So this is it...

I was never sure if this blog would be public, or even if it was a good idea to talk about my mental health in this way. I have Bipolar Disorder. But then I figured if I had diabetes, I wouldn't be ashamed of chronicling it in a blog. And that is the problem with mental health issues.

I have a disorder that most likely I was born with, that triggered in my early twenties and will need managing my whole life. Mental health needs talking about more.

Tuesday 1 July 2014

It's good to talk

Or so the saying (and BT advert) goes. It has been a message widely promoted in recent mental health campaigns as a way of improving our mental health and reducing stigma. I myself have run and taken part in Time to Talk events aimed at promoting talking as a fundamental step in tackling mental illness. I have written on this blog and on facebook on the importance of talking and being open myself. And yet I'm not sure it would be true to say that I do in fact, practice what I preach. I have a very distinct memory of my admission to the Mother and Baby unit. Sitting in a small office, a psychiatrist asks me how I am today. My reply? "um, ok, sort of". Not even an understatement. Luckily the mental health professionals I have worked with have mostly been able to see through this very British response and dig deeper. I was in fact at crisis point, hallucinating on the edge of psychosis. It could be that this state of mind was to blame for my understated reply, but in actually it is very common for me and for others to reply automatically to these everyday questions. Everyday you will be asked "How are you?", "How are you doing?" and many variations on these. How many of us answer truthfully? Consider for a moment how our day is, our home or work life at that instant. Most of us will answer automatically, with a practiced response or smile that indicates that everything is fine, even when it isn't. I've often wondered why this is, and whether it is inherently a British issue, uneasy at sharing the inner depths of our lives with others. Which would explain why you wouldn't want to share your despair or joy with a virtual stranger on a bus, or even a work colleague. But it doesn't really explain why some of us, me definitely, do it with our friends and family. There is one group of people who I have observed don't do this and are happy, in fact grateful to share the ups and downs of their day with others. Many older people when asked the simple "How are you?" will often unburdern themselves of the stresses and strains of their day, their health, their relationships with family. It isn't always aprecciated by the asker, and yet I think it should be admired. I'm not suggesting that we share our life story with everyone we meet on a daily basis. But perhaps we would all feel a little less burdened if we could answer truthfully and admit when things are so good, when life is stressful and hard work. One of the reasons I imagine that people don't always share the truth is that they are fearful of the other person's response. We don't want to make people feel uncomfortable, or make them think less of us. But we are overthinking the talking process. The 'good' from talking comes in the unloading, the putting into real words the things in our heads, the feeling of sharing a load with someone else. It isn't a problem solving. The older ladies I have talked to on buses haven't expected me to come up with solutions to their health problems or their relationship with their son. They just want another human being to listen, to care enough to take some of that burden. So the next time you are asked or ask "How are you?" think about what you are really feeling and what you could really do to help someone talk.