A sometimes touchy subject . . .

My issues were brought on myself. *sigh* I don't really like telling people about this....
But I've already said a lot in the \"talking to yourself\" thread, so no reason to hide it now.
From the day I was born until I was about 8 I didn't have friends. I didn't know anyone other than my family. I lived in the middle of nowhere and had to get along with myself mostly. Eventually it got to the point that I created an 'imaginary friend' At first it was harmless, no big deal. But as time went by, it seemed that the imaginary friend was growing more and more realistic. By the time I was 12 I started hearing voices. At first I thought I was just hearing people around me or w/e. But soon I noticed that no one would be around and I'd still hear the sounds. They were kind of like murmurs at first. A year or so later I could understand them. They were still just murmurs but they made sense to me. I started making conversation and I found out it had a name and a personality. My 'imaginary friend' from so long ago was real to me. It's how I cope with reality. I retreat into my own little world and talk with him. When I'm pissed or depressed, I seek his council. He calms me down and makes me happy. It's where I got the name Skie from. One day he just told me that his name was Skie, and I've been obcessed with him. It's kind of like having a person/partner/friend that you can't live without. If they were to die, so would you. If that makes sense...

WOW!
Well if they had it they would understand, no matter what it was
Maybe you should send them to a doctor, because you are right, things aren't so simple.

We all have our problems whether we are aware of it or not. Sometimes it's just easier to ignore them. My husband was diagnosed with bipolar disorder about a two and a half ago and, now that I know more, I realize that I should have seen the signs that something was desperately wrong a long time before. It's been a steady progression of the illness over the years and we could have gotten him the help he needed before it got so bad but we both pretended it wasn't there.

He hasn't been able to work for better than a year now because it got so bad before he received treatment. He's tried to go back twice but the company pushed him so hard to get back to full time quickly that he relapsed. Now he's afraid to go back because he thinks it will happen again. So, in the meantime I've become my husbands caretaker.

It's hard. When you are having to support the household on your own you feel you have so little left in you. My day is filled with pills, appointments and treatments that I have to make sure he gets. I have a full time job. There's animals to be cared for too, bills to be paid and the home to maintain.

Sometimes I don't want to come home because I don't know if my husband will be there or a manifestation of a disease. Yet I always go home. I check regularly on a friend of mine who is fighting a severe depression and make sure she gets what she needs. I helped another friend through a terrible ordeal with a boyfriend suffering from bipolar disorder but refusing to get the treatment he needed to stay balanced. And yet, there's no time to tend to myself.

I'm not diagnosed. But I've encountered enough mental illness to know there is something wrong. But it's not something I'm willing to look in to. Not now. How can I care for those around me if I get bogged down in my own woes? My only solace is in conversation. That's why I started this thread. I find that letting it out sometimes releases a large part of the burden. I hope it will be of help to some of you as well.

@cemwerewolf I am sure that ignoring your problems gets you fine on the day to day routine and makes it possible for you to take care of everyone else, but when you look at the big picture, if you don't pin down what is wrong at one point, you may end up not being able to help em no more Hope that never happens for you or anyone If there wasn't for my boyfriend while i had my alarming manifestations I don't think I would care if I get better or not. Support meant everything to me and still does :kiss:

@ SkieShauphen:

A friend of mine had an imaginary friend whom was real to her. Her parents started it off - They gave her a matchbox bed and a small 'imaginary friend' who used it, when she was very young. Over time, she could see him, hear him and talk to him.

The only difference was, one day, she said that he'd gone. Just like that. She cried because she couldn't find him, but she was still relatively young when he disappeared so she's had time to adjust to 'real life'.

First, for me, it came on slowly many years ago, seeing and hearing stuff that wasn't there. They tried to tell me it was migraines, then temporal lobe seizures, and many other things that turned out wrong. Once in the hospital they tried to tell me I was schizophrenic, but that just didn't make sense to me. Finally I gave up and went to a psychiatrist on my own. He pegged me in about 45 minutes, started me on meds, and talked me through this all for years. I have been off meds (other than blessed nicotine) for about 5 years, because I was starting to have nerve damage from it. I still have minimal feeling in my fingertips and the tip of my nose. Odd. I was on about 15 different things over about 12 years, and I am so glad to be aware enough of my own moods and feelings (as is my husband, who is like my lifeguard, warning me when I am getting out of control), that I don't need to take so many drugs anymore. I had so many bad reactions to meds that my doctor wrote them up for a journal. For example, on lithium, everything dairy and produce, especially greens, smelled and tasted like rubbing alcohol. I can't tell you how much good food I threw out! But I haven't been able to have a \"regular\" job in about 12 years, and getting fired from one job was also what did it for me, what made me start to feel better, rather than overwhelmed by a very stressful job. I still imagine the few made-up characters who I \"met\" during the worst of my problems. Going with Skie's theory, I guess my name should be Cassandra. She has a few friends who I have met, one of which is a shapeshifter, which is disconcerting. Okay....now I do sound nutty, but they are all very real to me.

My daughter's imaginary friend, Paper, morphed into her pet atoms. She is the only kid I know who has a family of pet atoms. She chats with them, and plays games with them, and makes worlds for them. I don't think that's mental illness, but the sign of a very creative mind. She even made them a web site.