The Big Share: It's Time To Talk



For anyone who's read my blog, it's probably no surprise that I have experienced mental health problems. These days I'm pretty open about most of it - the first time I "outed" myself was for Eating Disorder Awareness Week 2012 and since then, there are regular references to my experiences of mental illness.

I sit here today writing this blog as someone who has experienced mental illness. I do not call myself a "sufferer", I would not choose to have been ill however, it has taught me a lot and made me the person I am today. To me, it is just another experience. On the whole, I would view myself as someone living in recovery as opposed to a few years ago, when my life felt consumed by depression and disordered eating. My life these days is full of love and laughter and friendship but also still a heck of a lot of tough times. Part of my recovery is accepting that life is not easy. Recovery doesn't mean my life is okay now - it means I've learned to deal with the tough stuff in a healthier way.

We all have stuff. And we all have different ways of dealing with that stuff. I just happened to learn some pretty negative ways to cope with anxiety, stress, anger, upset and even happiness. I essentially wasn't able to process any extremes of emotion in a positive way. Being ashamed of that fact just created a cycle of worsening mental health. 1 in 4 people will experience a mental health problem this year. That is a phenomenal amount and includes many of you reading this. Whether it's depression, PTSD, bipolar, schizophrenia, OCD, disordered eating or any of the many other mental illnesses out there, 1 in 4 of us will be affected this year.

So, if 1/4 of us are affected each year? Why the stigma? Why are we still so afraid to talk about it?

I am blessed, I have understanding friends and have never (yet) faced discrimination due to my mental health history. Yet, so many people are scared to speak out about their struggles due to reactions they've had in the past. For me, a massive part of my recovery was removing the secrecy - it's a lot harder to lie in bed being miserable if someone knows you're there. It's a lot harder to throw up after every meal if people know that's your intention.

For me, it was a lot harder to self destruct when I knew people cared.

But how are we supposed to know that we're cared about if we don't mention when we're struggling? I'm not saying there's a simple fix for everyone and that just by talking about my mental illness I got better but it certainly helped. To no longer feel ashamed and like I was living a double life. To be able to be honest with a few people when the going got tough. To know I was loved and that there were people who cared that I was hurting.

And most of all?

When speaking out about my struggles, an astonishing amount of people turned around and said me too.

You are not alone.

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