At the risk of receiving the ire of Lemmy, there are some notable exceptions to this. I can’t speak for all disabilities, but for bipolar disorder, there are a LOT of non-pharmecutical things I have done that makes my life so much better. For me, the #1 best thing I can do is exercise. It sucks because that is the most intensive thing to do, but once I started running a 5k a day, and then cooled down a bit due to my poor knees (now I got into rock climbing), I have been listed as “Bipolar-in remission” by my doctors. This isn’t just anecdotal, there is plenty of research on this subject that shows the link between exercise and mental health.

I would also consider “taking my meds” as under the “healthy living my way out of disability”, but just taking them isn’t enough.

I of course will extend the caveat that I am physically abled to do these exercises, and there are bipolar folks who are unable to make this happen, but if I’m offered a tool to help make my life better, I’m going to use it.

Also to extend deeper into the ire, when people with bipolar disorder choose not to take their diagnosis seriously and refuse treatment, not only can it be harmful to those around them, but also to those of us who are trying to shirk the stereotype of “unstable and dangerous manic depressive”. When Kanye was manic and went off on his neo Nazi rants, many people said “well, he’s bipolar so it’s not really his fault”. He wasn’t taking meds, and he was ignoring his health leading into it.

Personally, that exoneration is upsetting because so many of us are putting in the effort to live healthy stable lives and accept responsibility for our actions, even when manic. Being manic is an explanation for terrible behavior, but it isn’t an excuse. When we believe that bipolar people can’t help but be awful, people will hear about my diagnosis and believe that I will be awful and I can’t help it. It’s dehumanizing.

One more note on this post- it seems to lend itself to hopelessness. Of course it was talking about chronic illness as a whole, and of course chronic illness isn’t a monolith, but having the thought of “there’s nothing that can be done” isn’t something I’m willing to accept, at least for myself. To quote Emily Dickinson, Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and it sings the tune without the words and never stops at all. Every day I hope that tomorrow will be better than today, but I know hope is merely enough. I need to do the work. Sometimes I don’t hear the tune, but it’s always there waiting should I lend an ear.

I think what the post does very well in it’s most core point is address the stigma that abled people have towards the disabled. I’d say the imperative word in the post is “just”. You can’t just healthy living your way out of chronic illness. For some, healthy living has a huge benefit, but for me to get to where I am wasn’t easy, in fact it asks for effort every day, and I know to be in my current mental space takes a lot more effort than it does for others.

From BoJack Horseman: it gets easier. Every day it gets a little easier, But you gotta to do it every day, that’s the hard part. But it does get easier.

TL;DR I live with Bipolar disorder and I have found healthy living has saved my life, and while many can’t do what I do, letting people off the hook for not taking care of themselves with a dangerous illness creates the stereotypes that negatively impacts people who manage their bipolar disorder.

Edit just to cover my basses, when talking about folks that choose not to address their bipolar disorder/ not exclusing manic episodes, I’m addressing those with a diagnosis and have the means to access medications and help and then actively choose not to. I’m more willing to cut some slack for someone who had a bad prescription and are still finding what works for them, or folks who don’t have access to medical care (which is an abomination that medicine isn’t universally accessible).