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.

Wednesday 28 October 2015

Sharing is caring

Sharing is caring, or so I say to my children when I want some of their chocolate! Except sometimes sharing is scary, no matter how much you believe in openness. I'm passionate, evangelical in fact, about reducing the stigma surrounding mental health by talking about it, opening up, refusing to hide my diagnosis, my experience. But that doesn't make sharing easy for me, doesn't mean I do it freely and without worry of consequences. I had become quite complacent at sharing my experiences, talking openly about mental health. If I'm honest this was because everyone I was talking to already knew, those doors had already been opened, those shaky bridges tested. I was sharing in an echo chamber, with no danger of repercussion. And then recently I started a new job and with this came new colleagues, new Facebook friends and a whole new set of people who didn't know. Here was my opportunity to preach my message again, prove my openness. And it terrified me. What if the slightly odd glances started, the 'are you ok' looks. What if once it came out any chance of friendship and working relationship was ruined along with future chances of promotions and progression? I'm ashamed to say I hid some new colleagues on a Facebook post, changing the settings so they couldn't see. Not really in the spirit of transparency that I have been so vocal about. And so I took a leap, a stumbling, clunky chance during a conversation about having babies. I admitted that having another baby would probably break me, and explained what had happened to me. But our conversation was cut short, and I worried all that night, convinced that I'd made a mistake, that I'd return to work to find my colleague moved away. I hadn't. And I've since shared more via a fundraising event that I'm doing. And it feels like a weight has been lifted, and now I can be more honest about who I am. But I imagine this will happen again in the future and I hope I am less fearful and able to be honest without worrying about what might happen, how people might perceive me differently. And every time I do share with someone new and they are supportive I get a little bit closer to that reality.