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It’s #WorldSuicidePreventionDay 
today, and everywhere we look is encouraging us to speak up when we’re struggling.
But here’s why seeking help for mental illness is difficult, and what you can do to help beyond tweeting a hashtag. (A thread).
today, and everywhere we look is encouraging us to speak up when we’re struggling.But here’s why seeking help for mental illness is difficult, and what you can do to help beyond tweeting a hashtag. (A thread).
For some reason, any mental health social media campaign makes me anxious. It brings up bad memories. It’s hard to read tweet after tweet telling people with mental health issues to speak out, because it’s not easy.
It’s also a reminder of all the times I have spoken out, and received minimal help and support.
I’m well aware that these campaigns are important and helpful - I’m not disputing that at all. But I think it’s important to listen to people with mental health issues when we say it can be uncomfortable and can seem empty.
It’s so easy to tweet telling people to speak out, but we need to think about what often happens when we do, and why the response is problematic - making these awareness tweets even more unhelpful.
So many of us with mental illness - regardless of the condition - have experienced negative reactions when speaking out. We’re told to get over it. To man up. To woman up. That we’re lazy. That we’re crazy. That we’re making excuses.
That we’re being selfish. That we’re too much to handle. That we’re becoming a burden. That we’re too intense. That we are problematic. That we are toxic. That we are dramatic. Overreacting. Lying.
We’re made to feel bad when anxiety makes us cancel plans. When getting out of bed is hard due to depression. When OCD is making us late because we can’t stop running back to the house to check the door is locked.
When we don’t seem interested, but really our minds are consumed with intrusive thoughts. When BPD makes us scared we’re going to be abandoned. When something that seems small hurts us and makes us emotional.
When we wake up in the night screaming from nightmares. When bipolar disorder keeps us up for days because we’re too manic to sleep. When we ask reassurance that we’re not going to die. That we’re not being annoying. That they still love us.
It’s not just that many of us are scared to speak out, it’s that we’ve already done it and been shut down. Made to feel stupid. Made to feel like a burden. And so we suffer in silence.
It’s not just other people not understanding, but mental health professionals, too. You can go to A&E & tell them you’re suicidal but so often you’re not taken seriously. Told to go home and ring your GP. Put under the crisis team for a while with no follow-up. (I’ve been there)
You can apply for therapy but be put on a waiting list for months, left to get worse and worse, expected to rely on medication or to seek private therapy for the time being - which for so many of us, is just too expensive.
And then there comes rejection. Being ‘too complex’ for certain therapies. I’ve been denied CBT that I need for my OCD twice because I have bipolar disorder. I was *told* I had to go private. I pay £70 a week, and that’s cheap.
We also deal with misdiagnosis and wrong treatments. With professionals not listening to us when we say we think they’re wrong even though your diagnosis doesn’t feel right. And trying to get a second opinion? Ha!
Some of us are lucky to be seen. My bipolar disorder usually means I’m a high priority but there is no help for my OCD or my BPD.
I know this isn’t the fault of the mental health services - it’s the fault of the government and the fact the mental health services are the most underfunded sector of the NHS.
So yes, the hashtags are helpful, but it can just seem like another movement. Another trend with no change. And that’s what we need: change.
If you’re telling people to speak out, be willing to listen. Stop getting mad at your anxious friends for cancelling. You’re entitled to your boundaries, but if you want people to open up, be willing to let them know you’re there.
Help them look for help. Offer to call a helpline with them. Text them when you see a tweet that you’re worried about. Sit with them in A&E. Let them cry on your shoulder.
If we’re going to use mental health hashtags, let’s make sure there is substance in them. Let’s not tweet empty words. Let’s make actual change, so that those of us who haven’t, or who have spoken up before don’t feel scared to do so.
While we can’t force better funding for the mental health services, we can do our bit to make sure things easier for the ones we love. And let me tell you: Even just making life easier for us can be life-saving.
