WHAT IS CEREBRAL PALSY DIPLEGIA ANYWAY?

Trying to understand Isla's diagnosis was pretty challenging at first, especially as her neurologist didn't actually mention that diplegia is a form of cerebral palsy. So that was a shock when we wound up on Google to do a bit of research.
Mostly I think I understand things now, at least the how it happened and a vague and general idea of what Isla's development and mobility will be like ish.
Trying to explain to Dylan proved to be a lot harder than I had anticipated, we ended up having quite a deep conversation about how, if Isla's brain was a bit hurt was it not hurting? And was I sure it wasn't hurting? Which if I'm honest sent me into a mild panic because those are questions I cannot answer because the answers we've had thus far go sort of like this "maybe", "I don't know", "we can't tell", "it's possible", "blah blah blah".
So I'm trying something new, something simple and factual that hopefully captures the imagination enough for the information to sink in.
I made a comic.
I was going to call it Diplegia for Dummies but decided against that last minute so for now it's just the answer to the question: What is cerebral palsy diplegia anyway?

INVISIBLE ILLNESSES - MENTAL HEALTH

Most illnesses at some point are invisible that's how so many people get so incredibly ill before they discover they're ill and are able to seek treatment.
By definition and invisible illnesses are chronic illnesses that significantly impair daily living. If you search online the lists will include auto immune diseases, such as lupus, arthritis and chronic fatigue syndrome. The lists are long, the symptoms varied but painful and exhausting. I know, I have arthritis myself and another auto immune disease that is currently yet to be given a name because it can't commit to a part of my body quite yet (or something).

But unless you're reading a mental health related blog or article you won't find any mental health conditions listed under invisible illnesses.
As someone with both a chronic physical disability and mental health problems I can tell you, mental health problems significantly impair daily life. And not just on an emotional or psychological level, physically too. The fatigue that washes over you when depression hits in overwhelming waves and refuses to lift for weeks and weeks. The pain and tightness of constant anxiety that makes it hard to breathe all day and that doesn't even come close to the intense and terrifying pain that you can experience with an anxiety attack. Mental illness toys with you so much that physical symptoms are just part of the package.

There's a strange heaviness that comes with mental health problems that is unrelated to the problems themselves. It's like a cloud that rains down emotions that soak your clothes and make it harder to navigate your path through life. Fear, anger, anxiety, resentment, raining down and holding you back just a tiny bit, but enough for you to be constantly aware of it.
I'm scared that people will judge, that because of stereotypes or their prejudices I'll miss out on opportunities. I'm training to be a counsellor, it doesn't take much for someone's preconceived ideas about my mental health problems to get in my way.
I'm scared of that.
I'm anxious that people won't understand. That when I'm overwhelmed and can barely drag myself out of bed to look after the children that people won't understand why I look like hell and can barely speak. Or when I'm impulsive and spend money I shouldn't or take on more than is realistic, that people won't understand and I'll be judged or penalised for it.
I'm angry, so bloody angry because it's invisible and I have to explain over and over again that sometimes my behaviour is a symptom of an illness that I have "but yeah sorry you can't see it or really understand it".
And I resent that I have to prove it. People question the validity of my illness because they can't see, hold or quantify it. And I have to say "well on a scale of one to suicidal I'm about 500 so....?" And hope that they understand or will at least accept it because lord knows on a bad day I don't have the energy to justify myself as much as I have to sometimes.

And then then even when things are good, when I've had a few good days or better yet a few good weeks, the heaviness is still there raining down its anxiety. When will I have another episode? How will I cope? How will it be? Will people understand? Will it get in the way? That in itself is pretty exhausting.
I have the same anxiety with my physical disability. And the same resentment. Wow the resentment with that is huge and accidentally slips into anger if I'm having a bad day pain wise and a bad day with being a little loopy and someone asks why I'm sitting in the priority seats on the bus.
But that's for another time.

But people will understand physical illness to an extent, even if they can't see it.
Mental illness though? That's another story. And so you walk through life carrying it around with you like an oversized bag no one can see and have to apologise each time your invisible bag hits someone as you pass them on this metaphorical journey. And all the while as much as you continue to empty it out this bag fills up and weighs you down and yet no one can see it. People judge you for lagging behind in the race but they can't see the extra weight you carry. I mean, it's in your head, skulls are pretty thick. They don't have much chance with that one.
And it's not unless you're privileged enough to get to the point where your mental illness displays such blatant physical symptoms that people notice. For me, that's my weight loss.

But when people notice and it's not invisible anymore the stigma and judgement that you've feared for so long while your illness has been hidden inside your head is suddenly something you have to face. Constantly. And that can be just as awful and overwhelming as you feared.

And so you go back to trying to hide your illness, after all that time, all the resentment you've felt from it being invisible you wish it could just be so again.
And that is why mental illnesses are unique.

With my physical disability I wish people could see and understand without me having to explain. Physical disabilities are widely accepted and acknowledged.
With my mental health (despite talking about it openly online) as much as I wish people understood, so many don't. And that makes me want to hide it away whenever it becomes visible.
And yet as soon as that happens, the resentment and difficulties of living with invisible illness return.

YOU'LL BE FINE

If we as a society treated all physical illnesses with the same stigma and sense if blame and shame as mental illnesses what would the world be like.

If we told people to just stop having cancer.

That they need to get over it and walk on a broken leg without a cast.

That taking medication to cure migraines is a sign of weakness, that they should just get over them.

What if we attached such stigma to physical health problems that people hid them and allowed themselves to slip further into their illnesses?

What if we attached so much guilt to physical health problems that people doubted their ability to function in their daily lives? 

What if we blamed people for physical health problems?

I see people stigmatise mental health problems so often, see people so ashamed of their depression or self harm that they hide it and let it consume them rather than reach out for help.

After speaking out in the media I saw countless comments about how selfish I was to have children while suffering from anorexia. How I would undoubtably be harming them irrespective of the fact that I'm in the process of recovering.

Would I be accused of the same thing if I was in remission from cancer? Or had diabetes? 

If I had diabetes would I be accused of being weak for not curing myself rather than give myself insulin? 

Would I be blamed for having cancer? Then blamed again for not getting better fast enough?

It's so wrong that people with mental health problems have to constantly fight the stigma that is places on them. Constantly justify their actions, stand up for themselves and their lives, prove their abilities and fight the judgement thrown at them.

At least once a week I get a message or comment expressing the view that I am in some way harming my children by being ill, that despite perusing the road of recovery I'm not doing enough. "Don't you think they deserve more?" "Shouldn't you be doing more?" Etc.

And I always wonder whether if get these same questions if I had diabetes or cancer or a physical disability. Would u be made to feel guilty?  Would I be expected to recover at a superhuman rate?

I think probably not.