On blaming the victim (for lack of a better term).

My little sister, Nicole, in the sage wisdom of her 23 years (note the sarcasm, should it not be directly inferable), suggested that my circumstance was of my choosing, that somehow or another my diagnosis, the chaos that followed it, and the assortment of seemingly ill-advised decisions was a conscious series of events, the outcome of which were voluntary.

Oh young sister, learn a thing or two, inform yourself about mental illness in general and bipolar disorder in particular before you further expose and embarrass yourself, I implored. This rejection of her sentiment was expressed directly and somewhat indirectly, but it reeked of blaming the victim, for lack of a better term.

First and foremost, I am not my diagnosis. Transitively said, a person with cancer is not cancer nor are they hardly “cancerous” nor carcinogenic, nor anything of the sort. My diagnosis is an incidental, genotypic marker of sorts, one which hardly defines me in sum. Secondly, the diagnosis, and any of the decisions made under the influence of mania and or depression, should be taken for what they were. This is not to run and hide behind the, “it wasn’t me, it was my illness” excuse, but if temporary insanity holds up in the court of law, why not that of familial opinion? Furthermore, aside from semantic distinction and connotative understanding, if someone can succinctly explain the difference between an excuse and an explanation, this armchair psycholinguistic fanatic is all ears. But I digress.

For a corollary that reeks of victim-pointing let us take a look at the hot girl (my ex-girlfriend, Maria, for example) who despite her best efforts is continually hit upon by any number of thirsty guys in a given day. Not once while being regaled with her stories of potential suitors harassing her did I suggest to my former flame, even for a moment, that there was anything she should have been doing to thwart their suggestive approaches. She dressed modestly, yet because of her dollface and enticing assets, regardless of her sartorial choices, she, as a waitress, often found herself on the receiving end of many a cat call.

Let’s take this scenario a step further if you will allow. Let’s talk rape. There are any number of reported cases when a female will be raped more than once. How would it sound if that victim’s family members were to say, “Becky, you slut, you could have avoided this from happened multiple times… You should have taken even more precaution, etc, etc.” It sounds horrible plain and simple.

So when the bipolar guy goes off the deep end more than once, yet he is on his medication and going to therapy per doctor’s orders, somehow it’s his fault that these episodes keep on occurring as if there was something more he could or should have been doing. (Ok, I lied, one final corollary. If my diagnosis was cancer, as suggested above, or any physical illness for that matter, and the tumor kept coming back and resurfacing after extended periods of remission, how fair would it be to say, “Chris, you’ve been in chemo, you’re taking your pills,” that cancer you chose to have really is your fault. Yes, folks, it would sound as ridiculous as it does sadistic.)

For everyone’s information, now that I am out of the house, I am on my meds (20 mg of abilify daily) In fact, just to quiet any future or further complaints from the peanut gallery and further ensure my sustained wellness, I may up this dose or add a mood stabilizer to the mix, since abilify is typically classified as an antipsychotic, which can complemented by stabilizers).

Teaser for you folks at home: In my next post, tentatively titled, “Finally Homeless” I hope to further discuss privilege, and what may seem like a masochistic rejection of it, as it regards my current(ly changing) circumstance.

It will further get you up to speed, but the narrative posts, and my non-creative, story-telling self, had to take a break from the narrative updates, to give you a piece of my mind, as I prefer to do. Gah, attempting to improve on the biographical sketching though, for your entertainment and my own, my look into creative writing techniques, so as to avoid the linearity and dryness that may have affected the readability of my last few posts (apologies, folks.)