| THE OBSERVATORY
By Amy Meisner-Threet, MSW
Most people who know me know I have MS. Few know about my other illness, the one I’ve had for most of my adult life: bi-polar disorder.
To be diagnosed with a physical and a mental illness, both of which have treatments but no cure, is actually quite common, but that doesn’t make either easier to bear. There is a stigma attached to each of these illnesses, due to misconceptions about them. It has taken me some time to be comfortable talking about this “double whammy” myself.
I was pretty high-functioning growing up. I studied dance from the age of 4, attended the High School of Performing Arts (now part of LaGuardia High School) in New York City, performed professionally starting at age 17. I was an honor roll student throughout my education, eventually earning my undergraduate degree in dance. I was always friendly and popular, had boyfriends starting at the age of 16, and met my future husband at 22.
It was around that time, 1982, that I had my “nervous breakdown.” I was going to college, working with a dance company, waitressing the graveyard shift and trying to have a relationship—a lot for anyone, but some manage to do all that without consequence. For me, it triggered a dormant seed of mental illness in my genetic inheritance. My sister, Janice, a psychiatric nurse 10 years my senior, was the first to have suspicions regarding my mental illness. She, my mom (also a nurse), and other family members, literally kidnapped me and had me hospitalized.
In those days, my condition was called “manic depression.” The DSM IV (Diagnostic Statistical Medical Journal) defines it as “an affective disorder”. Having received excellent care, and the support of various friends and relatives who visited me during my month long stay in the hospital, my condition was stabilized.
Sadly, my boyfriend at the time felt he needed to stay away. It broke my heart. When I went back to college, I choreographed and performed a dance expressing my sorrow for a drama therapy class..
Luckily, I had wonderful clinicians, psychiatrists, nurses and social workers who encouraged me to stabilize my psychiatric symptoms through medication and therapy. Unfortunately one of the side effects of these meds—weight gain—is a dancer’s nightmare! I will never forget a social worker advising me to avoid getting involved in the performing arts again, as that was my trigger. The voice in the back of my head heard what she was saying, knew that for me this was not the only alternative, (for others it proves to be an excellent solution to their presenting problems and long-term care), felt she was “wrong,” and that I needed to do what I had a passion for.
For me, despite the weight struggle, I entered a long period of stability in my 20s and 30s. I married, finished undergraduate school, made a living as a social worker while also pursuing work in dance and the theater. I rarely told people about my illness.
It was when I went back to school for a masters in social work that I began to have trouble walking and to experience urinary incontinence and extreme fatigue. Thinking there was a connection to back and knee problems I had as a dancer, I went to a chiropractor, who astutely sent me for an EKG and an MRI.
The results changed my life—again—forever.
With my mother and sister by my side, I adopted a regimen of physical rehab and medication that enabled me to stay employed for three years. But after another major exacerbation, it was clear I had chronic progressive primary MS. I found ways to work from home. I go to the gym, do Pilates and try to adhere to a healthy diet. At 50, with somewhat limited mobility, I have managed to get back to a nice weight and reasonable energy level.
After more than a decade of living with these two illnesses, the big difference I’ve found between them is that I can’t hide my physical disability. My MS has evoked a certain amount of sympathy, sometimes an excess of it, whether I want it or not.
In my experience, people tend to underestimate the abilities of people who have MS or bipolar disorder—let alone both! But it’s how you feel about yourself that really matters. Life may not be what you envisioned, but you can still live fully, actively and well. And that, as they say, is the best revenge.
Amy Meisner-Threet, MSW, is an actor, dancer, activist and freelance writer who lives in Queens, New York.
