or destroy egos. Although my parents had baby names for me that they used at times--for example, "cookie" and "pussycat," these never morphed into appropriate adult nick names. For instance, no one in my house ever called me Jan. That would have been the most common and appropriate nickname for "Janice," but no one ever came up with it. Was it a severe lack of creativity? I don't think so. In hindsight it said more about parenting style than it did about their opinion of me. My parents ran a rather strict household. We laughed but it was either behind the parents' backs or at a time when my father decreed a joke or anecdote was funny. My point is tha...

Bitching is My Life

Yeah, This is another one of my bitch/gripe essays. How can I keep up the challenging pace? It’s not easy but I work at it. I try to find something negative in everything I see and do. And it works for me. Just yesterday in AZ everyone woke up to a blue sky and warm temps, but I quickly dispensed with that happy development. All I had to do was walk out on our fake grass and I was hit with one big negative after the other. Our fake grass seems to have been infected with real grass and the two don’t complement each other. So I bitched about that over breakfast and pretty soon I had my husband outside pulling out the real stuff. Boy was he miserable! But I scored again! Then in the afternoon I went to the supermarket, and sure enough, I found something else to gripe about. It’s an upscale store. I mean it’s got a Starbucks, a salad bar, about a million bottles of French and domestic wine…..and a homeless guy hanging around at one of the exits. That’s disgusting. Maybe most people do...

Should Old Acquaintances Be Forgot?

In the Scottish dialect of the old New Year's Eve song Auld Lang Syne, the composer posits the question: Should old acquaintances be forgot? The short answer to this is "Sometimes." One example will suffice. A "friend" of mine emailed me the other day and although she is not a writer, her words spoke plenty. Her first rebuke was that I don't answer her calls, and this is a claim I cannot deny. But the accusation was caustic, mean-spirited--it was as if I had neglected to visit her in the hospital, that's how grievous my omission was. She insinuated so much by those few harsh words. Why did she call? Purportedly to inform me of her physical status and that of her dog Murph. Being the obedient child I still am, I did call her afterwards, and we spoke. Mostly S spoke of her new illness--osteoarthritis of the spine--and her dog's possible diagnosis of valley fever. I listened and listened and listened until I just couldn't take it any more. The...