Likelihood that you will suffer from a mental disorder at some point in your life: 1 in 5
In the years following my own struggles with depression, I would occasionally come across a brave soul who would tell me about their own issues. Only in conversation with a kindred spirit did I feel safe revealing my own story. Years later, after joining the public service, if the kindred spirit was a co-worker, I would often still hold back for fear of my employer finding out my secret.
Projected rank of mental illness in terms of "disease burden" by the year 2020: #1.
Percentage of work days lost in Canada accounted for by mental illness: 30%.
Rank of mental illness in terms of medical disability claims: #1.
Conspiracies are funny that way. They can work for you, or work against you. In those earlier days, I conspired to keep my secrets, only sharing them with those very few people in my life who could "relate" to them. That conspiracy slowed down my recovery for years.
Now, I am hoping to join a much larger conspiracy: one of cooperation. I want to join with Daniel Alfredsson, Clara Hughes and Luke Richardson in their conspiracy to bring this issue into the healing light of day. I'm ready to talk.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
The silent conspiracy
So who were we hiding from, Megan and I? For starters, I hid from my father. I was damned if I was going to admit to him that I was having a hard time coping. I was certain he would sneer and tell me to "belt up". Of course, I was wrong -- he would have been supportive -- but I couldn't see that at the time.
Media reports covering teen -- or any -- suicides were extremely rare. It's only recently that I've discovered that there was an actual editorial policy on this. Reporters were told not to cover suicides, as it was thought media coverage would encourage copycat behaviour. The result, however, was to deepen our sense of isolation -- we continued to feel alone and ashamed.
Suicide is one of the leading causes of death in both men and women from adolescence to middle age.
If you can't tell a parent, who can you tell? When I had my "dark time" in the '90s, I was lucky enough to have an excellent family doctor. He recognized quickly what I was going through, and in addition to putting me on Prozac, he became my therapist. We set up a weekly appointment during which we would simply sit and talk for awhile. Slowly, I began to feel less isolated, and to regain some sense of control in my life. Prozac also helped me break the cycle of mood swings in which I had found myself drowning.
As I gained back some strength and confidence, I quietly re-entered my life. As a self-employed person at the time, I didn't have to face "re-entry" into the work force in the sense of having to step back into an office setting. But I did find it challenging to manage public gatherings, social events and the like in those first months back -- I was certain people could tell how alien I felt, and discover my secret.
next: kindred spirits
Media reports covering teen -- or any -- suicides were extremely rare. It's only recently that I've discovered that there was an actual editorial policy on this. Reporters were told not to cover suicides, as it was thought media coverage would encourage copycat behaviour. The result, however, was to deepen our sense of isolation -- we continued to feel alone and ashamed.
Suicide is one of the leading causes of death in both men and women from adolescence to middle age.
If you can't tell a parent, who can you tell? When I had my "dark time" in the '90s, I was lucky enough to have an excellent family doctor. He recognized quickly what I was going through, and in addition to putting me on Prozac, he became my therapist. We set up a weekly appointment during which we would simply sit and talk for awhile. Slowly, I began to feel less isolated, and to regain some sense of control in my life. Prozac also helped me break the cycle of mood swings in which I had found myself drowning.
As I gained back some strength and confidence, I quietly re-entered my life. As a self-employed person at the time, I didn't have to face "re-entry" into the work force in the sense of having to step back into an office setting. But I did find it challenging to manage public gatherings, social events and the like in those first months back -- I was certain people could tell how alien I felt, and discover my secret.
next: kindred spirits
Friday, February 11, 2011
You can't fight genetics!
In retrospect, I can see clearly now that there is a strong thread of mental illness running through my family. My father had a brother who spent a great deal of time institutionalized to deal with manic depression. A cousin of mine openly battled depression and substance abuse issues (a very common combination) for many years, before he lost his battle last year at the age of 46.
Mental illnesses are biologically based brain disorders. They cannot be overcome through "will power" and are not related to a person's "character" or intelligence.
After the end of a difficult relationship, the death of my mother, and the loss of a job, I myself ended up spending two years on anti-depressants back in the early '90s.
Even as I write those last words, I worry about revealing that information publicly. While my own battle with depression wasn't as intense as those waged by my friends and family members, I still felt ashamed that "I couldn't cope" on my own. It was only to my best friend Megan that I felt comfortable revealing my "secret". Little did I know, she was fighting her own battles. And even though we were "there for each other" as we struggled with our sadnesses throughout our 20s and 30s, I was never to know how she'd attempted to take her life on three separate occasions before she finally accomplished it at the age of 45.
For each completed suicide there are 100 attempts, and over 23,000 Canadians are hospitalized each year for a suicide attempt.
In her suicide note, my friend said "this was inevitable". How I wish I had her here with me now to argue that point...
next week: The silent conspiracy
Mental illnesses are biologically based brain disorders. They cannot be overcome through "will power" and are not related to a person's "character" or intelligence.
After the end of a difficult relationship, the death of my mother, and the loss of a job, I myself ended up spending two years on anti-depressants back in the early '90s.
Even as I write those last words, I worry about revealing that information publicly. While my own battle with depression wasn't as intense as those waged by my friends and family members, I still felt ashamed that "I couldn't cope" on my own. It was only to my best friend Megan that I felt comfortable revealing my "secret". Little did I know, she was fighting her own battles. And even though we were "there for each other" as we struggled with our sadnesses throughout our 20s and 30s, I was never to know how she'd attempted to take her life on three separate occasions before she finally accomplished it at the age of 45.
For each completed suicide there are 100 attempts, and over 23,000 Canadians are hospitalized each year for a suicide attempt.
In her suicide note, my friend said "this was inevitable". How I wish I had her here with me now to argue that point...
next week: The silent conspiracy
Monday, February 07, 2011
Let's Talk
Almost one half of those who feel they have suffered from depression or anxiety have never gone to see a doctor about this problem.
This week sees the launch of two separate campaigns focused on mental health. Canadian Olympian Clara Hughes invites us to join Bell Canada’s Let’s Talk campaign. And Ottawa Senators Assistant Coach Luke Richardson launches Do It For Daron, a youth mental health initiative in honour of his daughter, whose death by suicide at 14 stunned us last November.
They are inviting us to join an important conversation, one that has for too long been considered taboo: they want us to open up and talk about mental health.
I welcome their initiative. For some time now, I have been struggling to find a way to dig into this issue. In addition to my own reasons (about which I will write more in future posts), the issue is especially personal for me: just over two years ago, my best friend Megan killed herself. Although we were close friends all of our lives, I was unaware that this was her fourth suicide attempt. For some reason, she didn't ever want me to know when things got bad.
Any therapist would tell me that the guilt I still carry over her death is "normal". But even in those initial days of shock and sadness, when I could barely dress myself let alone think straight, I knew that I had to find a way to extract some kind of meaning from her death. I knew that it had to be a catalyst in my life, inspiring me to take on this very difficult issue and somehow find a way to become an agent of change. But I didn’t know how. And I certainly wasn’t ready.
Not long after Megan’s death in 2008, Ottawa Senator Daniel Alfredsson launched “you know who I am”, as a way of showing support for people like his sister, who suffers from an anxiety disorder.
In his blog, Daniel was very clear about his reason for getting involved: "This is a way I can demonstrate my love for my sister and encourage people to get help when they need it without fear of shame."
When he launched "you know who I am", I wanted to hug him. But I still wasn't ready to go public with my story. I had to wait until the crying stopped. That alone has taken me more than two years -- and frankly, were it not for this recent rising tide of encouragement coming from Bell and others, I might never have been ready.
up next: you can't fight genetics!
This week sees the launch of two separate campaigns focused on mental health. Canadian Olympian Clara Hughes invites us to join Bell Canada’s Let’s Talk campaign. And Ottawa Senators Assistant Coach Luke Richardson launches Do It For Daron, a youth mental health initiative in honour of his daughter, whose death by suicide at 14 stunned us last November.
They are inviting us to join an important conversation, one that has for too long been considered taboo: they want us to open up and talk about mental health.
I welcome their initiative. For some time now, I have been struggling to find a way to dig into this issue. In addition to my own reasons (about which I will write more in future posts), the issue is especially personal for me: just over two years ago, my best friend Megan killed herself. Although we were close friends all of our lives, I was unaware that this was her fourth suicide attempt. For some reason, she didn't ever want me to know when things got bad.
Any therapist would tell me that the guilt I still carry over her death is "normal". But even in those initial days of shock and sadness, when I could barely dress myself let alone think straight, I knew that I had to find a way to extract some kind of meaning from her death. I knew that it had to be a catalyst in my life, inspiring me to take on this very difficult issue and somehow find a way to become an agent of change. But I didn’t know how. And I certainly wasn’t ready.
Not long after Megan’s death in 2008, Ottawa Senator Daniel Alfredsson launched “you know who I am”, as a way of showing support for people like his sister, who suffers from an anxiety disorder.
In his blog, Daniel was very clear about his reason for getting involved: "This is a way I can demonstrate my love for my sister and encourage people to get help when they need it without fear of shame."
When he launched "you know who I am", I wanted to hug him. But I still wasn't ready to go public with my story. I had to wait until the crying stopped. That alone has taken me more than two years -- and frankly, were it not for this recent rising tide of encouragement coming from Bell and others, I might never have been ready.
up next: you can't fight genetics!
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