Manic depressives don’t like the currently fashionable label for the condition: bi-polar disorder. As Randy, who added his comment to one of my recent blogs said, this is the personality type we are stuck with and we don’t like well-meaning doctors labelling it a ‘disorder’. No manic depressive would want to minimise the difficulties the condition can cause. But most have reason to be thankful for some of its advantages.
In Darwinian terms, it has survival value, particularly when it comes to filling some of the work roles in modern society. It is particularly useful for jobs like those of the journalist, working an a big story against deadlines, and the manager who has to pull out all the stops and work for several days and nights meeting the demands of a cruciial big contract.
Manic depressives would not cope well with working 10 or 12 hours a day or more, five or six days a week, for months at a time, as is demanded by some employers in our highly competitive work places. But working those hours is almost certainly not good for the health of non-manic depressive human beings.
The term ‘bi-polar disorder’ came out of the same kind of thinking which turned rat catchers rodent operators and the elderly into senior citizens. Political correctness run wild.
Manic depressive is a good descriptive label for the condition. It is also a useful descrition for families, friends and colleagues who have to deal with them. They can be wary when they notice the switch from normal moods, to excessive elation or over-powering gloom.
The number of manic depressives who murder other people in the manic mood or kill themselves in the depressive phase is a tiny minority of the total.
Many people are much more fearful than they need be of manic depressives. This, I think, is because there is some confusion between manic depressives in the manic phase and psychopaths, schizophrenics and people who suddenly have a psychotic break. Unlike psychopaths, manic depressives do not lack any moral sense, though when manic they do pay insufficient attention to the needs of others around them. Unlike schizophrenics, they do not lack the ability to distinguish between reality and unreality, they are simply over-optimistic about what they can do themselves and what they can persuade other people to do. Unlike the person who has a psychotic break, they do not exhibit behaviour which is totally different to their behaviour in the past. (They do not, as one university lecturer I knew, suddenly believe that malign electrical forces are threatening the house and that the only way to deal with it is to turn on all the taps and leave them constantly flowing.)
This is my own rule of thumb. I am not starting a new career as a pyschiartrist. I do not envy their job in the field of mental illness, where there is so much which still do not know. Particularly, since the individuals they may be trying to heal, may happen to be schizophenics as well as manic depressives, etc, etc. But I do wish today’s psychiartrists would listen more to some of the sages of the past, like Ronald Laing, the Scottish pychiartrist, who took
the expressions or communications of the individual patient or client as representing valid descriptions of lived experience or reality rather than as symptoms of some separate or underlying disorder.
Laing did not get everything right. But his insights into mental illness arose from the fact that he had to battle with his own schizophrenia and bouts of depression and alcholism. He had to learn how to manage his own conditions first. But his work is also permeated by his impressive and unusally wide-ranging scholarship. His books are still worth reading today.
(The Wikipedia biog does not mention Laing’s schizophrenia. My source is the man himself in a conversation with me a few years before his death. )