I still vividly remember walking out of a water park with my two sons one year ago today, checking my phone, and learning that Robin Williams had taken his life. I couldn't comprehend it, I wanted to believe it wasn't true. It couldn't be true. But it was, and it haunted me for several weeks. It is still very sad to me now. It's still hard for me to watch his movies or TV shows. It is sad because he touched my life and the lives of millions. It is sad because he did so much good in the world, and it seemed he still had so much to give. The same can be said of every one of the 40,000 people who choose to take their lives each year. They all still had more to give, but the pain and suffering just became too much.
Most, if not all, who take their lives do not have the fame, fortune, and reach of Robin Williams. However, each of these people have parents, siblings, friends and loved ones left behind. I have never experienced the loss of someone that close to me to suicide, but I know that those who do are scarred for life. They experience extreme guilt, sadness, and regret. And I'm sure much more. While there is likely healing over time, I'm told by those who have experienced this type of loss that the pain is always there.
Perhaps the one truth that stands out to me as I reflect on this day is the intense power of depression. Robin Williams had everything. He had fame, money, family, adoration, and an incredible amount of talent. It was still no match for the depression and despair he must have felt that led him to take his own life. Mental illness does not discriminate, it is an equal opportunity illness. We are all vulnerable.
It is often said that you have to be strong to fight mental illness. And I think that's true. I know my experiences have strengthened and challenged me. However, for me it is equally, if not more, important to acknowledge my weakness in my fight against depression and anxiety. I am extremely fortunate that the medication I take really controls my symptoms, and that the work I have done in life has healed many of the emotional scars I developed from growing up with this illness. I have not experienced a major episode of depression in nearly 4 years. At some points, my head even tries to trick me into believing it is gone altogether. It's not.
However, I have a consistent awareness that I still have the illness. I know it can strike at any moment, and that it is more powerful than I am. When I have symptoms, negative thoughts, or signals I have learned can lead to an episode I don't try to "fight" them off. Suppressing them or blaming myself only makes things worse. I listen to them. I let them be with the knowledge that they usually pass. I remind myself that it is the illness, and that there is nothing wrong with me. And when none of that works, or it becomes too hard, I get support. Through therapy, writing, talking to a friend, or sharing it in an online support group where I know I will be understood and affirmed. Thankfully this continues to work for me.
I'm mindful that it doesn't work for everyone. Not all people experience depression the same way, and not all depression responds to treatment. Some people can go to therapy, get support, eat well, exercise, take their medication, and still experience intense depression. It is not their fault. It's not because they are weak. They have an illness, as do I. And at times, as it was for Robin Williams, it is fatal.
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Speaking publicly about mental illness
Tonight was my first speaking event for Stop Stigma Sacramento, I spoke in front of about 40 people. Most of them were board members of the Sacramento Children's Home, and also many of their spouses. Below is my speech.
Hello. My name is Danny Price. I am a 4th grade teacher, a father of two teenage boys, a husband, a son, a youth worker for my church and a friend to many. I also live with mental illness. Today I will be talking about something I kept secret for many years,. Something I was once ashamed of. I have learned, though, over the last several years that living with a mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. I live with major depression and anxiety. It is an illness, a medical issue, just like diabetes or cancer.
I have lived with major depression and anxiety since my teenage years. As I think back I first noticed something seemed wrong when I was a young teenager. I felt different than everybody else. I had friends and lived an outwardly normal existence, but on the inside I was filled with fear, shame, and pain. My high school years were very difficult emotionally, but because I was scared and ashamed I didn't tell anyone about it. There was not much awareness about mental health 30 years ago, and I didn't understand what was happening. My family also didn't understand or recognize the symptoms, therefore I did not receive any help or support with my problems. This continued into college.
Around the age of 20 I first took action to do something about this pain I felt. I don’t remember how it happened to be honest. I first started therapy and antidepressants in my early 20s. I stayed in the same therapy group for 7 years and it changed my life. The work was very hard and slow. During this time and after I would go off of my medication once I started to feel better. This went on for years I would have long periods of doing well. But eventually it would always creep back in. And not only that, but each time the interval between episodes would get shorter, and the intensity of the episode would be stronger. This continued, and about 4 years ago I hit a breaking point.
One of the misperceptions about depression is that it is a reaction to bad things happening in your life. While this can be true, it isn't always this way. sometimes things can be going along just fine and depression will hit anyway. This is where I was in the summer of 2011. Everything in my life was going well, and I quickly fell into a deep depression. This made it really hard for me. What's wrong with me that I feel this way when I have so many good things in my life? I should just be grateful for all that I have. It was the end of summer and I was getting ready to go back to work. I had tapered off of my medication with help from my doctor. The depression hit quickly and harder than ever. I worked very hard to keep up the appearance of normalcy on the outside, but inside I was falling apart. Over the next several weeks as I went back to work things got worse. I had trouble making it through the work day. I didn't feel like myself anymore. I felt a constant heaviness, I couldn't smile, I wasn't able to sleep, and I often cried for no apparent reason. I was losing control of my life. It was incredibly scary. Depression tells me lies, it tells lies to everyone who suffers. And when you are in the middle of it, it's easy to believe the lies. The worst part of this particular occurrence of depression was that I became absolutely convinced that I was a burden to all those around me and that everyone would be better off if I was not alive. I did not actively seek to end my life, but I did wish I wasn't alive. The pain was so unbearable that I did not want to live.
I was very scared, and I realized I needed help. I had never had an episode of depression this bad before. I took it more seriously than I had in the past. Instead of just going to my regular doctor, I went to see a psychiatrist and got back on medication. It was the first time I had been officially diagnosed. I have recurrent major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety disorder. I also went back to see my therapist. This was different also. In my work there I began to recognize how difficult it was for me to pretend that all is well when it isn't. I didn't want to live this way anymore.
I slowly began the process of coming out in the open with my illness. I started this process by having conversations with friends and family. It was very scary, and I wasn't sure how people would respond. I was afraid people would judge me, think less of me, or discount my experience. To my surprise many people shared with me ways in which their lives had been affected by mental illness. Some had struggled themselves, many had friends or family members with depression or other mental illness, and sadly some had lost loved ones to suicide. I realized that by talking about my struggles I gave permission to others to do the same. Realizing the healing effect talking about my illness had both on me and those around me I decided to do more.
Since that time I have become outspoken about mental illness and have become an advocate. Through social media I have met many other advocates from around the world. I now live openly with my mental illness. I had no idea how freeing that would feel. It was like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. Living openly has taken away much of the power depression holds over me. Depression thrives on secrecy, it makes you think it is all your fault. But the good news is it's not. It's an illness. A chemical imbalance in your brain. Like any illness it's hard to manage, but it can be done. I take medication daily and still go to therapy twice a month. I have a strong support system in real life and through social media . Having come to accept my mental illness, and seeing the effect it has had on me has made me want to speak out even more. And that is why I'm here talking to you today.
I speak out is because I know firsthand how isolating it can be trying to fight this illness alone. I speak out because I know that two thirds of the people with mental illness do not seek help. I speak out to let people know that they are not alone, and to end the stigma surrounding mental illness. I speak out because over 40,000 people die each year in the United States to suicide, with nearly a million making attempts. And finally, I speak out because I know in doing so it can change and save lives.
We can all do things to help decrease the stigma. The first is to take action and seek help for ourselves if we are struggling. Also, we can have conversations with others and challenge stereotypes about mental illness when we hear them. The last point I will leave you with is that we who struggle with mental illnesses become masters at hiding our pain and struggles. Therefore, the most important thing to do is to treat each other with compassion because we may not know for sure who is suffering. Listening to each other is valuable, and I thank you for listening to my story.
Hello. My name is Danny Price. I am a 4th grade teacher, a father of two teenage boys, a husband, a son, a youth worker for my church and a friend to many. I also live with mental illness. Today I will be talking about something I kept secret for many years,. Something I was once ashamed of. I have learned, though, over the last several years that living with a mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. I live with major depression and anxiety. It is an illness, a medical issue, just like diabetes or cancer.
I have lived with major depression and anxiety since my teenage years. As I think back I first noticed something seemed wrong when I was a young teenager. I felt different than everybody else. I had friends and lived an outwardly normal existence, but on the inside I was filled with fear, shame, and pain. My high school years were very difficult emotionally, but because I was scared and ashamed I didn't tell anyone about it. There was not much awareness about mental health 30 years ago, and I didn't understand what was happening. My family also didn't understand or recognize the symptoms, therefore I did not receive any help or support with my problems. This continued into college.
Around the age of 20 I first took action to do something about this pain I felt. I don’t remember how it happened to be honest. I first started therapy and antidepressants in my early 20s. I stayed in the same therapy group for 7 years and it changed my life. The work was very hard and slow. During this time and after I would go off of my medication once I started to feel better. This went on for years I would have long periods of doing well. But eventually it would always creep back in. And not only that, but each time the interval between episodes would get shorter, and the intensity of the episode would be stronger. This continued, and about 4 years ago I hit a breaking point.
One of the misperceptions about depression is that it is a reaction to bad things happening in your life. While this can be true, it isn't always this way. sometimes things can be going along just fine and depression will hit anyway. This is where I was in the summer of 2011. Everything in my life was going well, and I quickly fell into a deep depression. This made it really hard for me. What's wrong with me that I feel this way when I have so many good things in my life? I should just be grateful for all that I have. It was the end of summer and I was getting ready to go back to work. I had tapered off of my medication with help from my doctor. The depression hit quickly and harder than ever. I worked very hard to keep up the appearance of normalcy on the outside, but inside I was falling apart. Over the next several weeks as I went back to work things got worse. I had trouble making it through the work day. I didn't feel like myself anymore. I felt a constant heaviness, I couldn't smile, I wasn't able to sleep, and I often cried for no apparent reason. I was losing control of my life. It was incredibly scary. Depression tells me lies, it tells lies to everyone who suffers. And when you are in the middle of it, it's easy to believe the lies. The worst part of this particular occurrence of depression was that I became absolutely convinced that I was a burden to all those around me and that everyone would be better off if I was not alive. I did not actively seek to end my life, but I did wish I wasn't alive. The pain was so unbearable that I did not want to live.
I was very scared, and I realized I needed help. I had never had an episode of depression this bad before. I took it more seriously than I had in the past. Instead of just going to my regular doctor, I went to see a psychiatrist and got back on medication. It was the first time I had been officially diagnosed. I have recurrent major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety disorder. I also went back to see my therapist. This was different also. In my work there I began to recognize how difficult it was for me to pretend that all is well when it isn't. I didn't want to live this way anymore.
I slowly began the process of coming out in the open with my illness. I started this process by having conversations with friends and family. It was very scary, and I wasn't sure how people would respond. I was afraid people would judge me, think less of me, or discount my experience. To my surprise many people shared with me ways in which their lives had been affected by mental illness. Some had struggled themselves, many had friends or family members with depression or other mental illness, and sadly some had lost loved ones to suicide. I realized that by talking about my struggles I gave permission to others to do the same. Realizing the healing effect talking about my illness had both on me and those around me I decided to do more.
Since that time I have become outspoken about mental illness and have become an advocate. Through social media I have met many other advocates from around the world. I now live openly with my mental illness. I had no idea how freeing that would feel. It was like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. Living openly has taken away much of the power depression holds over me. Depression thrives on secrecy, it makes you think it is all your fault. But the good news is it's not. It's an illness. A chemical imbalance in your brain. Like any illness it's hard to manage, but it can be done. I take medication daily and still go to therapy twice a month. I have a strong support system in real life and through social media . Having come to accept my mental illness, and seeing the effect it has had on me has made me want to speak out even more. And that is why I'm here talking to you today.
I speak out is because I know firsthand how isolating it can be trying to fight this illness alone. I speak out because I know that two thirds of the people with mental illness do not seek help. I speak out to let people know that they are not alone, and to end the stigma surrounding mental illness. I speak out because over 40,000 people die each year in the United States to suicide, with nearly a million making attempts. And finally, I speak out because I know in doing so it can change and save lives.
We can all do things to help decrease the stigma. The first is to take action and seek help for ourselves if we are struggling. Also, we can have conversations with others and challenge stereotypes about mental illness when we hear them. The last point I will leave you with is that we who struggle with mental illnesses become masters at hiding our pain and struggles. Therefore, the most important thing to do is to treat each other with compassion because we may not know for sure who is suffering. Listening to each other is valuable, and I thank you for listening to my story.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
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.
Saturday, February 14, 2015
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!
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!
Monday, January 19, 2015
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
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
Sunday, October 19, 2014
A Bump in the Road
It's hard for me to say I'm not doing okay. But that's where I was much of today. My depression and anxiety are lying to me. I don't believe them, but it's still been a hard day. I've been having negative thoughts about myself, overreacting to things, and I just wanted to hide in a corner somewhere. And truthfully, sometimes in these moments hiding in a corner for a while is the best thing I can do.
I was already feeling a bit off when I woke up this morning, it seems it's been building up for a week or so with the stress and just feeling not quite right. Being overly busy, which I have been for over a month, can trigger a mood like this. Especially once I have a bit of down time like I have had this weekend. Today at church was youth Sunday, which meant both of my sons would be participating in the service in one way or another. One was leading the prayer and the other was playing his electric bass with the band and reading scripture. It "should" have been a happy and proud moment for me, but when I'm feeling bad it doesn't really matter what's happening on the outside. I am proud of my sons and they did a great job, but my actual experience at church was mostly one of self-judgment and social anxiety.
One of my sons was also having a difficult time before church and I didn't handle it very well at all. I was reactive instead of trying to be understanding. I felt the wrath of his anger for that one, which sent me a bit deeper. During church I was thinking a lot about what a bad father I was, though my thoughts attacked me in other ways as well. I know I'm not a bad father, but those thoughts are very real and powerful. There were moments throughout the service, which I can objectively say was beautifully done, where I escaped the fog and enjoyed it. The music was great and the teen who gave the sermon was inspiring. But the negative thoughts kept coming back and after the service they kicked back in completely. I've learned that, at these moments, it is best for me to just get away. Of course, this isn't always an option. So I stuck it out and then headed home once I was able..
Now that I'm home and some time has passed I can already look at the experience with a little bit of perspective. It is very hard to be out in public and interact when I'm not thinking straight. Battling negative thoughts and feelings while I'm surrounded by people connecting with each other is hard. So is having conversations with people while my head is filled with negativity and heaviness. One thing I've improved on in these moments is being less judgmental of myself. I had the awareness today, even in the moment, that the thoughts aren't reality and they will pass. I was able to get myself home and start getting myself back together. I took a nap, went to yoga, and tonight I'm feeling a little bit better.
I still don't fully understand my depression and anxiety. It has a mind of its own, comes and goes when it pleases, and I can't always predict when and where it will emerge. Today was definitely a ride it out day. I went through the motions, I did the tiring work of challenging my negative thoughts, and I made it through the day. I don't like it, but it's part of living with depression. Oddly enough, I'd call it a successful day. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.
I was already feeling a bit off when I woke up this morning, it seems it's been building up for a week or so with the stress and just feeling not quite right. Being overly busy, which I have been for over a month, can trigger a mood like this. Especially once I have a bit of down time like I have had this weekend. Today at church was youth Sunday, which meant both of my sons would be participating in the service in one way or another. One was leading the prayer and the other was playing his electric bass with the band and reading scripture. It "should" have been a happy and proud moment for me, but when I'm feeling bad it doesn't really matter what's happening on the outside. I am proud of my sons and they did a great job, but my actual experience at church was mostly one of self-judgment and social anxiety.
One of my sons was also having a difficult time before church and I didn't handle it very well at all. I was reactive instead of trying to be understanding. I felt the wrath of his anger for that one, which sent me a bit deeper. During church I was thinking a lot about what a bad father I was, though my thoughts attacked me in other ways as well. I know I'm not a bad father, but those thoughts are very real and powerful. There were moments throughout the service, which I can objectively say was beautifully done, where I escaped the fog and enjoyed it. The music was great and the teen who gave the sermon was inspiring. But the negative thoughts kept coming back and after the service they kicked back in completely. I've learned that, at these moments, it is best for me to just get away. Of course, this isn't always an option. So I stuck it out and then headed home once I was able..
Now that I'm home and some time has passed I can already look at the experience with a little bit of perspective. It is very hard to be out in public and interact when I'm not thinking straight. Battling negative thoughts and feelings while I'm surrounded by people connecting with each other is hard. So is having conversations with people while my head is filled with negativity and heaviness. One thing I've improved on in these moments is being less judgmental of myself. I had the awareness today, even in the moment, that the thoughts aren't reality and they will pass. I was able to get myself home and start getting myself back together. I took a nap, went to yoga, and tonight I'm feeling a little bit better.
I still don't fully understand my depression and anxiety. It has a mind of its own, comes and goes when it pleases, and I can't always predict when and where it will emerge. Today was definitely a ride it out day. I went through the motions, I did the tiring work of challenging my negative thoughts, and I made it through the day. I don't like it, but it's part of living with depression. Oddly enough, I'd call it a successful day. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Why we Have to Speak Up
Around the fall of 2011 I decided I didn't want to keep my mental illness a secret anymore. I wanted to be open, I wanted the people in my life to know, and I was tired of living in the darkness. But I was afraid. I worried what others would think about me. I was still living in my own self-stigma. I lived on the fence for a couple of years and had opened up to people in my life, yet in many ways I was still keeping my mental illness hiding in the corner where I felt it belonged.
It's not in the corner anymore. I'm completely out in the open now about the fact that I live with depression and anxiety. It culminated two weeks ago when I spoke candidly in church about my experiences and the need to break the stigma. I know my talking and posting about it makes some people uncomfortable, but I really just don't care anymore. Not having to keep my two lives separate any longer has been a blessing for me, and I feel more than ever that I can be who I really am. And for a while that was enough. It's already not anymore.
I have a new feeling emerging as I go through this process. Anger. I'm angry about the stigma, about how we don't talk about mental illness, and how this leads to a world where shame and secrecy still surround issues of mental illness and suicide. A world where every year a million people worldwide take their own lives instead of seeking and receiving treatment, in large part because of this stigma. We should all be outraged! And yet we're not. Mental illness is treatable after all, and treatment saves lives. It's not enough anymore to just be comfortable in my own skin, I need to keep pushing to bring mental illness fully into the light and break the stigma.
I think about the fact that in the U.S., where I live, suicide is the second leading cause of death for people aged 15-24. I also think about the effect not talking about mental illness and suicide as a society has on our suicide rate, especially for our young people. By not talking about it we are giving our youth the message that it is a shameful thing not to be spoken of. I know there are other factors, but no wonder so many don't choose to seek treatment. No wonder so many choose to take their own lives. This is an illness, like cancer, that does not discriminate. It could happen to any of us. And for those of us who are parents, it could happen to our kids. We need to let them know that if they do begin to have symptoms that it is okay to talk about it and seek help.
Not too long ago I was approached by a youth who was struggling with depression. She knew she was depressed and wanted me to tell her how she can get help. What a wonderful thing that this youth would take the risk to talk to me and take steps to get help. However, their parents have pushed the issue aside when she has tried to bring it up. They have also made comments like, "nobody in this family is depressed" since she has been struggling. That's shame, that's stigma! And sadly, it intensifies this person's feeling that there is something wrong with them. It's an awful message to give a youth, and it's not true. What is this person supposed to do now? They are dependent upon their parents to get help. How can they get help if their parents won't even acknowledge a problem exists? This is why we have to speak up. This is why I will continue to push awareness of mental illness. This is why I will not stop talking about it! I implore you to do the same. There are many lives at stake, and we can no longer stay silent.
It's not in the corner anymore. I'm completely out in the open now about the fact that I live with depression and anxiety. It culminated two weeks ago when I spoke candidly in church about my experiences and the need to break the stigma. I know my talking and posting about it makes some people uncomfortable, but I really just don't care anymore. Not having to keep my two lives separate any longer has been a blessing for me, and I feel more than ever that I can be who I really am. And for a while that was enough. It's already not anymore.
I have a new feeling emerging as I go through this process. Anger. I'm angry about the stigma, about how we don't talk about mental illness, and how this leads to a world where shame and secrecy still surround issues of mental illness and suicide. A world where every year a million people worldwide take their own lives instead of seeking and receiving treatment, in large part because of this stigma. We should all be outraged! And yet we're not. Mental illness is treatable after all, and treatment saves lives. It's not enough anymore to just be comfortable in my own skin, I need to keep pushing to bring mental illness fully into the light and break the stigma.
I think about the fact that in the U.S., where I live, suicide is the second leading cause of death for people aged 15-24. I also think about the effect not talking about mental illness and suicide as a society has on our suicide rate, especially for our young people. By not talking about it we are giving our youth the message that it is a shameful thing not to be spoken of. I know there are other factors, but no wonder so many don't choose to seek treatment. No wonder so many choose to take their own lives. This is an illness, like cancer, that does not discriminate. It could happen to any of us. And for those of us who are parents, it could happen to our kids. We need to let them know that if they do begin to have symptoms that it is okay to talk about it and seek help.
Not too long ago I was approached by a youth who was struggling with depression. She knew she was depressed and wanted me to tell her how she can get help. What a wonderful thing that this youth would take the risk to talk to me and take steps to get help. However, their parents have pushed the issue aside when she has tried to bring it up. They have also made comments like, "nobody in this family is depressed" since she has been struggling. That's shame, that's stigma! And sadly, it intensifies this person's feeling that there is something wrong with them. It's an awful message to give a youth, and it's not true. What is this person supposed to do now? They are dependent upon their parents to get help. How can they get help if their parents won't even acknowledge a problem exists? This is why we have to speak up. This is why I will continue to push awareness of mental illness. This is why I will not stop talking about it! I implore you to do the same. There are many lives at stake, and we can no longer stay silent.
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
There's no shame in having a mental illness
Sunday was not the end of my journey, but it was certainly a momentous step on my road to recovery and self-acceptance. I spoke at church about my life with depression, I was the guest speaker in place of the sermon. I was honest and open about what it's like to live with depression, the stigma, and how much work needs to be done to raise awareness. I have long envisioned my journey as a path from self-hatred to self-love and acceptance. I'm not there and will continue this journey throughout my life, but I can see how far I've come.
In my teens and early twenties I was filled with shame. It encompassed every aspect of my life and completely clouded the way I viewed myself. It affected all of my relationships. At my core I felt there was something wrong with me. I knew I wanted to be authentic and be myself, but I saw myself as shameful and unlovable so I felt the need to pretend to be something I wasn't. I hid my real feelings from the rest of the world. Despite going through a lot of therapy and really getting myself to a better place, I basically lived this way until about 3 years ago. That's when I began the process of "coming out" following my worst and scariest episode of depression. Sharing my story in public was in many ways the culmination of that process. By speaking at church I did something I've been wanting to do at some level for the last 25 years.
I told the truth. I got up in front of about 150-200 people at church and for 15 minutes I told them the truth about my experience of living with depression and anxiety. It seems like such a simple concept. But when it comes to depression and anxiety, telling the truth publicly is not easy or common. How freeing it was to be able to just get up in front of people and speak honestly about my experience with having a mental illness. As I spoke I could see that many people in the pews were crying a bit. My wife and kids were there, my parents, some of my closest friends, and a number of people who I have known for about 20 years who didn't know this about me. I shared a lot of details, but my basic message is that I have a mental illness, I lived in the darkness with it for nearly 25 years due to shame, and now I live in the open with it and have become a mental health advocate. All the different work I have done over the years led me to a point where I was comfortable enough to speak about it publicly. When I was finished people clapped, and we are not a church where clapping really happens. They clapped for a long time. I was so humbled by this, I never thought this day would come and then to have such a positive response was wonderful!
It was clear that sharing my story had an effect on people. I had a lot of people come up to me after the service to talk to me or just offer a supportive hug. Some "came out" to me, others asked how they go about getting help, many shared about their family members who have suffered or still do suffer. I realized yet again that we are all affected by mental illness, either directly or indirectly. People may not accept it or talk about it, but it's there. It seems to be everywhere.
I have only begun to process what all of this means to me. I do know I really liked it and would welcome other opportunities to share my story publicly. I think my biggest takeaway so far is the power of simply talking about mental illness honestly. People have been telling me since I started blogging and being open about depression that I am brave and courageous. I don't know about that, but the fact that they think I am courageous brings light to the level of taboo and stigma that still surrounds this topic. So many, and often with good reason, suffer in shame and isolation. People are still told by parents, partners, and friends to "just get over it" or "stop feeling sorry for yourself". I know this because some have confided this in me over the last several months. This makes me so sad. We need to talk about it, and people need to understand that it is an illness. It actually is a matter of life and death Mental illness is not a sign of weakness, it's not a character flaw, and it's not your fault if you are suffering! I have hope that change is happening. There are many of us coming out in the open and letting the world know there is no shame in having a mental illness. I finally know I am not alone, and that's a feeling I want everyone who suffers from a mental illness to be able to experience!
In my teens and early twenties I was filled with shame. It encompassed every aspect of my life and completely clouded the way I viewed myself. It affected all of my relationships. At my core I felt there was something wrong with me. I knew I wanted to be authentic and be myself, but I saw myself as shameful and unlovable so I felt the need to pretend to be something I wasn't. I hid my real feelings from the rest of the world. Despite going through a lot of therapy and really getting myself to a better place, I basically lived this way until about 3 years ago. That's when I began the process of "coming out" following my worst and scariest episode of depression. Sharing my story in public was in many ways the culmination of that process. By speaking at church I did something I've been wanting to do at some level for the last 25 years.
I told the truth. I got up in front of about 150-200 people at church and for 15 minutes I told them the truth about my experience of living with depression and anxiety. It seems like such a simple concept. But when it comes to depression and anxiety, telling the truth publicly is not easy or common. How freeing it was to be able to just get up in front of people and speak honestly about my experience with having a mental illness. As I spoke I could see that many people in the pews were crying a bit. My wife and kids were there, my parents, some of my closest friends, and a number of people who I have known for about 20 years who didn't know this about me. I shared a lot of details, but my basic message is that I have a mental illness, I lived in the darkness with it for nearly 25 years due to shame, and now I live in the open with it and have become a mental health advocate. All the different work I have done over the years led me to a point where I was comfortable enough to speak about it publicly. When I was finished people clapped, and we are not a church where clapping really happens. They clapped for a long time. I was so humbled by this, I never thought this day would come and then to have such a positive response was wonderful!
It was clear that sharing my story had an effect on people. I had a lot of people come up to me after the service to talk to me or just offer a supportive hug. Some "came out" to me, others asked how they go about getting help, many shared about their family members who have suffered or still do suffer. I realized yet again that we are all affected by mental illness, either directly or indirectly. People may not accept it or talk about it, but it's there. It seems to be everywhere.
I have only begun to process what all of this means to me. I do know I really liked it and would welcome other opportunities to share my story publicly. I think my biggest takeaway so far is the power of simply talking about mental illness honestly. People have been telling me since I started blogging and being open about depression that I am brave and courageous. I don't know about that, but the fact that they think I am courageous brings light to the level of taboo and stigma that still surrounds this topic. So many, and often with good reason, suffer in shame and isolation. People are still told by parents, partners, and friends to "just get over it" or "stop feeling sorry for yourself". I know this because some have confided this in me over the last several months. This makes me so sad. We need to talk about it, and people need to understand that it is an illness. It actually is a matter of life and death Mental illness is not a sign of weakness, it's not a character flaw, and it's not your fault if you are suffering! I have hope that change is happening. There are many of us coming out in the open and letting the world know there is no shame in having a mental illness. I finally know I am not alone, and that's a feeling I want everyone who suffers from a mental illness to be able to experience!
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