Last Sunday, my bookshelf broke, and I ran out of my apartment and sobbed in the stairwell of a parking structure for half an hour. It’s not a joke. It’s not hyperbole. It was me at my breaking point. This is going to be my last article for the Vanguard. My editor let me decide what I should write—science? legislation? women’s rights?—and I eventually decided that my last submission should be more than that.
A difficult thing to accept
Last Sunday, my bookshelf broke, and I ran out of my apartment and sobbed in the stairwell of a parking structure for half an hour.
It’s not a joke. It’s not hyperbole. It was me at my breaking point.
This is going to be my last article for the Vanguard. My editor let me decide what I should write—science? legislation? women’s rights?—and I eventually decided that my last submission should be more than that.
So I give you this, a cautionary tale about the stigmas of mental health.
I’ve never been very good at managing my mental and emotional health. I am a very logical person. I proceed with the most efficient plan regardless of factors like stress and grief. So, after two deaths in my family and a rash of illnesses and horrific diagnoses among those closest to me, I tried to return to my daily life without any time to cope, grieve or process the things that had happened.
Within a number of weeks, my journal—which I’d started keeping as a New Year’s resolution—became darker and darker. Looking at it now, there are some alarming excerpts:
A letter to my younger self ends with “I’m sorry I failed you, little Jenna. I never wanted to be such a fuck-up.”
An entry about other resolutions dissolves into “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
One page just reads, “If you ignore the crushing wave of inadequacy, maybe it will go away.”
Another page says, “I want to run away and start over, but it won’t undo the last eight years.”
And it culminates with a one-line entry on March 24: “I think I’m depressed.”
That was the day I realized I couldn’t keep ignoring my negative thoughts and emotions in the hope that they’d go away. And I couldn’t move forward in my life, especially with the trials my friends and family were facing, if I didn’t address them.
Even writing this down for publication scares me a little. I worry that someone will see this someday and decide I’m not worth employing or exploring a relationship with.
I don’t want to be seen as mentally ill.
The thing is, that’s why I let it get so bad. I struggled so much with the stigma associated with those words. “Mental illness” is something suffered by those people. The unstable ones. The people on the bus or train who shout about the world ending. The ones who are unsafe to be around. The other people. Not me.
Mental illness doesn’t happen to normal people, right? And I wanted desperately to be normal. But that stigma causes so much more harm than any other I’ve seen. There should be no shame in saying, “I think I’m unwell, and I need help to get better.”
In fact, if we treated physical illness like we do mental illness, it’d be laughably absurd. “I think she’s faking her amputation for attention,” or “You don’t really have diabetes. Everyone has low energy sometimes. You don’t need to medicate that.”
I don’t know if I am clinically depressed. I’ve yet to see a doctor or a counselor (though I have made appointments to do so). But I do know that I’m not well. I haven’t been for some time.
Admitting this to my family and friends has been difficult. A few people have reacted poorly, and I have distanced myself from them for my own sake. In just a few days, I’ve been called some truly nasty things.
But most of the people I have told have encouraged me to get help. And I will.
Whether through lifestyle changes, therapy or medication, I will get better. I have to remind myself that there’s no shame in taking the time to become well again.
What I want readers to take away from this is that it’s OK to get help. It’s OK to ask for it.
There is nothing wrong with admitting that you may be unwell. And if you’re unwell, it’s only rational to get treatment.
Scary as it is, I’m going to face it. I’ve seen people I love deny that they were unwell until they couldn’t live with it anymore. I’ve seen people die because of this stigma. I will not be one of them.
So long, readers. Next time I’m published, I hope it’s as a healthy, well-adjusted person.
A brave and true article. Thank you for posting.
Wow, what a gift of candor and authenticity. Thank you with a speedy Get Well!
Fantastic piece. Having dealt with depression earlier in my life for a couple of years, I can’t help but majorly empathize with you. Hang in there, Janieve.
Moving past the stigma of “it’s all in your head” is really difficult, especially when you have loved ones being stupid about it. Good for you.
So brave and well said. I know firsthand what dealing with this illness is like and there is definitely hope. I pray you end up getting the care you deserve and experience quick relief from the crushing symptoms soon.
Wonderfully insightful and brave. Well done.
Having battled depression earlier in my life, I can relate to the misery you are experiencing. And I assure you life can be so much better. The first (and most difficult) step is finding the insight and courage to acknowledge that you are not well and that you need help – and you have already done that. I wish you all the best on your journey to improved well-being. Thank you for your courage in sharing your story, I hope it will inspire others to follow your lead.
Thank you so much for writing this piece and your honesty in sharing such personal experiences. So important
Thank you for reminding me I am not alone in navigating the difficulty in life and that sometimes, we cannot shoulder it all alone.
Thank you so much for your bravery, as you have given me courage to face my own mental instability. I am educated with an MSW and know about stigmas, cognitively. But when I tried to integrate that knowledge emotionally, I only felt shame – I am exactly where you are right now and I have to make the choice to be honest about my emotional health right now and lose my job as a therapist so I can address in a healthy way my mental issues – or ignore it and live in shame, live in a lie consumed by depression and anxiety in secrecy. Unethical – at the very least. I have sought help from therapists, specialists and close friends all who have encouraged me to do what you have done. I have the same fears that I will become unemployable; that I will be punished by society for my current illness. I could not find the courage, even after all of the specialists, therapists etc.. who I have seen to take that courageous, ethical and humane step aside and get help until I came across your article. I have now taken that step too. Thank you immensely. I have the utmost respect for you. You will get better and learn how to move through the depression in healthy, healing ways. As will I – you changed my life today – if only I could return the favor.
Good for you – address the issue and get help. I too have been there and now, seven years later, am still working on myself. I expect to see you published at some time in the future with a real dedication to the real you! Thank you for sharing!