“I just can’t get motivated today. I’m so depressed.”
Those words, spoken by many a fast food employee on any given day (and other industries, lest anyone think I’m profiling), are just about the stupidest words any human can utter. Some other nominees for Verbal Diarrhea from the Great Uneducated include:
“I think he might be a little bit Asperger’s. You know, he’s like Sheldon on that TV show.”
“I’m sorry, my A.D.D. is acting up.”
“Oh, you know how she is about wiping your feet when you walk in the house. It’s an OCD thing.”
When did it become okay for all the armchair psychiatrists to not only diagnose mental illnesses (incorrectly, I must say) but also to justify shitty behavior by attaching letters to the end of the sentence? Here’s my breakdown of it:
Asperger’s – “No, he doesn’t have Asperger’s, he’s unique or odd. And you’re not a doctor.” This one gets even better when ADULTS DIAGNOSE THEMSELVES. Listen, fucktard, you don’t have Asperger’s, you’re a shit who treats people so badly that you have no friends. You do, however, have Shit Who Has No Friends-itis.
A.D.D. – So you forgot to listen to what I was saying while we talked face to face, and then you didn’t write it down anywhere that I needed you to do something. You’re failure to complete the task that I asked you to do has nothing to do with your non-existent A.D.D. and a lot to do with your own self-importance which has led you to zone out while people talk to you.
OCD – Get me started. I dare you. You don’t have OCD, you just want everything your way, including the pens on your desk and the bottles of shampoo under your cabinet. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with wanting all of YOUR things put exactly where YOU had them, but don’t make excuses by pretending to have a debilitating mental illness. Own that shit, and bitch slap anyone who moves your stapler. Possibly WITH the stapler.
Depression – This is the one that really pisses me off. Depression has become synonymous with two other very serious problems. The first one is outright sadness. You are NOT depressed when your dog gets hit by a car and smeared down the highway for a few hundred yards. You’re SAD. There’s a difference. One is caused by a chemical misalignment in the human brain, and the other is caused by a dog puddle. Big difference. The other reason people claim they’re depressed (this one is for long-term sadness) is because they have made stupid decisions and jacked up their lives, and now they don’t want to get out of bed. Again, NOT THE RESULT OF A MEDICAL CONDITION, but rather the result of you deciding to drop out of high school and take that job selling curling irons from a kiosk in the mall. You’re life legitimately sucks, but instead of pretending to have a disease, refer back to OCD and own that shit. You did it to yourself, not your brain.
Internet people, listen up. Mental illness is very real, very debilitating, and affects lots of people. Lots and lots of people. And when you pretend that it affects you, too, you make all of those other people who really do suffer look stupid. Because when they do have to say to someone, “I’m having some trouble with me depression right now,” or “I’m going to a residential program for my OCD,” other people roll their eyes at them all because YOU made a joke out of their diseases.
The reason for the rant today is twofold. First, I’m out of coffee creamer. But second and probably more importantly, I’m sick of people tossing around these medical conditions like they’re not only a punchline, but like they’re the excuse for everything that is screwed up about themselves. I’ve decided to highlight how stupid they sound by blaming everything on actual recognized-by-society but pointlessly unrelated medical conditions.
If I don’t complete an assignment that is due, it will now be because I’m feeling all lupusy today.
If I’m rude to you in the grocery store, it’s just because I have eczema.
If I don’t want to talk to you, it’s not your fault or my fault, it’s because I feel my prostate is giving me problems again.
See? Completely stupid. So let’s start a campaign right now. I tried making a Twitter hashtag–#MentalIllnessIsNotAPunchline–to raise awareness, but it was too long and didn’t leave me room to rant, so I’m shortening it to #Don’tBeAJerk. If you ARE a jerk, I’ll get all bipolar up on you and slap you with my stapler.
10 thoughts on “This Ugly Rant Makes My Vitiligo Act Up”
OMG, this was so perfect. One of the main reasons I left my ex was over this issue. I do actually suffer — SUFFER — Depression. As in therapy and medication, recovered suicide attempts, etc. When I first realized that I wasn’t okay, I told my ex I was afraid for myself. His response? “Grow up. Build a bridge and get over it. There’s nothing to be sad about.” For realz. He said all that. Any wonder why I left his sorry ass? And to think, he is just one of many who simply don’t get it. Depression — and mental illness as a whole — isn’t funny. Why is it so hard to understand? Why must people be such a-holes?
First, thank you, because I’ve felt like this a time or two. Second, I have been diagnosed by a licensed physician with Generalized Anxiety Disorder (which means my brain is messed up); and I felt offended at one point while reading this. I’m sure you don’t care about that, and I’m sure I don’t either, because in the end, I really like this post and am glad someone finally addressed this issue – and it wasn’t me! – and I didn’t offend anyone with my abrasive opinion! Third, again, thank you for saying this all so simply and with just the right amount of rough humor. You’re great and I enjoy your posts! 🙂
Uh oh, NONE of it should have have offended you, so I’m sorry if the point I made didn’t come out right. I was speaking specifically ABOUT people like you (and my daughter) as having very real diagnoses that the rest of society gets to cheapen by throwing these terms around.
No, you’re fine. I think I just read it wrong or something. No biggie – I’m still a fan. lol
Oh Lorca! Thank you! I am so weary of arm-chair quarterbacks who diagnose everything under the sun and then spend days on the internet studying their condition (or yours) and seeking alternative cures! One of my sister is a case in point. She’s always diagnosing herself, her children, me, our parents, our other sister… It especially bugs me because my brother-in-law (other sister) is one of the best-known child psychiatrists around, specializing in ADD, ADHD, Autism and Aspergers and he gets so many patients who have been treated with multiple alternative medications and seen, basically, witch doctors.
All right already, maybe I don’t have Asperger Syndrome, but I’m on the autistic spectrum somewhere, along with almost everyone I know. 🙂
We’re ALL on the spectrum…we’re at the not autistic end! That’s why it’s called a spectrum! 🙂
OK….where to start?
Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!
I suffer from Bipolar, ADHD, PTSD and some other 3 and 4 letter syndromes/disorders. I can not begin to tell you how bad i want to smack somebody upside the head so hard that their teeth rattle when they say, “I’m depressed.” No, taint stain, you ain’t depressed, you have the fucking BLUES or are sad! Etc, etc, etc.
In the interest of brevity, and repeating everything you wrote, I won’t go on…you get the point.
Again, thank you for writing this, Lorca. It is brilliant!
You’re welcome, and I’m sorry that it’s so long overdue. I’ll admit I do have a dog in this fight. My daughter is autistic, but also has a diagnosis of juvenile bipolar disorder. That’s a condition which some psychiatrists (thankfully, not hers) will even tell you to your face does not exist. WTF? The “industry” seriously believes you can’t even have bipolar disorder until you’re at least sixteen. A good number of people have also told me “it doesn’t matter if she has bipolar” since she already has autism…because those two things are totally the same and therefore cancel each other out. Reaching for my stapler now.
Great words that needed to be said. I have worked with institutionalized mentally ill people and for them life is agonizingly difficult. Sounding like the old lady I am let’s start a campaign to bring back common human decency in our dealings with each other…and don’t move my stapler!