So much to write about so much to share but thought this was fitting as it is a typical conversation that seems to come up. I have a circle of friends that we check in on each other, hold space when needed, offer perspective, or just stay on a call while they let their emotions flow.
Lately, a topic that has come up over and over again is the label that comes along with mental health — depression, manic, suicidal, bipolar, emotional, and so on. The stigma of those words is crippling to all of us. The shame and embarrassment of having to tell people that I am “mental health diagnosis” are overwhelming.
I remember going to a Dr. and saying that something does not feel right in my head that, I had no motivation, no drive to do anything that I thought I was depressed. He looked at me and said no, your just fat and overweight and start exercising, and you will be fine. I remember leaving that Dr. office devastated, sitting in my car, thinking what the fuck am I supposed to do now. So I just lived with it, live with the constant battle the lived in-between my ears.
I as well did not want that title; I was told it was just because I was fat and dealt with it. I was remembering back to school days when I struggled with my dyslexia and auditory memory deficit and being ridiculed because I could not spell. I can pronounce the word, but the way my brain processes it does not make sense to other people on how I would spell it. I was teased, called names, told I was using it as a crutch. That I was just stupid and did not have a learning disability, I was just dumb. I still remember my high school guidance counselor telling me that I would not equal to anything in life and may as well give up.
Well into my adulthood, I could not live with the way my brain was firing. I knew it was time to figure it out. I made and canceled several Dr. appointments and finally went in and had a conversation about what was going on. I expressed my concerns about going on an antidepressant that I was scared of the weight gain, the lack of sexual desires, and so on. We found one that did not have those side effects, and I started the path not to overcome but to be able to deal with my mental illness. I can remember to this day the conversation I had with Elise that she was to tell no one, that no one could ever know that I was on this medication as if anyone found out I would be devastated. Secondly, if my boss at that time found out, I would probably lose my job.
I now work for a company that supports my struggles that are part of my plan; they embrace my hard days and stand next to me, or below me holding me up. They have empowered me to come out and say those words that people are so scared to say. I am the face of mental health; I am a suicide survivor.
My advice to you if you are struggling with the title or what the title may do, find a trusted friend and tell them in confidence, find a group of like-minded people that you believe, and that you can be vulnerable with and share your story. I know to a lot of people letting your employer know something that is not even on the table. To me, it was one of the most powerful things I have ever done in my life. To see two of my closes friends on the other end of a video call, apologize that they did not create a place that I felt comfortable enough to share was them failing as a company and as my friends.
It has given me the power to be open when I need help or be able to call one of my best friends in the states and chat, and just be honest and say I am struggling today. Never a judgment, never a question of shouldn’t you be doing X, we just sit and chat, and have an open and honest dialogue.
Remember, mental illness does not define who you are. I still say that I have learned that some of my best personality traits are a direct result of my struggles. I challenge you to open up to someone and let them know. Anyone that is reading this, I will always hold space for you. I will always be here to support in any way I can.
Until we are willing to talk openly about mental health and men’s mental health, people will not feel comfortable coming forward and asking for help. I know for me it took a better part of 40 years.
Lastly, the world today with everything that is going on is a mental rollercoaster for me. The internal fight of my brain and thoughts are emotional and hard to deal with sometimes. The fear of what the new normal may look like, or what the future holds is terrifying. Reach out to someone you have not heard from in a while and ask the questions, “how are you.” I am lucky I have a group of people that look out for each other and ask that exact question.
So how are you?
