Read It or Don’t
As evidenced by my weekly ramblings on this very website, I do not need a reason to talk about myself. I rather enjoy doing it and I will be the first to admit that I also like attention during the rare moments that I’m not in introvert mode. Just so I don’t sound like a complete asshole I will say that I also love to hear other people tell (interesting) stories about themselves, so it’s not all about me 24/7, but I enjoy my moments in the spotlight. I’m a theater kid, what do you want from me?
May is Mental Health Awareness Month. While I already speak openly about my mental health, I like to use May as a time to focus on sharing my story so that others may benefit and learn from my experience. It is important that it is understood I do not do this for likes, pity, or to be congratulated for my bravery. None of that matters and to be honest I never know what to say when people tell me I’m brave, but that’s my own insecurities speaking. While I’m certainly not above doing something funny or out of the box to get attention, that’s not what this is.
Everything with my mental health came to a head three years ago when I was hospitalized because I could not stop having panic attacks. I spent six days inpatient and then was discharged to a month-long Intensive Outpatient Program (known as IOP to those cool enough to attend). During this time I went on Family Medical Leave and did not work for two months. This mental health “vacation”, as some might be tempted to call it, was hard work and scary and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. But all that being said, I am SO GLAD that it happened.
I am very lucky to have the most supportive family and friends. No one made me feel stupid or embarrassed. When I mention the experience or joke about “when I was locked up”, they don’t try to change the subject or tell me to move on and put it behind me. They understand that it is behind me, but I’ve only gotten where I am because I went through all of it. They understand that I feel passionately about mental health care because I depend on it, but most importantly because it is very hard to access good care and some people never try because of the stigma surrounding the field.
Not everyone is as lucky as I am. I’ve met many people who were told by a friend, family member, significant other, or even a doctor that they “aren’t that bad yet” to stoop to mental health care. “You don’t need that kind of help, just stop worrying.” “Wouldn’t you rather spend the money on something fun to take your mind off it, rather than therapy?” These people are mouth breathers and they do not understand.
There was one occasion when a particularly virulent mouth breather (who knew my story and how vocal I am about it) was speaking to a group of people which included me and said the following:
“You know, some people think that by sharing their pain and struggles with others that they are helping, but really they are causing more problems. If you share your struggles the team feels obligated to care for you and you actually slow things down. Better to just power through.”
Was that directed at me? Probably not intentionally, but it certainly felt like it. What a ignorant and moronic thing to say. If every word that came out of my mouth was about mental health then, yes, that would not be productive in my life. But I can and do speak about other things. I don’t walk up to strangers and introduce myself by saying, “Hello, my name is Megan, let me tell you about my mental breakdown.” And by sharing my story I’m not asking other people to take care of me; I’m telling them that I’m going to do what I need to in order to take care of myself, and I’m encouraging them to do the same.
The main reason that I write, talk, and joke about my experience is because I had no idea how poorly I was doing until it was too late. By the time I knew I needed help there wasn’t anything but a major drastic measure that was going to pull me back. Thank God that option was available to me, that I didn’t lose my job because of it, and I didn’t go into major debt over it. I was beyond lucky, more so than most people who find themselves in the same situation.
And so I talk, loudly and often, so maybe someone will hear themselves in my story and seek earlier intervention. I share so that people become more comfortable with the subject matter. I write because it should not be as challenging or as expensive as it is to get quality mental health care.
Some people won’t like it, and that is fine. It might make them uncomfortable or they don’t understand and just label me as crazy. That’s fine too, I’d label them ignorant and selfish buttholes, so we’re even on that score. Some people will simply want me to be quiet because it rocks their boat to hear what I have to share. To them I say: if you feel that way, then this blog isn’t for you. Read it or don’t…no skin off my nose.
To everyone else: I hope that in some way the posts this month are helpful to you or to someone you know. And if you have something to share, whether related to mental health or not, I encourage you to tell your tale. Speak the truth. Rock the damn boat.
