It is what I suppose you would call the night of Bell Let’s
Talk rather than the eve.
But evenings, nights, those long, dark, quiet periods of
time, can be the toughest for me when I am in a period of mental darkness.
I have struggled with depression since I was a teen.
Many years ago, I tried to take my own life on more than one occasion,
though less with conviction than with a need to be understood.
Obviously, and thankfully, I was unsuccessful in those
attempts. I think that is the first time I have been public with that
statement.
I credit my children for saving my life, because for over two decades now, even in my
darkest moments, which are these days far fewer, I could never contemplate
taking my own life and leaving them in pain.
I have run the gamut of pills, mental health clinics and med
appointments. Read books, worked out (and I have to say, the exercise was
probably the most successful remedy in my case), talked to friends, my doctor,
and wrote a series about mental illness in The Echo in my days of committing
journalism.
I even won the Ma Murray award for community service with
that series. Received this great big silver sculpture of beaver on a log…
And Clara Hughes Ride For Mental Health and Bell Mobility’s
Let’s Talk day have been something I have followed quietly with interest over
the past five years.
I am not ashamed to say I have struggled.
I am not ashamed to say there are days I still do.
But I have found a groove that helps me get through it, and I
am exceedingly thankful I have.
When we talk about mental illness, when we open our minds
and understand it, we take away the stigma.
When I did the series I mentioned, many of the people who
came forward to talk to me remained anonymous, because that stigma created
fear.
Fear they would lose respect. Fear they would lose their
job. Fear their friends and family would look at them differently.
And let’s be honest: their fears were not without
justification because as a society, we have tagged people with mental illness
as “those people.”
So let’s change that.
Let’s keep talking. Let’s understand mental illness. And
let’s, if nothing else, understand there is help out there, and no one, NO ONE,
should be afraid to reach out for that help.
No two paths are the same. But the destination is.
5 comments:
Beautifully, bravely put.
I see A.M. has beaten me to my intended comment: A very brave post. And I hope posting such, as well as the writing of it, helps, as and when help feels necessary.
I do have friends who have their problems with mental health issues, problems which were always a part of them. And I've had friends whose problems were brought on by "outside" factors, stresses at work or divorce amongst them.
So one thing I have learned is that it really can happen to anyone during their life. What you say is so true: "When we talk about mental illness, when we open our minds and understand it, we take away the stigma."
PS: I need a hat.
Hello Sir Ian! Lovely to hear from you! Thank you both for your kind words.
I have been incredibly fortunate in my life, especially lately, to have found a deep well of strength and calm to repel an encroaching dark tide.
And as for the hat... goodness, I wish I had it as well! A friend's playful son popped it on my head and snatched my camera while I was shooting his aunt's wedding.
(he gave the camera back!)
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