“Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of, but stigma and bias shame us all.” – Bill Clinton
I am a woman in her forties and most people in my life do not know that I suffer from mental illness. For as long as I can remember, I have battled depression and anxiety, sometimes simultaneously, and for most of my life I kept it locked inside. Until now.
I have always been afraid of being perceived as less than (less than competent, less than perfect, less than capable, less than human). These fears are justified, as we all know the stigma of mental illness in our society. When you think of the term “mental illness”, you may envision an image of a person in a strait jacket, perhaps talking to himself, perhaps staring off into the distance not quite seeing anything. Or you may picture a knife wielding person, yelling into oblivion, attacking strangers on a bus. Or maybe you think of a Hannibal Lecter-type person who lures unsuspecting victims into his lair so he can “have them for dinner”. Sure, these are examples of mental illness, but they don’t define what mental illness truly is.
What you might not picture is a celebrity like Kate Spade, Chris Cornell, or Anthony Bourdain. You may not think that famous people who “have it all” would be battling mental illness every day, and that they might someday lose that battle and their lives. Because the fact of the matter is, it doesn’t matter how much money a person has, how successful they are in their career, how beautiful they are, or that they have a spouse and children who depend on them; mental illness does not discriminate, and it can kill you.
About three years ago I finally decided to see a therapist. At this point in time I had spent most of my life struggling with depression and anxiety, mostly keeping it to myself to “save face”. If things felt too overwhelming, I would hide away in my house, cancelling plans with friends, refusing to answer phone calls, paralyzed by my feelings. I got pretty good at hiding my true self for so long that I felt convinced I had it under control. And then the anxiety escalated, and I was starting to have difficulty driving a car because every time I eased my vehicle onto a highway, I had a panic attack. At first I did what I always do and I pretended like everything was fine, all the while I started avoiding driving long distances or taking roads with faster speed limits, making excuses to friends and family whenever I was supposed to drive somewhere to visit them. When I finally got to the point where I actually considered cancelling a summer vacation I had planned with my children because of these panic attacks, I recognized I had a problem.
I had avoided seeking help from a therapist my whole life because I told myself that I wasn’t the type of person who needed therapy. Therapy was for people who were really traumatized, who needed medication, or who were mentally ill – that was not me. I was just a girl who worried a lot or got sad sometimes, surely I could handle this myself. This was the biggest lie I ever told myself. First of all, therapy is good for anyone who needs someone to talk to, even if they are not mentally ill. There is no “type of person” who seeks therapy, if you feel you need it, then you need it. Secondly, for a long time I refused to acknowledge that my issues were far more serious than just worrying a lot or feeling sad; I was mentally ill, and it was literally preventing me from living my best life. But I downplayed it because I was afraid of what it might mean if I admitted my true self.
The stigma attached to mental illness is what prevents thousands of people from getting the help they need so they can survive their illness. So many people suffer in silence out of fear of being perceived as less than.
Once I started seeing a therapist I was finally able to admit out loud that I have depression and anxiety. Making an appointment with a therapist was my first step in not only acknowledging my true self, but also stripping away the stigma I personally had attached to mental illness for so many years. And later, when my doctor prescribed me anti-anxiety medication to help supplement my talk therapy sessions, I was hesitant at first to take it. But then I realized that I needed to break down the stigma I had also attached to taking medication for mental illness. I was not less than, I was still me, and I needed medication to help me fight my battle.
Most people wouldn’t think twice about taking a Tylenol to help alleviate the pain of a headache, nor would they refuse to go for chemotherapy treatments to fight cancer cells in their body. Yet when people are battling mental illness, they often talk themselves out of getting help. We as a society need to remove the stigma of mental illness, too many people die when they lose their battle. If we supported mentally ill patients the same way we support cancer patients, perhaps we could save more lives.
Removing the stigma of mental illness won’t happen overnight. The best way to start is with ourselves, each and every day. I am continuing to take steps to remove the bias in my own life: if I am having a difficult day and am feeling that familiar overwhelming sadness that often consumes me, instead of smiling through it, I tell my family. If my anxiety is interfering with my ability to attend an event, I let my friends know. I do my best to share what I am feeling and if I have trouble articulating those feelings, I share that too. I won't lie, it’s scary to show my true self, but it’s also a relief. In some ways it feels as though my mental illness has less power over me when I talk about it.
As terrifying as this is, writing and sharing my story is another big personal step I have taken in normalizing mental illness, this is me telling the world that I struggle every day with depression and anxiety, and I am not ashamed to admit it anymore.
Mental illness does not have a certain look and it does not affect a certain type of person. I am a mom, a friend, a daughter, a sister, and by most accounts a "normal" person who has a great life with a magnificent family. I have everything I need and I want for nothing. But yet I still fight this battle.
If you also suffer from mental illness, tell a friend or a family member, share your struggle with them. Try to allow your true self to shine, even on your darkest days. Stop worrying about being viewed as less than or incompetent and let yourself be vulnerable. And if you don’t have mental illness, make an effort to be open-minded to your friends and family who do: tell them you care and that you are not ashamed of them, demonstrate to them that their disease does not change how much you love them, and create a safe space for them to admit their truth. You know those quotes that are floating around on social media that say, “Check on your strong friend”? They are so right on; some of the strongest people out there are fighting a battle inside their minds every single day. And those strong people might be hesitant to come to you when they feel like they are losing that battle. I’m not saying you are responsible for saving every person with mental illness, but just remember they are out there, they are likely your closest friends, and they need your support.
This is how we can remove the stigma of mental illness, one person at a time.
