Living with mental illness stirs up all kinds of emotions. Some, like anxiety, depression, moodiness, insecurity, and even abject terror, are anticipated; even understood by those of us who experience them. I mean, of course being in the midst of a depressive episode is going to result in depression – the name is kind of a spoiler. One emotion that often comes up, but isn’t discussed nearly as much as it should be, is anger. Not only is it not discussed, but I’ve had therapists downplay how impact it can be for a person experiencing mental illness.
I don’t mean anger as an outward symptom of mental illness. I’m talking about inward anger experienced as a response to the illness. When mental illness hits, it takes away so much of what makes a person themselves. For example, I’m usually focused, witty, somewhat clever, logical, and capable. When I’m sick, however, I’m the exact opposite of those traits. Eventually, my thoughts start racing until they aren’t mine anymore, heading in all directions, finding ways to convince me that my greatest fears are true. It’s hard to contribute anything meaningful to a friendship, workplace, or even conversation when half of your brain is focused on finding the worst-case scenario in every thought and the other half is desperately trying to keep you alive.
Of course a natural response to this loss of self is going to include some degree of anger. Feeling your thoughts race uncontrollably is frustrating. Realizing that reason and logic won’t fix it is maddening; rage inducing, even. Those of us with mental health issues are legitimately smarter than our anxiety, so why does it keep winning? Why is it that a person can wind up sobbing on someone else’s couch despite knowing full well that there is absolutely no good reason to do so? It’s easy to get mad at yourself for struggling at things you used to do with ease, like controlling your thoughts or coping well with anxiety.
Why can’t I just logic my way out of this?
When rage isn’t being directed at racing thoughts and an uncontrollable brain, it’s often felt as a response to how the healthcare system responds to mental illness. especially for those who cannot afford a psychologist. Though there are volumes of research indicating that the best way to treat most mental illnesses is through a combination of talk therapy and medication, OHIP covered care is short-term and reactive at best. Mood Disorder Clinics across the province are even warning patients that the clinic can no longer be used for ongoing care, leaving those of us who lack benefits without the kind of care all medical research says we need. How could you feel anything less than anger at that?
Anger may also be felt as a reaction to your diagnosis. It does seems deeply unfair that mental illnesses are so vastly different from other chronic conditions. Why couldn’t mental health ailments be more like other chronic illnesses – ones where dosages of medications like insulin depend on predictable factors like diet or lifestyle, or ones where you can take a test to determine your dosage? Why is it so hard to get the right diagnosis in the first place? Why do we have to endlessly fiddle with drugs and dosages and times of day, only to arrive at a solution that is in no way permanent and may change depending on stress or hormones or the weather?
Why, after 20 years and seven SSRIs and six different dosages of an SNRI and three mental health leaves, are we still playing Yahtzee with my medication?
Unfortunately, I don’t have any answers. To be honest, I’m still just as filled with anger as anyone else facing long wait lists and a healthcare system that seems entirely disinterested in offering any real help. What I have learned is that there are ways to feel that anger dissipate. Being your own advocate and insisting on the kind of care you know you need is hard, but it is one way you can channel that anger into something productive. If self-advocacy is unattainable at the moment, try to find a compassionate ear or friendly eye. More than anything else, use that anger to motivate you – keep up with your doctor’s appointments and medication adjustments and lifestyle changes. Acknowledge the anger, and then use it to prove your depression wrong.
