I Manage My Mental Health for Me

Justin Jagels
Invisible Illness
6 min readAug 5, 2019

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Photo by Arthur Brognoli from Pexels

It is tough to separate the treatment of mental illness from the effects the illness has on ourselves and others. It’s hard to see the tears in the eyes of a loved one and not feel responsible.

It can seem logical to believe we should seek to get better for them. It would show that you see and care about the pain of our loved ones. It could be a way to take away the pain they feel.

The things they need might not be the right path for an overall treatment approach, though. It is possible that a critical box must be checked before addressing the issues in question correctly.

So, should we really be getting better for ourselves?

I could see the pain written in all of my wife’s features.

I had a hard time meeting her gaze on her first visit to see me. I had checked myself into an inpatient ward the day prior. I could see the pain and worry in her beautiful eyes. She is not one to cry, but there were tears there.

I hated what my mental illnesses did to her. I hated what they did to everyone close to me. I could go so far as to pick out specific symptoms that caused the most pain here and there. I knew what they needed.

I pledged to work harder at me when I left the hospital.

I took the list of symptoms that caused my loved one’s pain and attacked them with a passion. I wanted to get better in those areas because I could stand the thought of hurting them as they tried to support me.

I had enough of the pain I was causing.

It didn’t seem right to let them suffer. The very process of giving support to me was complicated. Then my symptoms came in that often target them directly with barbed comments and intentional slights based on perceived wrongs.

There was a problem with this focus.

I was mostly taking a symptom and working backward for something to solve. In practice, I was trying to solve problems directly at the symptom level. I was trying to treat the result rather than the source, and it was destined to fail for a lack of depth and a complete picture.

I was exceedingly frustrated.

I saw no results, but I wanted to get better for them so desperately. I tried to make them happy, but it seemed like my efforts were making it worse instead of better. It was like my attack on the things that hurt them only caused more hurt.

I was lost.

I didn’t know what to do because it didn’t seem like I could find the answers. Everything wrong was staring me in the face, taunting me and tormenting my loved ones. I couldn’t touch it, though. It was behind the glass I couldn’t break.

I changed my mindset.

I wish I could say I had an epiphany that made me see the light. The reality was that I gave up on trying to fix myself for them. I couldn’t do it anymore because I didn’t know how to do it in the first place.

I started to pick up the pieces of myself and set about reassembling them. Without a clear intention to do so, I started working on myself for myself rather than those around me. I let the needs of others go because I couldn’t meet them.

I started with an effort to know myself. Over weeks and months, I created what I later called an emotional ruler. It contains all sets of emotional responses that fall within the realm of logical or rational reactions.

This ruler, when used, allowed me to observe and stop emotional outbursts related to my bipolar disorder before they happened. I was surprised to see that my relationship with my wife and children improved after only a few weeks of using it.

I observed what I was doing.

It came to me that I was doing what I should have been doing all along.

I can’t fix me for someone else. I can only fix me for me and let the consequences of those corrections carry forth into life around me.

That holds for most cases of mental illness. If we try to focus on what we do to others and fix ourselves for them within the care itself, it is easy for the roots to be lost for all of the leaves.

With a symptom level focus, the cause cannot be addressed. It is the act of putting a Band-Aid on a profoundly internal wound. The blood will come again if a way is not found to address the internal issues.

When I started focusing on me and what I needed to be healthy, I was able to see the whole of the problem with more clarity.

For instance, I could see that a component of my trust issues comes during periods of uncontrolled situations. The issue ties back to my childhood abuse. When I drew that connection, I was able to bring the two therapies together and practice the idea of releasing control.

The change accounted for a drastic reduction in the number of symptoms on something I had been wrestling with for years. It wasn’t until I brought it within that I could see the truth of the matter. I still have more work to do on this, but it helps.

It is good to have reasons to heal.

I comment here about healing for you, but don’t let that imply that it’s not a good thing to have a support system that drives healing. I want to recover for my family and loved ones, in general. I want them to live without worry.

I must separate that from my treatment, though.

They may experience the symptom and I may mention them in therapy, but the approach and solutions must come from within me. I take the telltales within, work through a solution, then bring it back out for practice on the world.

The process is for me.

It is for my benefit. Every problem I work on has to be brought back to its core components inside my mind, my memories, and my personality. The fixes are implemented to help me handle those things.

The outward effects are a bonus. I only got them when I stopped trying to get them.

This approach reduces how often I get down on myself.

I am solving the same issues that I sought solutions for before. The difference is that the perspective is different, and this somehow changes the gravity of my failures. I’m not letting other people down, only stumbling within.

Escaping that feeling of failure was a relief.

The sense of letting someone down I often felt was worse than the actual failure itself. I was free to work and stumble as I needed to until I found the right answers.

Reaching management is something I’m doing for me.

My family will benefit in so many ways when I reach management. They will be able to live and interact with someone fully prepared to be with them at a healthy level. Even along the way, the health of our relationships improve as time passes.

The gains I see do not change the fact that, in the end, the journey and the recovery process is something that happens with and for me alone. I will be the real winner in the game of management.

That is how I know it must be in my life.

The idea may be unique to me, but my observations show that the approach should be on my healing. It is acceptable to allow my life to shape the treatment goals, but my real focus is on the internal struggle.

It seems best to allow your loved ones to reap the benefits with you, rather than placing them on your back where they will bare you down without their knowledge.

My suggestion?

Stay light and heal you. Let the rest come as it will.

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Originally published at https://justinjagels.com on August 5, 2019.

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Justin Jagels
Invisible Illness

I am manager of bipolar disorder and anxiety, and PTSD. I write about my experiences in the hopes of helping others.