Breaking Down the Stigma Around Mental Health With Compssion
I've had a lot of thoughts around Bell, Let's Talk Day this year, and I'm just sitting down now at 3AM, as I grapple with a bout of insomnia, to put some of them to paper (quite late as with everything these days).
Fleishman Isn't the Only One in Trouble
I recently binged the show Fleishman in Trouble (spoilers in this first paragraph) and it was a great example of why people often keep their mouths shut about their struggles, mental health-related and otherwise.
In the show, a completely competent and successful woman with unresolved life trauma (a simplistic description) has a total mental breakdown. The lack of understanding exhibited by her partner, her colleagues, and her friends is difficult to watch. She is revered until she loses it completely, and then her worth is diminished to virtual dismissal. And yet the same characteristics and mental structures that lead to her being so successful, fun, and full of energy, were the things that contributed to her eventual breakdown.
One situation we accept and reward, the other we find reprehensible and shameful.
I'm not immune to either side of this equation. I've caught myself saying things like "so and so is sick again" or showing exasperation when someone isn't living up to their normal level of productivity. And yet, if it were me that was off sick or having a bad week, I would hope others had the capacity to look at my situation with grace and compassion.
There are No Surprises
I'm still baffled that people were so surprised to see someone like Twitch take his own life last year. He appeared to be in control, happy, together. A persona likely crafted through expectations and an understanding that sharing the actual inner workings of one's mind and issues is not something people have the time or compassion for. He even shared his struggles in older interviews, but we continue to look at carefully curated clips of dancing or joy in one's life, and assume that there isn't another side that isn't shown.
A person can hold both extreme joy and extreme sorrow in one day, in one body, in one mind. And on certain days one extreme can win out over the other.
People are shocked and devasted when someone gets to the point of suicide, but if someone shares their distress before it gets to that point, you hear things like "I have a lot of shit going on as well" or they quickly move on to the next subject. It's no different from how we glorify the person who works without a break till the wee hours of the morning, and then say they should have slowed down only after they die from a stress-induced heart attack.
The narrative needs to change, and it starts with each of us individually. In how we talk about people. The silent reactions our faces make when we are questioning someone else's integrity or struggles. In the grace and understanding that we afford others in our own minds.
The Magical Art of Choosing How You Think
I once worked for a person who was incredibly strict with their staff, and basically saw everyone as trying to "game the system." They used language like this all of the time. I was in this person's circle of confidence, so I could hear how they referred to other people and it changed the way I saw everyone. I no longer assumed anyone's good intent. I walked around with a filter of suspicion layered on every interaction.
Years later I met this person for lunch, and I might as well have been talking to an entirely different person. They had suffered some major life trauma in the intervening years, and their new philosophy was that everyone was doing the best they could. They now chose to "assume the good intent" of everyone they interacted with.
Some people would say that this allows those that are "gaming the system" to get through, but she responded to say that she would rather believe the 90% of people who were honest with her, than paint everyone with the same brush and punish the 90% for the sins of the 10%.
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