Guilty by reason of insanity?

Alright. You've got Major Depression, Antisocial Personality Disorder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Bipolar Disorder, Paranoid Schizophrenia, Schizo-typal Personality Disorder, and Panic Disorder.

Then there's the very general Mood Disorder NOS (NOS means "not otherwise specified", which in turn means that a person doesn't quite fit the criteria of the Diagnostical and Statistical Manual however they still display some traits of a specific disorder such as Depression or Mania.)

Oh, and don't forget Histrionic Personality Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and of course my own personal favorite, (drum roll please!)...Hypochondria.

Phew.

From what I've observed, a very high percentage of individuals diagnosed with one of these disorders functions pretty well day to day. (Of course most of them are dulled slightly with Zoloft, Lexapro, Xanex, Valium, Klonipin, Seraquil, Tenex, Lithium, Celexa, Prozac, or one of the hundreds of other psychotropic meds.) But even without meds, most of these people go about their grocery shopping, banking, crapping, sleeping, eating, laughing, crying, and yes, even breathing fairly successfully every...single...day. Of course those who are depressed would cry more intensely, and your typical bulimic would eat in a different manner. Ok.. So?

Well, if you look in the DSM-IV they list certain criteria or symptoms that must be pervasive in a person's life for them to have achieved that specific mental illness. And the clincher? In order for their behavior to become a "diagnosis", the above mentioned symptoms must prevent them from functioning in a normal manner on any given day.

I would be willing to bet some serious cash (And I'm talkin' at least $20 here, folks) that if society's ideals and individuals' awareness of them were to magically disappear that all the loopy loopersons in the world would be very content... maybe even happy. (Dear GOD, not that!)

In other words, namely mine, the mode of measuring the severity of the symptoms preventing a person from functioning in a normal manner becomes less about self-interest and the goal of inner peace and more about to what degree that person is making others uncomfortable. It's not uncommon for a therapist to invite a patient's family member or significant other to a session in order to hold the patient accountable for how their symptoms are affecting the lives of others. Hm. Couldn't the invitee's reaction to the patient's "mental illness" just be a symptom of their own? "Oh, you hate my excessive hand-washing? Maybe you have Avoidant Personality Disorder, asshole." (lol..sorry.)

Take me, for example. I battle some pretty fierce anxiety mixed with a twinge of what people in my life lovingly refer to as Hypochondria. I honestly never even gave my anxiety about possible medical ailments a second thought until almost all of my friends and loved ones teasingly said that was hypochondriac...all independently of each other. I often wonder that if I lacked the ability to understand people's reactions to my behaviors if I would be so adament about changing them. They certainly weren't concerning to me until someone pointed them out!

On some days if it was socially acceptable, I would be in the emergency room at least a couple times just to make sure that something I was experiencing wasn't a life threatening disease or condition. Hm. Ok...So what if I was? Well, I would be bothering other people, that's what. Nevermind that just having a doctor take five minutes to tell me that there's nothing wrong would instantly assuage my fears and prove to me that he or she toiled through medical school for the right reasons. Plus, that would be a hell of a lot easier than talking myself down from the anxiety.
Trust me when I say this... If I presented at Maine General Medical Center with a dull pain in my leg and told the physician that I believed I might have a blood clot (WebMD says so, by the way) the annoyance would be clear and I would feel instantly silly and self-conscious about being there.

I have little to no faith in this world's catagorization of mental illness. Each mental illness seems to be nothing more than an elevated expression of a specific aspect of the human experience. Given this, I've come to a conclusion that makes living a tad bit easier for me. Diagnosed mental illness is nothing more than acknowledgement of an emotional talent.

Sigh. This would be fucking great if we all lived in bubbles. Unfortunately, we can't get rid of each other. Carry on, carry on...and I'll save my $15 co-pay.