A few weeks ago I sat at a table with my CASA team as we were told by the judge that our request for therapy for the child we represented was denied. The judge made it clear that he didn’t really believe in therapy. That her problems would go away as long as she had a sturdy, loving adult in her life. I sat there, perplexed, I looked over the notes we gave him to read. She was diagnosed with 5 different disorders by a licensed therapist…how could he deny this request?
It was a bad call. I knew it then. After we were dismissed I angrily vented to my supervisor, who was also disappointed in the outcome.
I thought the rest of that day about how stupid it is that we, as a society, let this happen. So many people treat mental health as if it is not as harmful as any other physical disorder. But it is! We convince ourselves we can fix it ourselves. We tell children “Your just going through something. You’ll be fine”. We underfunded programs that assist the mentally ill, then we act horrified when mentally ill people hurt themselves or others. I’m so sick of this being an issue being swept under the rug. Your mental health should not be a taboo subject.
I left court that day defeated. I felt powerless. I felt mad. Then I took those feelings, I came up with this idea of a good deed.
The deed
29. Spread mental health awareness.
Today I’m going to share with you my own story. I’ll also provide links for mental health organizations and professionals in St. Louis if you want to seek help for yourself or a loved one. Tomorrow I’ll share with you another person’s story, then another the following day. These people were gracious enough to help and support me in this little project. (A million and a half thank yous to you guys.)
Because it’s ok to talk about it. It’s ok to own it, as long as it doesn’t own you.
My story
When people ask how long I’ve had stomach problems I say fifth grade. When people ask how long I’ve had a problem with anxiety, it’s no coincidence that the answer is the same.
So what happened in fifth grade? Looking back on it, it seems stupid. Like something most people would brush off and move on from…but I’m not most people. I had a “friend” who was an emotional terrorist. I began getting nauseated at the idea of going to school and seeing her. I would throw up, get dizzy, cry hysterically…my mom didn’t know what to do. I was taken to a specialist. I don’t remember what it was he “diagnosed” me with but we left with a prescription for stomach aches that I hardly took. Sometimes I felt like it helped…othertimes I pretended it did.
But what people don’t tell you about anxiety disorders like mine is that most of the time you don’t “grow out of them”, or “get all better”. Once it started, it never really stopped for me. I have had good years with few triggers and bad years with big triggers, but anxiety is always there in varying magnitudes. I tell people that it’s like a button being pressed in my stomach. And I feel half-insane saying that, I can really feel exactly where the button is. Upper-middle stomach, right below the ribs. When I’m anxious it gets pressed and like a snap of the fingers, I am sick.
Then at the end of my freshman year of college, my grandmother passed away. I cared about her deeply. My life shortly after her death was a very dark place. (This is another story entirely, if you want to hear about it, scroll down to “My Connection With Pancreatic Cancer”) I stopped going out and my grades were…not so great. I made the decision to see a grief therapist. I visited her twice, both times I balled…she listened…and I left not feeling much better. I didn’t see her again. In retrospect, I see now that I wanted her to fix me. I wanted her to make the grieving stop, but in reality, the only thing that makes the loss of a loved one better is time. And you can’t skip that step.
While therapy didn’t do much for me, it was important that I made that decision for myself. It was the first time I recognized, on my own, that I needed help and reached out for it. It was terrifying to ask for help. When you’re in a mind-set like I was, you want so badly to just fix it yourself. But sometimes you just can’t. Once I realized that, I was able to make healthy decisions for myself.
Two years ago I was having frequent anxiety once again, When it became unmanageable I looked up some names and called a doctor. He took the time to talk to me about how I was feeling (although it was fairly clear because I cried for the better portion of my visit) and we had a two-way conversation about what action to take (my doctor is the real deal).
Today, I’m someone who has an awful lot to be thankful for. I already have a lot of things I’ve always wanted for myself. A pretty house, a loving husband, an adorable dog, good friends and income that allows me to life a comfortable lifestyle. I also have a general anxiety disorder that still rears its ugly head on any given day. But it’s manageable because I was able to recognize my unhappiness and reached out for help. I’m on medication that stops that button from being pushed. It doesn’t stop me from feeling…it just stops me from feeling hopeless.
And I shared this long-winded story with you because I want you to know that you can ask for help too. Your health in any capacity should never be a taboo subject; it’s too important. If you feel you need a little help, I encourage you to please seek a therapist, doctor, or at least talk to a trusted loved one about how you feeling. You are not alone in this. It’s not weird or wrong or embarrassing. It’s just another thing life throws at you, but how you choose to handle it will affect the rest of your life, take it seriously.
If you don’t want to talk to someone you know and you are skeptical about seeking professional help. I’ll help. Email me at: libby.bishop1@gmail.com
(Full disclosure: Not a therapist. Can’t diagnose you. May not have all the answers. But I’ll listen and support you.)
Resources
Find some help in the St. Louis area: http://www.startherestl.org/mental-health.html
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Other good deeds-
30. ALS Ice Bucket Challenge
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