Stigma: Part 2

So, I get asked from time to time if I feel stigmatized for having a mental illness. (Well, DUH.) Note: I said "for having a mental illness," NOT "for being mentally ill." What's the difference, you ask? Let's take cancer, for example. One has cancer, one is not cancer. The only other illness I can think of where you are your illness is diabetes. The link between mental illness and diabetes is that they are seen as less-than, and people with those diseases are referred to as their diagnosis.

So, I beg to differ: I am NOT mentally ill – instead, I suffer from a mental illness. I am NOT my diagnosis.

There's also a debate in the mental health community as to what people who suffer from mental illness should be called. NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) encourages those with mental illness to refer to themselves as "consumers." Others urge using the word "client" over "patient." Personally, I don't discriminate between "client" or "patient" – both seem okay to me. Honestly, "consumer" seems a bit over the top to me, but if one is going to have a label, I think one should pick the one that feels the most comfortable.

So, back to being stigmatized: if you haven't already guessed, I am not shy about having a mental illness. It wasn't always that way – at first, I hid my illness from everyone I could. For me, keeping everything secret and hidden away under wraps only made my illness worse. When I began to share what was in my head that I began to heal – secrecy was my enemy. Not everybody agrees with me – I think I embarrass some people because I am not more discrete.

Way back when there was a major push to close state hospitals; what was promised instead were community mental health centers. The former happened – the latter did not. The NIMBY ("Not In My Back Yard") movement was launched and was part of the reason the community centers never got off the ground: nobody wanted the "crazies" in their neighborhood.

Ironically, the "crazies" are rarely dangerous. Individuals with mental illness are far LESS likely to commit acts of violence and far MORE likely to be targets of violence than those without mental illness. Note: when it comes to school shooters, 'cause I know somebody's going to go there, some people are just bad people – and not all bad people suffer from a mental illness.

I am at peace with the public knowing I have a mental illness, but by no means is everyone with mental illness good with everyone knowing and their reasons are valid. Ask yourself, would going public risk your job? Would it risk your child custody? If the answer is yes, ask yourself: who can I safely tell? A therapist is bound to keep your information confidential and may be the safest person in an unsafe world.

Fighting your illness alone is one giant invite for the Beast that is suicidality to rear its ugly head. I wish I could wave a magic wand, go back to the time I was first diagnosed, and go public about my illness then. I recognize that I wasn't ready – I also recognize how difficult my battle with suicidality was back then when I was silent. I hope you find a safe spot to land where you can feel heard and get your footing to smack down the Beast.