Mental illness is pervasive. It affects, disrupts and
occasionally breaks up families. Its effects can be devastating, but they are
quietly so. Such is the stigma of mental illness that few families admit to
having a loved one who is suffering. They batten down the hatches, hunker down,
and hide, concealing and coping, quietly away from the world. They go to work,
exhausted, and don’t tell their colleagues that last week their daughter took
some pills; they hide their anger at a bipolar son who, in his early twenties,
still bolts himself in his room; they hide
their fear that one day the police car they have called to help may just end up
taking their loved one away. They are very, very afraid, and very, very lonely.
It is a terrifyingly isolating condition. Few people want to be around someone who is struggling– can they catch it? Is it contagious? Sometimes, they don’t understand why they can’t snap out of it. Can’t get themselves together. They pull away, stop calling, stop inviting out. Or they feel stupid and belittled because they don’t know what to say. And occasionally they blame, the person, the family.
What few offer, and that people with a mental health condition especially need, is compassion. My mum isn’t defined by her anxiety; she’s a person. Though she’s not the version that I grew up with, my mum is still there. She is still someone, who is equally as hurt, lost and confused. And sometimes we forget that. I forget that.
Having a mental health condition can sadly mean loosing people. The director of Time To Change, Sue Baker, recently wrote in The Huffington Post about exactly this, quoting some disheartening statistics: 75% of people with a mental illness have reported losing friendships, while 42% of people feel that they don’t know enough to talk to someone experiencing a mental health issue, and 1 in 5 think they may actually make it worse. And yet, the same study shows that 62% of adults in the UK know someone with a mental health problem. That’s a lot of talking that’s not happening.
As Baker says: “This shows that most people will have a friend experiencing a mental health problem who might need their support. Starting a conversation could make a big difference to their lives. Although it might feel awkward or you might not fully understand mental health problems, don't let that stop you from just asking 'how they are'. Those three words could really help.
You don't have to be an expert to start a conversation about mental health. Being a supportive friend can include small gestures like sending a quick text or email, or an invitation to meet up.”
Baker’s article reminded me of a scene in Elyn Sak’s book The center cannot hold: Responding to her early diagnosis of cancer, she writes:
‘My parents came as soon as they could. Friends and colleagues rallied around as well. And many people sent flowers. When Steve arrived, he looked over my shoulder past our embrace, to my dining room table, and remarked on the many bouquets of flowers sitting there. When you have cancer, people send flowers; when you lose your mind, they don’t.’
We tend to leave those alone who are struggling, believing that it’s a private and personal issue. But sometimes it is exactly at this moment that you need you to reach out. To connect, rather than abandon. Three words: how are you?