Recently a commenter talked about how she felt taken advantage of by a loved one who had schizoaffective disorder. This particular individual seemed to take a lot from his family and gave nothing in return. He refused to shower, help out around the house, pay for anything and would eat out at restaurants with no money and then insist his family come down to the restaurant and pay for him. The person with schizoaffective disorder was being medically treated and the loved one felt that he was just manipulating the people around him. Now, I can’t say what the motivation was in this scenario, but certainly, this commenter is not the only one to have found herself in that situation. So the question is, is mental illness an excuse for bad behaviour?

Living with a mental illness isolates us because it can make us feel as if we don't measure up to other people. To people we do not know but wish to know. Or to people we know well. Mental illness can create an isolating and lonely life, void of friendship, of meaningful relationships.

Although it may at times be difficult to find, there is psychiatric help out there. However, in order to access that help, you need to make that first step through the door.  Not surprisingly, it turns out that the first step is one of the most difficult ones to make.

You, the target of verbal abuse, have one mission in your efforts to end verbal abuse: keep your emotions in check. Your verbal abuser subscribes to the opposite mission. Your abuser wants you to lose emotional control because when that happens, you've lost control of you. When you lose control of you, your abuser snatches control of the conversation and you.

Fat. Stupid. Ugly. Weak. Not good enough. Self-hatred is a core feeling in many people suffering from eating disorders. Including me. I've been having an internal war with myself today. I'm too fat. I shouldn't eat. You don't deserve to eat. Don't be so weak... My head hurt. My stomach hurt. Even my brain hurt. Eventually I give in, starving. Then... You're a fat, disgusting pig.

When people realize they have a mental illness like bipolar disorder or schizophrenia, one of the first feelings they have is fear. And there’s a lot to be afraid of. There are the treatment, doctors, symptoms, side effects and then there’s the illness itself. It’s completely reasonable to feel scared in that situation. And in that moment, or possibly in a moment shortly thereafter, the fear of abandonment becomes a reality. A very reasonable and realistic fear is that people will abandon you because of the mental illness.

  I'm easily irritated right now. I'm easily irritated by the noise, the dog drool, and the pissy cat. Yes, I have a mental illness or two, but I'm not irritated because I'm mentally ill. But I am irritated, okay? And again, not because I live with a mental illness!

I have Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), trauma disorders that are both: 1) responses to overwhelming stress, and 2) sources of continuing high stress. Cortisol is an adrenal hormone our bodies create to help us cope with extreme stress, physical and emotional. I began researching the signs and symptoms of cortisol imbalance when it occurred to me that living with DID and PTSD (or any chronically, very-high-stress condition or situation) would logically mean living with elevated levels of cortisol. And whaddyaknow? The top five symptoms are also the top five most frustrating, debilitating, and chronic issues in my life.

If you’re anything like me, and I hope for your sake and the sake of your children that you are not, you’ve wrestled with your mental illness secure in the certainty that society cared about you only to the extent that it fervently wished you would excuse yourself from the room and be scarce in the way voles are scarce; that is to say, demonstrate your respect for “nice” people by remaining invisible to them. Frankly, there is something soothing about looking at the ladder which leads up and up to society’s golden promises only to realize that the first few rungs of yours have been sawed in half and you won’t even have a chance to fall off, much less climb. Soothing because, in life, it is comforting to know where one stands, or, as is the case here, doesn’t stand. If you aren’t shocked and surprised by every disrespectful snub and injustice, you cannot be disappointed and consequently, will harbor no resentment. (To put it differently, it is the illusion of a just world that causes heartache, not the sting of an unjust one.)

When deciding on ending a relationship, the first question we ask ourselves is: How do I know when enough is enough? Someone very special and beautiful asked me that question this week. In our culture, we are faced with all kinds of messages about relationships: see the good in people, relationships take work, rise above, and don't have too many expectations. Then, don't put up with anyone's disrespect, take care of yourself, set limits, leave abuse. These messages convolute all our decisions on how to set boundaries in relationships or know when it is right for us to leave them. We don't know who to blame, us or them.  Add to it worry and fear about being alone, or being abandoned, or about other people judging you, and it becomes a maze to wade through.