Bringing Mental Illness into the Light

Good morning.  I want to thank Pastor Don for giving me the opportunity to speak to you today.  About 2 months ago he approached me and asked me if I'd like to speak at church about my experiences living with depression and anxiety and the work I have been doing over the last couple of years to raise awareness and end the stigma surrounding mental illness.  I have been open with Don and many others about my struggles and successes, and he thought it would be a good message to share with all of you.  I was very reluctant, mostly because I don't much like public speaking and the idea made me really nervous.  Especially given the topic.  Today I will be speaking openly with you about things I worked very hard for many years to keep secret,.  Things I was once ashamed of.  I have learned, though, over the last several years that living with depression is nothing to be ashamed of.  It is an illness, a medical issue, just like diabetes and cancer. 

However, many people don't see it this way.  Some think of those of us who suffer as weak, or believe our mental illnesses are character flaws.  Still others don't even believe mental illnesses exist.  These stereotypes are the result of stigma.  Stigma is a mark of disgrace which sets a person apart from others.  Stigma is a very large part of living with a mental illness, and some, such as bipolar disorder and schizophrenia carry an even greater stigma than others.. I avoided facing stigma for the most part because I kept my depression and anxiety from other people.  However, self stigma has really affected me a great deal.  I have learned recently that my greatest issue with stigma is the stigma I hold towards my own illness.  This is a work in progress, but it is coming along.

It is because of this stigma that over the years I have chosen to fight my depression like many people do, in secrecy.  I chose this because I didn't really think there were any other options. You don't just go around telling people you have depression.  Well, at least that's what I thought then.  Obviously I've had a change of heart,  I have been in and out of therapy and on and off medication since around the age of 20.   It has been very helpful and has definitely changed my life for the better.  I don't see mental illness as just black and white.  There are different levels of the illness, and also two people with the same diagnosis can present very differently.  I'm fortunate in that my depression responds well to medication, when I am on medication my symptoms are greatly reduced.  However, because I didn't want to see myself as someone with a mental illness I always chose to go off of my medication once I started feeling better.  Inevitably, the symptoms would return.

In the summer of 2011 I was again not on any medication.  I had gone off several months before, with my doctor's help, because I hadn't had any symptoms of depression for several months.  Near the end of the summer I slipped into one of the worst episodes of depression I have ever had.  It really just hit me out of the blue, and it hit me hard.  Things were going fine.  I was getting ready to go back to school and on the outside everything was pretty normal.  But inside I was falling apart.  When the depression gets really bad I feel like an entirely different person.  I don't feel like myself anymore. There's no joy or smiling.  I wasn't sleeping normally, I wasn't functioning very well at work, it was hard to concentrate, and I felt hopeless.  Depression is an illness of the brain and it makes my thinking really negative.  I can remember getting home from work, which I was barely able to get through during that period, and just crying for long periods of time for no apparent reason.  Depression tells me lies about myself and my life.  Intrusive thoughts are negative thoughts that you cannot control.  This was what was happening with me. I remember so clearly I had the absolute belief that everyone in the world would be better off if I wasn't here.  I didn't ever attempt suicide, I didn't have a plan, but I was absolutely convinced that life would be better for everyone else if I were gone.  In those moments I didn't want to be alive.  It was a terribly scary thing to experience, and I really didn't know if I was going to make it through.  There was a sense of losing control.  I didn't know from one moment to the next how I would feel.

So at this point in my life I did what I had done several times before.  I made an appointment with my doctor to get back on medication and went back to my therapist.  This was definitely the scariest episode of depression I had ever been through, and I was very afraid.  Slowly I began to come out of the depression, and at that point something began to shift in me.  I  became extremely aware of how difficult it was for me to keep my depression to myself.  I didn't want to live in the darkness alone anymore, I was done hiding it, so slowly I began telling the people in my life.  The conversations were scary and difficult at first.  I still feared what people would think.  But with each conversation it got easier and more importantly it was a huge weight off of my shoulders.  

Around this time I became involved in something that would impact me even more.  In the summer of 2012 I participated in the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention's Out of the Darkness Overnight Walk in San Francisco with three friends.  It is an 18 mile walk from sunset to sunrise that raises money for suicide prevention.  There were about 2,000 of us walking that night.  Most walk because they have lost someone to suicide, while others of us walk because of our own experiences of living with mental illnesses.  One of the most empowering parts of the experience was the wearing of the honor beads.  There are different colors of necklaces that represent different connections to the cause.  The green necklace of honor beads I wore that night signified that I had personally struggled with a mental illness.  While it made me feel rather vulnerable at first, I quickly realized I was surrounded by people that understood, that didn't judge me, and whose lives had also been touched by mental illness.  It was a community full of love, tears, acceptance, and healing. 
This walk had such an impact on me that I decided to do it again this last summer in Seattle.  There were many aspects of the walk in Seattle this year that affected me, but one short conversation I had right as I arrived was the most memorable.  When you arrive you have to fill out some medical paperwork as part of checking in.  The woman who was helping me was very friendly and gracious..  She thanked me multiple times for walking, and we were just having a pleasant conversation.  I asked her if she was also going to be walking, and she said she wasn't ready yet because she had just lost her son to suicide 8 months before.  It's not everyday a stranger tells you upon meeting you the most painful thing that has ever happened in their life. This woman, who I have managed to stay in touch with thanks to social media, had her life turned upside down by this illness.   Her son was 17 at the time and had just been diagnosed with depression a few days before he took his life.  At that point they tried to get him into an inpatient program immediately for his own safety as she believed he was at risk.  However, the insurance required an intake process, so they had to wait 4 days.  Three hours before that appointment he took his life.  The fact that had the insurance company not delayed treatment he likely would have lived only makes this more difficult for her and her family.  And yet, she is already using her experience to help others by advocating for treatment and awareness of mental illness.  She, and so many others I met at the walk, are using their suffering to bring healing and hope to others.  I knew that was something I wanted for myself as well.  This is indeed an epidemic, with millions of Americans suffering from mental illness and nearly 40,000 each year taking their lives. 

This experience lit a fire under me.  It has been just over three months since I walked in Seattle, and I have been busy with my work as an advocate.  I have started a private Facebook page, which now has about 60 people involved, for anyone who has been affected by mental illness. This group has been a place of healing for me as well as others.  Connecting with others who understand has been an essential part of my healing.  Creating this safe space to really talk about our daily struggles and receive support is so powerful. A big part of being able to hold off episodes of depression is having people to talk to. 

Shortly after this I decided I was going to start a blog to write about my life with depression.  I was very scared about this step, because I knew I was opening doors that could not be closed.  This would be public, anyone could read it.  Coworkers, friends, family, parents of my students, anyone!  People in all of these groups have now read it, and it's okay.  There have been so many people who have come out in support of me.  Many have shared their struggles with me thanked me for opening up the conversation.  I feel that for people that have been affected, which is so many of us, there is a need to talk about these things but not always a place to do it.  By sharing my experiences, I realize now I have given others permission to do the same.

So now I am completely out in the open about the fact that I have depression and anxiety.  It is one of the most freeing and healing things I have ever done.  I have finally come to believe that there is no shame in having depression.  I am ready to use my struggles to help others and let them know they are not alone.  But it's still there.  I still live with my depression and anxiety and take steps each day to keep it at bay.  I go to therapy every week, I have support groups and people to talk to and connect with, and if things get rough I have a lot of tools and people to help me through.  I've accepted that this is something I will live with and have to work on for the rest of my life, but the difference between now and where I was even last year is that I know now there is nothing wrong with me as a person and that I'm not alone.

In the scripture reading this morning it talked about our weaknesses making us stronger.  "The weaker I become the stronger I get".  That has certainly been my experience these last several years.  The more I acknowledge my struggles, share my vulnerability, and let people know what I really experience the stronger I feel.   I don't know what lies in store for me, but I am committed to using my experiences to help others.  And for this, I am extremely grateful.  

Happy Valentine's Day???

I don't really like Valentine's Day.  Pretty much any holiday that is designed to point out connection, family, and love can trigger negative thoughts and feelings for me.  I don't like the idea of making up a day where you are "supposed" to behave and feel in a certain way.  Shouldn't every day be a day to let others know you care about them?

When I was a teen and young adult I really disliked most holidays, especially Valentine's Day and New Years Eve.  I felt so disconnected and alone, and the holidays just intensified that for me.  I often ended up spending them alone. I had friends and people in my life, but because of the depression and anxiety I always felt disconnected and alone anyway.  This still happens to a lesser degree at times, it is a part of living with this illness for me.

Now that I do often feel connected with my family and many friends I am not triggered in the way I once was, but I still don't really like the holiday.  I love my wife very much, but I don't need a special day designated by someone else to tell me that I should buy her something.  I also know a lot of people who struggle with depression and loneliness, and I know for many of them this is a hard day.  While I feel a great deal of gratitude today for all I have, I am very mindful of the millions of people out there feeling even more alone and isolated than they do on a "regular" day.  It is mainly this reason that I wish this holiday didn't exist.

Amy and I don't really celebrate Valentine's Day.  When we want to go out and spend time together we just do it.  When I want to buy her flowers I do.  Valentine's day is just not our thing.  As a matter of fact, we aren't even  together this evening.  She is with our older son at a church fundraiser providing childcare for couples who do want to go out.  I am at home with Mark.  We took the dogs to the dog park and tonight we are just relaxing and doing the things we like.  He's watching NBA All Star Saturday, and I'm writing (and also getting distracted watching basketball).  We both tend to need a bit more "alone time", so this is the perfect night for us.

It's odd that I don't really like a holiday that is supposed to be all about love.  I guess I want to live my life in love every day.  I don't need a holiday to let the people in my life know I love them.  I have an amazing and loving wife, two great boys, and so many great friends.  I would not have come so far in my battle with depression and anxiety without these people.  I am grateful.  I don't always feel the love and connection, but I know I am blessed.  My wish is for everyone to have that.  If this is a hard day for you, I'm so sorry.  You are not alone, none of us are!  

Hope in a Broken World

I wanted to write something to mark and celebrate Martin Luther King Jr. day.  I was born a little over a year after he was assassinated, but he still had a major impact on my life.  When I was in my late teens and early 20's I was dealing with depression and anxiety but didn't know it at the time.  I felt painfully isolated and disconnected from what I perceived to be a cruel world.  Reading his writings and learning about his courage in standing up to injustice inspired me. Despite the fact that I was completely unhappy I knew I wanted this in my life.  I wanted to make a difference.  I still do.

Here I am 25 years later, having healed so much from the scars of living with depression and anxiety, and I still look around and see a cruel world much of the time.  As a teacher I see decisions being made that are not in the best interest of students.  I look on Facebook and see my fellow teachers calling each other names and putting each other down simply because they disagree. I see an educational system that is being driven by people who don't understand a thing about teaching or have the least bit of concern for the children we are supposed to be serving.  I see students at my school who live in homes filled with violence, addiction, and abuse.  And then I look at statistics and see that every year nearly a million people attempt to take their own lives.  In sum, I see a broken world filled with suffering.

All of this hurts my heart, it makes me lose hope, and it just simply gets me down. It challenges my mental health on a daily basis. What it all has in common is that we seem so quick to dehumanize each other and there is a complete lack of compassion.  We forget that everyone has value.  We forget that we are more alike than we are different.  I desperately long for a world filled with more acceptance and kindness.  A world like the one Dr. King envisioned.

In addition to this, I also see many positive things in the world.  I have amazing friends and family who love me for who I am.  I am part of a church community that works to serve those in need and where  everyone is truly welcome.  I work with a principal and a group of teachers who put children first and set their egos aside to help students feel connected and make progress.  All students!  In the last six months I have met so many people in the mental health community who are doing amazing things to bring hope and love to people suffering with mental illness.  This discovery has been like finding a home I never knew existed.  I rarely feel alone these days.  There are multiple people in real life and online who I can reach out to when times are difficult.  This gives me hope, makes me feel strong and connected, and empowers me to keep working.

I struggle to reconcile these two worlds.  How do I stay positive and maintain my mental health without living in complete denial of the problems around me?  My most recent attempt has been to avoid all of the negativity that I can.  On Facebook I have hidden my school district's union page from my feed for my own sanity.  There is just too much bickering, negativity, and disrespect.  I can still check it if need be to stay updated on things happening, but it is not forced upon me.  I have done the same with several of my "friends" that post things that I find to be toxic.  I even removed several of them completely.  In real life I have a good bullshit radar and tend to naturally gravitate towards healthy and supportive people.  However, there are angry and bitter people I come into contact with just naturally.  People who I find to be passive-aggressive, who don't communicate directly, and who are generally negative.  I have been working to not personalize the behavior of these people. It's still very hard.

In my life, in addition to my family, I have two basic passions.  Teaching and mental health.  As a teacher I am passionate about children having a safe environment where they feel empowered and valued.  I am passionate in my belief that students are more than test scores, and that their social and emotional growth is every bit as important as their academic success.  My other, and more recently developed, passion is that as a mental health advocate.  I want mental illness to be seen just the same way as any other illness.  I want there to be no shame associated with having a mental illness.  I want people to be able to reach out without fear of judgment when they feel hopeless, alone, and suicidal.  We have a long way to go, but this is my work in life.  .


Teaching is my profession and I love it, but mental health advocacy is where I've found home.  Living with depression and anxiety has shaped and continues to shape every aspect of my life, and finding a community of people who share my passion and experiences has been the most life changing experience of my life.  In the last six months I have found my voice for the first time.  I never believed it would be possible to live openly with my mental illness.  I never dreamed that I would be able to use my suffering to help others.  And yet, here I am doing just that.

Dr. King stood up for what he believed in and constantly preached peace, love, and non-violence.  While I'm no Dr. King, I also have my own dream about how I can change the world. In searching around this morning I found a quote from him, "Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter".  It seems rare that people really speak about things that truly matter these days.  We are a country divided and our leaders are not working together to make the world a better place for it's citizens.  It's up to us.  We all have our passions, we all have the capacity to use them to make our worlds kinder and more full of love.  And the world can never have too much love and compassion.

Coming back out of my Shell

I haven't posted anything for a while, probably about a month.  I feel like I've lost my voice and confidence in writing.  I could say it's been about being busy, and while I have been, I've also been avoiding my blog.  As a matter of fact, I've been questioning whether I would just quit doing my blog altogether.  I'm not going to.  Something happened in the last week that has reminded me a bit about why I write. So here I am, writing again. 

I was having a conversation with a friend and they brought up the topic of my blog.  They thanked me for writing and told me they had some mental health struggles of their own that they are starting to get help with, but they are not ready to be open about it.   They also told me that when they read what I write it's like I am inside their head writing their thoughts.  I really needed to hear that.  I know it's important to feel good about myself without the affirmation of others, but sometimes I just really need to hear that what I'm doing is helpful.  It's hard to write things and not get any feedback, not know if anyone is reading it or getting anything out of it. 

This helped me remember one of the main reasons I write, and that is to let others know they are not alone.  Being out in the open now it's easy to forget how isolating it can be to suffer alone.  Heck, it's unbearably painful at times living openly.  And I guess that is my point.  In this conversation I had with my friend they mentioned several times that they didn't want to tell people because of the judgment they would face.  Battling any mental health issues is hard work, and adding the need to keep it from people can be so isolating and painful.  So even if people don't come out in the open, just knowing someone can relate and understands can make a big difference.  I know it does for me, and if my blog can do that for others than it is worth it.

But I don't only write for others, I also write for myself.  Living with depression and anxiety means that it's easy for me to want to crawl back in my shell when things get difficult.  It's easy to lose my confidence and not want to keep putting myself out there.  That's where I've been for a bit. Putting things out to the world helps take the shame away from me, and helps me feel more connected.

In the spirit of putting things out there, I will share two things with you.  I'll start with a challenge and finish with some exciting news.  Today I'm feeling horrible.  Tomorrow the family goes back to work and school, and the dread is weighing on me today.  This has been a challenging year for both of my kids, and the weekly routine and homework battles have been much more stressful than normal.  While I love my job and have an amazing class of 4th graders this year, there is increased stress there as well with massive changes and a lack of leadership and support from the district I work for.  I know I'll be fine once I get going on the routine, but for today it's dread and a complete lack of energy to do anything.

Despite my current mood, I also have good news as well.  I submitted an application yesterday to be part of a speakers bureau for Stop Stigma Sacramento.  I am not familiar with how it all works exactly, but I know that members of the speakers bureau share their stories at schools, businesses and other places in order to erase the stigma surrounding mental illness.  I'm terrified of this, but I know my fear will not decrease until I just do it.  So I will.  I'm not sure how quickly it will come together, but I'm excited to have taken that first step of submitting my application.  In the meantime, I'll continue to remember and trust that I can do this.  Not only that, but I know it will open new doors for me and help me grow and heal. 

Self Care Progress, Kind Of

I happen to be in a profession that really takes a toll on my body.  Being an elementary school teacher I am on stage for nearly 6 hours a day and it is extremely exhausting work.  I love it and I'm good at it, but it really wears me down.  I often get sick about this time of year, and it has happened again.

I'm grateful to have a boss that understands that family and your health need to come before work, but it's still hard to take time away when I need it.  The students don't generally respond well to substitutes, and when I come back there is often something to deal with that happened while I was gone.  On top of that, it typically takes about an hour or more to get the plans together to have a substitute in your class.  It's not the kind of job where you can just wake up and call in sick.  

It was this exact week last year, the week before Christmas break from school, that I was home in bed all week beginning my recovery from pneumonia.  I remember the week before I had noticed a cold or something developing in my chest.  However, instead of recognizing the signs and slowing down I ignored it and thought I could push through it until Christmas break.  Well, that didn't turn out too well.  Being so sick was scary, and being in bed for over a week definitely got my attention.  This past year I've really tried to work on taking better care of myself and recognizing the signs my body gives me.  I've had mixed results.

I'd like to tell you that I've made all of these dramatic changes; that I exercise regularly, eat well, and get consistent sleep.  As someone who suffers from depression and anxiety I know the importance of these things for my well being.  But if I told you that I'd be lying.  I exercise occasionally, I love beer and ice cream, and sometimes I stay up too late on work nights and don't get enough sleep.  The unavoidable stress of having two dogs, two teenage boys, and a busy job definitely play a role in all of this.  I try to remember this and do my best.  I think a big part of my self care is not expecting perfection, and to be gentle with myself when I don't make the best choices.

As often is the case, I had another opportunity this week to make a better choice given similar circumstances.  On Saturday, which was the exact day last year that I was diagnosed with pneumonia, I began feeling that congestion in my chest and the exhaustion of an oncoming illness.  But this time I listened to my body.  I rested that whole day and Sunday also.  Then I went to work yesterday and took it as easy as I could on a rainy day with kids in the room all day.  During the times they were working and inside recess time I diligently worked on my sub plans for today.  So now I am home resting and trying to get over this thing.  I cancelled my therapy appointment for today and I took a long nap. I'm far from perfect when it comes to taking care of my body, but I can celebrate the fact that I listened better to my body this year than I did last year.  I'm hoping that means it will pass quickly and not linger into my Christmas break.

I am a Stigma Fighter

About five months ago I began writing this blog and quickly became connected with people around the world who also blog about issues related to mental illness.  Within a day of posting my first entry I was connected to someone through a mutual friend who was also a mental health blogger.  She promptly added me to a private Facebook page for mental health advocates who blog about their experiences.  It was a bit overwhelming at first to be among all these accomplished writers who were doing great things as mental health advocates, but it was also a wonderful gift.  I realized I was not alone in this endeavor, that there are thousands of people all over the world doing amazing things to raise awareness about mental illness and end the stigma and shame associated with having a mental illness.

One of those people is Sarah Fader.  She has created a webpage called Stigma Fighters where people share their stories of living with a mental illness.  It is very powerful to see people from all walks of life taking a risk and sharing their stories of suffering in order to heal themselves and others.  She is trying to take the next step and turn Stigma Fighters into a non-profit organization that would create chapters at college campuses where students who struggle can become part of a community who understands.  In order for her to take this next step, she needs to raise $5,000 to become a non-profit and set up some tours of college campuses to get things started.  

 I was so impressed by her work and I decided to get involved a bit.  I donated some money and also submitted my own story of living with mental illness to her page. Stigma Fighters is a community, and I am happy to be a part of it.  Around this time I also began following the progress of her fundraising and was surprised and disappointed to see that more people were not donating.   

I think people don't realize the severity of this problem, especially for our young people.  Suicide is the second leading cause of death for people aged 15-24.  As a father of two teenagers this really scares me.  Mental illness and suicide are not things that only happen to "other people", it can happen to anyone.  There are over 1,000 suicides annually at U.S. colleges, which means an average of three people each day taking their own life on a college campus. 

Despite all of this, I still never really hear about it.  It's still a topic that is taboo and filled with shame for people.  By not talking about this issue, we are teaching our youth that it is indeed a shameful thing that should not be spoken of.  Then when youth begin to have symptoms, as many do, they feel ashamed, isolated, and don't know how to get help.  They need to know it's okay to talk about it, and they need to have a place where they can get help.  Stigma Fighters can be that place. I sincerely hope that this money can be raised so Sarah can continue moving forward with this important work.  Without a doubt I know it does and will continue to save lives.  

If you are interested in donating here is the link to her fundraising page:  http://www.funddreamer.com/campaigns/help-stigma-fighters-become-a-501c3

Staying Afloat

I haven't been able to write for several weeks now.  I'm not really sure why, but I have a few theories.  First, ever since I shared my story of living with depression publicly at church about a month ago I just am not sure what to talk about.  That was such an intense experience that maybe I just felt like I needed to crawl back in my shell for a bit?  Another possible theory is the "my life is crazy" theory.  This has been a really tough last several months for me.  Both of my sons are having difficult years in school (10th and 7th grade) and the tension and conflict in the house is really creating a lot of stress.  On top of this we got a new dog, a one year old bulldog, right around the time school started.  She is having a harder time of settling in than we had hoped, and it really feels similar to having a toddler back in the house.  She chews things and we need to watch her most of the time.  The combination of these two things has me so busy and stressed I don't often have time to slow down and reflect.

Whatever the reason, I don't like it.  I miss writing, I miss publishing things, and I miss the cathartic experience of putting things on "paper" and sharing it with the world.  When life is stressful I need that release that writing brings me even more.  So here I am, trying again to write.  Seeing what may come.  I'm guessing this won't be one of my better posts, and it will likely reflect where my mind is right now.  Scattered. 

These last several weeks have been particularly challenging.  Truthfully, we are at the point of not being sure if we will be able to keep our new dog.  This is a really difficult decision to make because our youngest son has become really attached to her and we worry about the effect giving her up would have on him.  We have a trainer we have worked with before, and are going to give that a shot before making any decisions.  Part of this is that she requires so much attention and energy, and our boys haven't been as helpful as we had hoped.  They are struggling to keep up with their workload in school as it is.

So in this time the question I am often asked by my therapist is, "What can you do to take care of yourself?"  Well... I suppose that's an area where I'm a bit of a mixed bag right now.  On the one hand, I'm going to yoga once or twice a week.  I really love yoga and it clears my head and gives me a fresh perspective most of the time.  On the other hand, I find myself turning to alcohol a bit more frequently after a stressful day.  Not an excessive amount, but it likely makes me more worn out in the long run.  I think my biggest barrier to self-care though is just being hard on myself.  Expecting myself to be perfect, getting down on myself for not always reacting in the best way when things get tough with my sons.  Life is just hard sometimes, and now is one of those times.  This is always a difficult time of year with the days getting shorter, the long stretch of school from August to November without many breaks, and just getting worn down.  I need to remind myself that I don't have to be perfect.  I need to remember all of the good things that I do, and not dwell on my struggles but learn from them. I need to keep writing, connecting, and reaching out when I feel overwhelmed and disconnected.  I'm starting to do those things a bit more this last week, and I can feel the difference.

So despite the fact that my household feels much like a battle zone these days, I am hanging in there.  I am doing my very best to be a good parent, husband, teacher, and person while still working to take care of myself.  I'm certainly not doing it perfectly, but that isn't my goal anyway.  Doing my best, being transparent about what is happening, and living with the results is what I'm striving for.