Last night, as I was dancing with depression, she said that I had no blog topic for today and that I should just take the day off and stay in bed. She said a lot of things yesterday, and they all sounded pretty good. By the end, I found myself huddled under a blanket doing worst-case-scenarios and having a literal screaming match in my head between Sane Brain and Crazy Brain. After about an hour or so, I took my sleeping pills. Sane Brain was getting quieter, and tired. Crazy Brain was raring to go, and needed medical intervention.
When I woke up, I felt a lot better. I sat down to write, and briefly considered ignoring last night’s darkness, until I realized that it is Mental Health Month. Two years ago, I wrote a series of blogs about breaking the stigma of mental health, using one of my diagnoses as a jumping off point each week. I received some lovely feedback from family and friends. I hope I broke a couple of stigmas for someone. One can dream.
Anyway, it’s two years later and I write about my mental health all the time, and not just in my blog anymore. I have had three articles published at Mental Health Crisis Angels, which is a peer support group, mental health blog, and all-around stigma bashing organization. The first was about my struggles with Severe Anxiety Disorder. The second, about tips to deal with anxieties, big and small. And the last was about Trichotillomania, which I developed when I was eleven.
And then there is my chapbook. The whole thing is about chronic illness and, by default, depression. Now, I have had symptoms of depression since I was around 8 years old, but it didn’t go full-blown until I was sixteen and diagnosed with diabetes, which is where my chapbook begins. Some of the poems in it are new. Some I wrote 15-20 years ago. All of them are about battling the depression caused by illness and trauma.
Then my blog, where I write about mental health on a personal basis. When I was first diagnosed, I was scared to share my experiences because of what other people would think of me. I’ve had people call me a liar. I’ve had people tell me I’m making up symptoms. I’ve lost friends because I’m “too complicated.” I’ve had to regain the trust of people I love. I’ve worried about employers not wanting to hire me. It seemed for a while that telling people about my illness made me lose them, so why share?
But then one day, about fifteen years ago, I posted something about Trichotillomania. Just a logo or something from the TLC Learning Center, which was the only resource for TTM at the time. A friend emailed me: she saw the logo, and decided to take the leap and tell me that she, too, had Trich. I had known her for years, and had no clue. She asked me not to tell anyone, as we had many mutual friends, and she was embarrassed. I understood. I, too, had been so ashamed of it, once. However, it was that day that I realized we should not be ashamed-how much easier would my life have been, had I been able to confide in her? How much less lonely would she have felt, knowing there was not only another person who was going though this, but someone who was already a friend? Youth could have been a little different for us. A little less lonely, at least.
Anyway, from that point on, I started sharing my experiences, opinions be damned. I didn’t want to feel how I felt anymore. I didn’t want to feel how my friend felt. I wanted to stand up: for her, for myself, for everyone that was too scared.
The stigma of mental health is, thankfully, changing rapidly. Especially in our current climate, when people are getting whacked in the face with anxiety and depression on levels they have never known. I still find solace in my professional-cynic status; I was anxious and depressed way before this whole shebang. I will be when it’s over. Right now, I’m kind of doing well because as I’ve said before, to me, the world has always been on fire.
So happy Mental Health Month to all of you. It isn’t just those of us who live with mental illness that need to be celebrated and lifted up right now. It’s all of us, because we are having a worldwide mental health crisis, whether we acknowledge it or not.
Please please please, stay safe, stay sane, stay healthy.