Earning a crust.

I haven’t posted for a few months. I’ve been busy. I also had a technical issue with the site that I have only just resolved. So I’ve been off the grid for a while.

Things have been good. Christmas was spent in the happy company of family and friends and passed without incident. I was a little bit high which is not unusual for that time of the year but it was very manageable. Being aware of it was half the battle. My medications were increased slightly and it all settled down quickly and I’m back on an even keel again. I feel good, I feel content and it has been a good start to the new year.

This time of year always causes me to reflect on my blessings. A degree of gratitude helps sustain me and face the difficult times ahead. Chief among assets is my family. Thankfully they are all well, happy and dealing with the vicissitudes of life. They bring me constant joy and are an unerring source of support. We live in a lovely home and we have no financial worries. As a bonus, I have a job that I enjoy.

And that is what is on my mind today. I read somewhere that 50% of people with a psychiatric illness are unemployed. It seemed like a very high figure to me. And what are the reasons for it?

Undoubtedly, some individuals with mental illness are so severely affected that they are not able to work. That is a sobering reality and it saddens me to think of someone who suffers that much. Some people must face discrimination because of their illness but I like to think that this is becoming less frequent. And I have to feel that some people just don’t have the necessary support.

It got me to wondering about my own employment history. My first episode of mania was as an Intern at the age of twenty four. I became convinced that the IRA were sending me coded messages over the radio. I was very unwell and ended up in a psychiatric ward. After that episode I was off work for nearly a year and was advised to “go to England” to continue my career. This was my first experience of stigma and so much would be different if I heeded the advice.

But I stuck to my guns and eventually restarted my career in an Irish hospital. In 1998 I began training in Anaesthesia and I’m still a practicing Anaesthetist today. My working life has been punctuated by periods of ill health since then but I have always managed to resume employment once well again.

Why is that the case when so many others are unemployed?

Is my bipolar disorder not as severe as the next patients? Well, I would question that. I’ve had my moments. But thankfully I have had extended periods of stability and doubtless that is a factor.

But more important, in my estimation, is the level of support I have had over the years that made all the difference. My wife, who is immensely strong, has been by my side all the way. I have a wonderful relationship with my psychiatrist without whom I would still be struggling. Years of psychotherapy played a part (I recently parted company with my therapist by mutual agreement and I’m doing fine without the extra help he gave me). The surgeons I work with were patient when I was absent and the hospital gave me the space I needed to heal. It is the blessing of all this support that I think about and for which I am grateful.

So I think it is a combination of things that keeps me working. But it is the love of my family and friends that makes the biggest difference.

Of course you need something else. You need to be resilient. You have to get back up when you’ve been knocked down. Sometimes I have a cry and then I try again. It gets better with time. Sometimes you need a sense of humour. Sometimes you need to be able to say…….fuck ’em if they can’t take a joke!