In the genre of “things you don’t talk about at dinner parties,” mental health issues rank higher than politics, sex, and religion.
But why? Why do we shy away from discussing the difficult things? Particularly when the difficult things, the things that make us the most real, are usually also the things that make us the most similar. There’s commonality in crisis. The rawness of our struggles can bring us together.
It only takes one person to start a conversation, even a tough one, and I’m starting this one right now. The life cycle of my mental health has been something like this:
Turn 15. Attend your grandmother’s funeral. Watch your mother spiral into depression over the ensuing months. Feel helpless. Ask questions. Get answers of silence. Depression isn’t something to be discussed. Live your mother’s day to day struggle. One medication to another. And then another. And another. Notice that your family is falling apart.
Graduate high school. Leave for college. Get sucked into the whirlwind of pressure and intoxicating freedom. Listen in shock to the news that 3 students committed suicide during the first week of classes. Question how anyone could take their own life. Feel sorry for them, people you don’t even know, but feel superior at the same time. Pat yourself on the back for having your shit together.
Spend the next 6 months living it up. Love that you’re having the time of your life. Feel a sudden shift in mood. Start to notice that your days are either sparklingly perfect or horrifyingly sad. Analyze external factors. Tell yourself that it’s college, that everyone must feel like this. Chalk it up to the combination of too much drinking and too little sleep. Too much stress and too little of everything else. Ignore the warning signs for as long as possible.
Start Junior year feeling pretty pleased with yourself, proud that you’re going to graduate a year early from such a great school. Continue to ignore the mood swings. Get rocked by a horrible breakup. Fall apart. Put yourself back together. Berate yourself for having so many bad days, even after you’ve gotten over the heartache.
Make an appointment at the NYU Wellness Center. Start using your 12 free counseling sessions, the ones the school started offering after the string of suicides. Sit across the room from a psychologist named Kathy. Feel supremely awkward. Keep telling yourself, over and over, that you’re fine and that you should be able to handle your feelings on your own. Lie to everyone about being in therapy.
Use up all 12 sessions. Refuse to pay for more. Wonder angrily why your insurance doesn’t cover mental health treatment. Feel embarrassed about needing help in the first place. Think that if your insurance company doesn’t consider this a real problem, you should be able to just sack up and get over it already. Cry. Hide in your room. Cry. Skip class. Lie to everyone about what you’re going through. Sleep as much as possible. Wonder if the world and the people in your life would be better off without you. Start to understand suicide. Drink a lot of vodka.
Switch from vodka to tequila. Go through a simultaneously coincidental shift in mood. Start to pick up momentum. Feel euphoric all the time. Sleep less, talk more. Think less, do more. Live impulsively. Love how raw and powerful your sexuality is. Get off on drawing people into your dramatic tornado. Drink more tequila. Hook up with people you shouldn’t hook up with. Spend money you shouldn’t spend. Do one thing after another that you aren’t coherent enough to know you’ll later regret.
Go from euphoric to irritable. Lose your shit over the smallest things. Get a referral to the National Institute for the Psychotherapies. Start seeing a doctor you call Hillary, due to her physical resemblance to Hillary Clinton. Talk to her. Talk more. And more. Get diagnosed with Cyclothymia, a mild form of bipolar disorder. Make an appointment to see a psychiatrist. Talk to her too. Fill your first prescription for Lamictal, a mood stabilizer. Hate the way it makes you feel. Hate hearing that even though you hate the way it makes you feel, it’s necessary. Fight your doctors. Fight everyone.
Take the medication for about 6 months. Feel dull the entire time. Continue to see both doctors. Talk. Feel dull. Repeat.
Stop taking your medication. Feel your impulsiveness spiral out of control. Watch as New Year’s Eve 2007 quickly turns into one of the worst nights of your life. Cry for days. Decide you can’t handle living in NYC anymore. Pack everything you own and move to California to get away from it all.
Spend hours laying in the middle of the floor, crying, when you realize the truth to that old saying that “no matter where you go, there you are.” Feel the mood swings picking up speed and aggression. Spend days in bed. Days where it seems like nothing will ever be okay again. Feel better. Tell yourself you’re going to be fine. Look in the mirror and reassure yourself that you have it all under control.
Go through a summer of extreme emotion. Experience real insomnia for the first time. Spend your days as high as a kite on sleeplessness and caffeine. Spend your nights pacing around in the dark, making list after mental list of everything you need to do to be as incredible as possible.
Spend the fall and winter completely breaking down. Make an appointment to see a new therapist in December of 2008. Pick her randomly off a list of people covered by your current insurance. Quickly realize that nothing is random because this woman saves your life. She asks the questions that need to be asked, and when you don’t answer right away, when you’re scared of yourself, she asks again. And she waits. She’s kind and nonjudgmental. She doesn’t put you back on medication, but tells you not to rule it out as a future course of treatment, if necessary.
You spend 8 months under her care. Halfway through that time, you’re forced to switch to a different kind of insurance that doesn’t cover mental health treatment. She sees you anyway, at an incredibly reduced rate. You’re more grateful than you have ever been.
She helps you in a way you never thought possible. She’s there for you when you lose a close friend to suicide. She works with you as you make the decision to go the nomad route, to travel and pursue your best life. She tells you to be careful, warns that a lack of routine could easily shift you back into crushing mood swings. She makes you promise to call if you need anything. You promise. You hug her goodbye.
You pack up and leave California, set out on the path of a professional nomad. You feel pretty damn stable. Then, late one October night during your travels, you learn that a former camper of yours has committed suicide, that she suffered from deep depression and that she hung herself the night before. You hear this, you understand it, and yet you can’t believe it. You cry throughout the entire night and wonder what could have been done differently to change the outcome.
You realize, finally, that mental illness isn’t something to be ashamed of. You admit that you have a mood disorder, and that luckily, because of the right help, you have it under control. You decide that you’re not going to be quiet about it anymore, that you aren’t going to pretend you have all your little ducks in a row, because you don’t. Because your honesty and openness, no matter how difficult, might inspire more honesty and more openness and that from it, we can work together to build a world where we’re not afraid to reach out for help, to be there for each other, to look each other in the eye and say, “I’m not okay,” and, hopefully, to save each others’ lives.
{ 2 trackbacks }
{ 92 comments… read them below or add one }
I submit that all of us who struggle with mental health issues write our own stories like you just did. Beautifully, I might add. I respect and admire so much those who can not only discuss it but who OWN IT. Because, guess what. It's not as if we choose to be this way.
(Also, if you're comfy with it, would love if you submitted to IndieInk.)
You brave, beautiful woman you. You're right- we don't need to pretend we are anything we're not. It's within our power to live authentically- with all the emotions, swings, highs and lows. To really love and listen and be present. To be peace with just BEING.
Powerful connections are made on openness, vulnerability, the ability to hold compassion for ourselves and each other.
You're opening up an amazing level of honesty, Nicole. Stick to it warrior. I've got your back.
Smooch. Molly
Wow, that's quite a story. A kid I know recently committed suicide after he got caught shoplifting. Apparently he was afraid of going to trial and spending his young adult life in prison, so he just took that as an out. It's so difficult to deal with, and I think even though physical ailments are pretty taboo, mental disorders are considered even more so because nobody wants to be offensive. Still, please take the time to talk to someone if you notice a change in their behavior. It can make a huge difference in someone's life just that there's a person who's willing to spend their time doing so.
Thanks for sharing this! I wrote about mine here (http://ewalker9.wordpress.com/2009/10/14/not-craz... Mental health is nothing to be ashamed of, if we were all so able to talk about this stuff then I think less people would go untreated.
<tears>
Great post. As someone who dated a person with severe manic depression, I saw first hand the biggest part of his battle was public acceptance of his condition. He referred to it often as "not a real disease," and as such, didn't take the medication or go to the therapy that he truly needed. Mental illness is as real as any physical illness (it can actually cause physical illness for crying out loud) and I respect your being honest about your own struggles. Hopefully, more people WILL talk about mental health and it will stop being a taboo subject in society.
So sorry for you loss. Sending my love and support. XOXO
I wrote about my depression on my blog, because it is an illness. Just as someone would blog about any other illness, I blogged about mine. I did it so I wouldn't be ashamed of it, I did it because I know I'm not alone. I'm glad you did it too.
amazing post on a very important "taboo" topic. Hugs and support!
As you may or may not know, I'm all for talking about taboo topics. Because if we can't talk about things, we can't learn. And if we can't learn, how will we ever grow? So bravo to you for coming clean and giving it a voice!
Hate to plug my own blog, but these 2 recent posts of mine may be helpful to you…
http://diamondkt.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-deepest-...
http://diamondkt.blogspot.com/2009/10/giving-tabo...
Powerful stuff for sure. I feel the overall sentiment and i think That this post is going to appeal to many. Through your vulnerability you become real and raw and relatable, to me anyway. I think the days of people hiding what’s inside of them while simultaneously judging everyone around them is coming to an end. Or maybe not, but it’s a nice thought
Amazing post. Everyone is affected by mental illness somehow, even if they don't realize it. You are so awesome and brave to be sharing this, I hope it inspires others to break the taboo. Mental illness isn't something to be ashamed of. I'm sorry to hear about your camper, I hope pieces like this can help break the cycle. Hang in there x
aaaaand now I'm crying at work. I have problems, and I am ashamed of them. I really should see someone.
Amazing post! I have definitely found that the more open and honest you are about personal issues, the more you realize how many other people are going through similar things. It always helps to know you're not the only one.
Good for you for writing about this… I know what a struggle it is to deal with something like this, as I've fought my own battles with mental illness.
I heart you!
It's so very important for us to talk about the things we don't want to discuss! I should take a cue from you and discuss my dealings with HPV or other taboo topics I've experienced but don't discuss.
I can't wait until we can hang out again because honestly, Nicole, this post makes you even more beautiful, amazing, strong, fantastic and proud of you, too. xoxox
as someone with an anxiety disorder, who's been through much of the same, i really appreciate this post. thank you for being brave and sharing your story.
I'm so, so proud of you. In knowing you these last 8 months or so, and seeing the transformation your life has taken in even that amount of time… in reading this and feeling the sincerity and the love and the compassion you feel not only for yourself but for others experiencing any kind of 'this isn't quite right' type feeling.
I love you more and more each day.
I work in the mental health field, so I totally get you. And I'm not just saying this because I work in mental health, but because I've had my personal struggles lately. I've recently revealed my bout with depression on my blog. In a way, it was cathartic. It helped me face my own issues and admit to the world that maybe, I'm not OK now…but I will be.
This is great, Nicole. Thanks for sharing.
As the wife of a guy in the mental health field – I see how messed up it is that Medicare and SO many health insurance plans don't cover counseling or therapy. It's so, so wrong.
Instead of getting to the root of the problem, people have to treat symptoms.
Thank you for being vocal.
I love you!
I had a witty comment about switching from Vodka to Tequila… but I didn't feel like posting it- because what I really want to say is- I love your crazy. I hope you know this.
This is an absolutely amazing post — one that so many people can relate to. Thank you, Nicole, and I wish you the best of luck with your new nomadic lifestyle. I have no doubt that your writing will save many people.
My husband was diagnosed with bipolar disorder a few years ago. He also took Lamictal at one point. (For the past few years, he's been prescribed anti-convulsants, anti-depressants, anti-psychotics, etc…) He's off medication now (aside from his ADHD meds), and he's much more stable since we've been married. He still isn't sure it's bipolar. (His doctor has mentioned cyclothymia as well.) Though we don't have insurance, his psychiatrist still takes him at a reduced rate, and we're SO THANKFUL for that.
It's tough for him to talk about it sometimes. He likes to hide it because he's embarrassed by it. It's not even something I've talked about on my blog. I'm proud of him, though, for how far he has come.
Thank you for posting this … for taking one step toward breaking that taboo.
This moved me to tears. I started therapy and medication this summer after a horrible breakup and being with someone who made me feel "crazy." I discovered that I wanted to be around people who don't consider this topic taboo, those who were okay with me saying I was in therapy and on anti-anxiety meds. The people who didn't think I was suddenly "sick" and "crazy" because of it. I've got many words to say about it all and have been trying to bring myself to blog about some of it, but it just feels too soon. This is an inspiration though. Thank you for sharing your story.
i don't want to sound as dramatic as i'm constantly accused of being, but this entry, at this time of my life, is absolutely a lifesaver. yup.
You're so brave to tell your story. A girl at my University started a chapter of a club called Active Minds to help reduce the mental health stigma. Two of the members are on this website (Melissa and Kristen) http://www.mindingyourmind.org to help shed light on mental health. I think you definitely have the ability to truly HELP others with your story!
Being "normal" isn't really a reality for anyone. It's important to own all aspects of ourselves, even the ones we struggle with. Those struggles tell us who we are.
Why hide that?
Depression and bipolar behavior are things that have been a part of my life since I was a very young girl. Before I experienced it myself, I watched it yank on the lives of my family and pull at the threads that hold us together. It is a constant battle, a terribly difficult thing to deal with, both in your own life and the lives of those you love. It should not be a stigma. It should not be too hard or too expensive to get help if you need it. It should not be something we are ashamed to admit or pursue treatment for. It should not destroy lives. But it does.
Thank you for writing this. Honesty, with yourself and those who care about you, is the very first step in learning to live with something that can leave you loving life one day and ready to leave it behind the next. Every person who stands up and says "This is me. I'm not ashamed." saves at least one life.
::hugs:: I understand more than you ever know
I'm glad you posted this. I quit pretending that I don't struggle with it – and while doing so may not be any more socially acceptable in blogland than it is in the real world, I don't give a flip anymore. Good on you.
words can not express how wonderfully raw and honest this post was. some of the stuff you've gone through mirrors my own battle with MI.
I'm really fucking scared of the winter because I've found that it wholly exacerbates the issues I have. While during warmer/sunnier months I only deal with major anxiety & A.D.D., in the cold, dreary winter I shut down completely. I should do more as far as getting help, but I detested the last two doctors I saw and … ugh. Who am I kidding? I'm just scared as hell and overwhelmed too easily.
And luckily? The parity law says that health insurance companies HAVE to treat mental illness just as any other health complication and thereby provide many, many more people with MI health services. Of course, it only passed last year and getting the ball rolling has been difficult.
Oh my goodness, Nicole. This is beautiful. Totally beautiful- thank you for putting this out there. I knew you had a superhuman capacity for energy the first time I met you in person, and it seemed to be a beautiful part of how you are built- but I'm so sorry that it has a flip side for you that's this hard.
I had an anxiety disorder when I was in junior high through to a few years ago, and while I've got myself to a place where it doesn't effect me day to day now, I remember that initially it was definitely a feeling of "Oh great. I'm a complete freak. Like I need more things to be anxious about!!" I think it's profoundly difficult to explain how alone you can feel, both before you know what's wrong, and after you find out it has a name.
But this definitely captures it, and I'm so happy that you've dealt with it in such a positive way- and that you are brave enough to put it out here. You're an amazing lady =)
I love you and I love this story. This honesty and openness is what we need more of in our crazy world today. Thank you for sharing.
<3. The free counselling sessions at universities are great! We get 10 per calendar year, but I know from experience that nobody keeps count. I strongly feel that everybody should visit. Thanks for sharing this post!
Wow, your post really hit home with me on a personal level. A member in my family suffers from bipolar disorder. I've been struggling a while with the decision to see a mental health professional. I feel a lot of what you describe. I want to thank you for what you wrote. I think that I am closer to my decision now. It's time for me to talk to someone.
I never knew that such a large stigma existed around mental illness until my brother was diagnosed as bi-polar this year. His life has been nothing but shit ever since he started getting sick and knowing that you had a similar experience makes me extremely happy because I met you and had NO idea that you had gone through something like this. If you can find a routine and medicine that works for you and have normal days where you're social and feel free to have fun, then that means he can too. Thank you so much for posting this.
Beautifully put, Nicole. As is the case with everything you write, I’m now in love with you even more…
As someone who’s often wondered if she suffers from (a mild form?) bipolar disorder, this really struck home for me. The sad reality is however that growing up in a small community where quite literally everyone knows everyone’s business doesn’t give one much confidence to get the help they made need.
So I agree with you. Mental/mood issues aren’t something we should be ashamed to talk about, even if we aren’t suffering ourselves. Good for you, N, and thank you.
"Wonder angrily why your insurance doesn’t cover mental health treatment. Feel embarrassed about needing help in the first place. Think that if your insurance company doesn’t consider this a real problem, you should be able to just sack up and get over it already. Cry. Hide in your room. Cry. Skip class. Lie to everyone about what you’re going through. Sleep as much as possible. Wonder if the world and the people in your life would be better off without you. Start to understand suicide. Drink a lot of vodka."
I was there. I was *right there.* Sometimes I sort of feel like I left part of myself there and I visit that part on occasion, with increasing frequency. Anyway, thank you for writing this post, because, if I remember correctly, long long ago, you were the first person that I ever told that I had been there…
I love you, Nicole. I really, really do. You are strong and gifted and wonderful and so crushingly frank. You and I both know enough to know that there will be struggles ahead, but I truly believe that because of who you are, and because you seek the help you need, you will always be fine.
Hurrah for being brave enough to speak up, hey. That's really brilliant of you
Thank you for posting this. This helps me realize that more and more people are seeking help, even if they don't talk about it. I think it would make it easier for others if you talk about getting help. I have my first counseling session tomorrow evening and even though I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable about it, I'm sincerely hoping that it will help me get through life feeling a bit more alive.
This is why I love your blog. Such raw honesty – there should be more of it. Thank you for sharing it with us.
I'm so happy that someone is finally talking about this…I hate feeling like it's a taboo topic with my friends…Thanks so much for this post!
nicole this is an amazing post and i love you even more for putting it all out there and sharing your story. hopefully everyone can take your lead and get help when they need it instead of being afraid. seriously, heart you.
It's always refreshing to hear such honest reflections and, what I perceive to be, strength.
I must admit, however, that I think discussing mental health is no longer as taboo as it once was, at least in some circles. And I think it's becoming more and more common to experience depression, be on medication, see a therapist, etc. etc. The more we talk about it, the more we all realize that we're not alone in feeling so fucked up, that it's actually quite common and {gasp} normal! And maybe that will help us all feel a bit less fucked up to begin with.
I could go on and on about how amazing it is to find a great therapist, how your story sounds so familiar, and how much I admire your ability to tell it so openly and so well. But, for now, I'll just say, thank you for sharing and hello! I've been kind of lurking the last few months, but reading still. You are, as always, a breath of fresh air.
Heartbreakingly beautiful post.
This is so inspiring. There is nothing to be ashamed of in talking about mental health issues. NOTHING. Psychologists, therapists and the like are there to help. You are honestly an inspiration to so many by writing this. Including my younger sister.
Thank you.
This is beautiful Nicole. The hardest things to talk about are often the most important things to share, so thank you for this. A cousin of mine committed suicide, seemingly out of the blue, and since then, I have been so convinced that everyone needs an outlet. You're so brave for having this be yours.
xoxo
You've already read my story, so obviously I love you for telling yours. I can only hope that if more of us speak out, share and speak honestly, there will be less stigma, and more people feeling like they're okay.
I am so beyond impressed by this post. As a person with a degree in psychology- I really wish everyone could be so honest. I, myself, am starting to understand my own problems with anxiety and where my eating disorder comes from and starting to be honest about things for the first time ever. I think we all have some sort of "mental illness" on some level. Thank you for writing this.
Thank you for this post. For being honest. I try to do the same. I see my therapist on Thursdays btw. I wish more people were. See my post "Eric." I am sorry for your loss. xo