Tag: stigma

Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

Mad Liberation: The Missing Piece of The Puzzle

Posted on by Millie :)

There are a lot of social movements now that are gaining awareness and support in new ways thanks to the global communication the internet has made possible. For example, feminism, Black Lives Matter, climate activism etc. And it’s very encouraging to see that more people are becoming aware of how these all link together too. There’s still a very very long way to go, that’s for sure, and in some ways the enormity can seem overwhelming. But there’s certainly movement happening in these movements, and a lot of passion. But what about mental health? 

When we think of the mental health movement we think of mental health awareness. And for the vast majority of people what they come in contact with under ‘mental health awareness’ is hotline numbers, slogans telling people to reach out, self care tips, and really very repetitive, surface level approaches. The general public does not seem to be aware of the deep issues and abuses in psychiatry, how we view mental health, and how it really impacts all of our lives. In all the fighting for a better future, mad liberation is overlooked, underestimated, misunderstood, or ignored. And that’s damaging for all of us. We cannot be fighting for racial justice, trans rights, and human rights without mad liberation. And yet so few people seem to be aware of it – in fact many people seem scared to approach the topic, which just shows how deeply the stigma and ignorance runs. Maybe, just maybe, mad liberation is the missing piece in the social justice fight. 

Take for example the language we use to describe other social movements – you are a climate activist, a civil rights activist, a human rights activist, but you are a mental health advocate. That’s not to say advocate is a bad word, it is absolutely not, and it’s a badge I’m proud to wear. But to call myself a mental health ‘activist’ sounds wrong. Why? Is it because advocacy feels more acceptable? Perhaps it connotes simply raising awareness within the status quo, continuing to adhere to systems already in place rather than radically opposing them and fighting for change. Maybe not, but I certainly think there’s something in the language.

 Furthermore, why is it always mental health advocate, and rarely mental illness advocate, or madness advocate? For me that sums up the major narrative surrounding the mental health movement, because it focuses on the palatable part that challenges less assumptions and less people, that appeals to everyone. Everyone has mental health, so everyone should care about mental health! Yeah – that’s not wrong. But a lot of people are deemed mentally ill. A lot of people deal with the consequences of madness in this society their entire lives. And the narrative focusing on the easily digestible, easily implemented parts of mental health awareness leaves them behind yet again. It silences and harms them. 

Psychiatry uses mental illness to uphold societal values. Always has. That’s why drapetomania was a proposed mental illness to explain why slaves wanted to escape slavery. That’s why being gay was classified as a mental illness until 1990, and being trans was classified a mental illness until 2019. And that is why one of the major diagnostic criteria for mental illness nowadays is disruption to a person’s ability to work – productivity and fitting into expectations of normality are societal values. 

But people are very rarely encouraged to consider this. They are encouraged to be aware of the signs of common mental illness in the context of deriving from the expectations placed upon us, and recovery in the context of making people be productive citizens again. The common mental health awareness narrative traps us. It does not allow us to redefine healing, to discover the socioeconomic factors in wellbeing, to find community, or to change the pace at which we live. It does not allow us to think about the deeper questions of why, and how can this really be better. 

But what would happen if we questioned? We would hear the voices of psychiatric survivors shouting about the abuse they have endured in the mental health system. We would discover how mental illness and criminalisation are deeply intertwined, and perhaps discover how to create true justice by supporting and liberating people in new ways. We would start to ask, what would happen if we didn’t sedate people into the same reality, but rather found ways to help people incorporate their own reality into their world? We would find new ways of sharing resources, kindness, connection, and changing the pace at which we live. We would find new language to define our human experience. We would free all of us to actually consider what happiness entails. Finally, we would find the link to all the other socioeconomic problems we are facing today, and in doing so find new solutions and progress towards all of them. 

We need to be kind and we need to be supportive, but we don’t need to be afraid to really ask questions about mental health, its presentation, and the treatment of madness as it is. Mental health activism is needed. Mad liberation is needed. But a deep held belief that mad people need protecting – or being protected from – has too often tried to stifle the missing piece in social justice movements. Mad people deserve to be heard, believed, and treated with respect and dignity in social action spaces just like anyone else. 

So I ask the question – is mad liberation the missing piece? 

Maybe. I don’t know for sure. But I think it might be. I certainly think solidarity between oppressed, hurting, and caring people is necessary for progress. We won’t fix everything; we will get things wrong. But as long as we keep questioning, and keep learning, we can make a difference. It’s worth a try at the very least.

Posted in Mental Health, Personal Growth

Fear of Going Crazy

Posted on by Millie :)

Two years ago a group of young changemakers, including myself, came together for a discussion. We decided that we would all come dressed as our worst fears. There was one person dressed as a bat, another as a spider; one came as the idea of losing love. I came dressed as the fear of losing my mind. As someone with chronic mental illness, it’s not a fear that feels far away – it’s not a distant possibility that one day I’ll get dementia. It feels very real, very possible, and very close. And I wanted to talk about that here today, because it’s a part of my mental health experience that I haven’t seen reflected in many places.

Me dressed as the fear of losing my mind

I think many people with experience of mental health issues, or big emotions, can relate to the feeling that it’s never going to get better. In times of depression, grief, and heartache our ability to truly envision a future and see the fullness of life becomes warped. It’s a terrible phenomenon that unfortunately has taken many lives. I’ve experienced it myself many times and it is terrifying. But the feeling of going crazy, the fear of it, is something different for me. In intense moments it takes the same inability to see things getting changing and redirects them towards a feeling of a loss of self and loss of reality.

As a mentally ill person, despite owning the idea of being ‘mad’ with great pride, I feel I am constantly running from the idea of being seen as crazy. Which is almost certainly related to the stigma around certain symptoms – namely the less pretty ones, mania, psychosis, irritability, flight of ideas etc; the stigma around the idea of being ‘crazy’. My mental health difficulties are a huge part of my identity – by my own choosing – and yet I still feel a need to mask how they really are lest I lose control over the narrative of my own mental illness. So that’s a part of this fear, it’s not really a fear of losing my mind, but a fear of being seen as crazy and losing autonomy and connection because of it. A deep fear of being misunderstood and unseen.

Yet the real, gnawing fear for me is internal. It is a fear that one day I will become irreversibly changed; I will lose all knowledge of our shared reality and slip entirely into a different one; I will enter an episode and never come out; I will lose myself. It’s ridiculous really, because we are constantly irreversibly changed, and our idea of self is constantly changing. Most likely the fear is rooted in internalised ableism compounded by my experiences of madness.

As Carrie Fisher once said ‘once you’ve lost your mind you don’t know it’s missing’ (that wording may not be right, but that’s the gist). So really the end result that I’m so scared of would actually just be a different way of being. Nothing inherently better or worse about it for me. So what am I really afraid of? Other people’s judgments. A lack of autonomy and care. And perhaps ‘going crazy’ and then reemerging, as would most likely happen in all the scenarios I imagine. Because I have actually lost myself before – when I was drinking I lost sight of who I was. That process of reemerging is deeply, deeply painful so maybe that’s what I’m afraid of. And finally, when I am not in the intense whirlwind of feeling like I’m going crazy, I think what I fear the most is being in that whirlwind again.

Let me attempt to illustrate why the whirlwind is so terrifying. You see, in that place I am two versions of myself at the same time – trapped in a paradox being ripped apart with searing force. One version of myself is the whirlwind. It is the tornado, screaming and tearing through life. The other version of myself stands in the eye of the storm, trying to avoid its path, screaming pointlessly into the spiral to remember who we really are while losing touch with who I am at the same time. Mostly all I can hear is the version that becomes the tornado, but there comes these background thoughts, senses and moments where the version of myself that sees life more clearly breaks through. 

And really it is the background knowledge that something is not right, that there will be consequences, that I am hurting – it is that reminder of who I am that makes me so afraid and so hurt. I know somehow that something is wrong, but I can’t stop it. This paradox creates the fear of going crazy, because I’m trying to figure out what’s real, trying to be less angry, trying to do the right thing and still getting it wrong. The moments when the whirlwind drowns out all sense of self are actually more peaceful, in a strange way.

It’s really a pointless fear. I can do all I can to protect myself and those around me and nothing more. The idea of being judged is useless to me; the internal ableism is something for me to face. But still this fear raises its head every now and then. This year at drama school I became convinced I was ‘disappeared’ – not that I had disappeared, that I was disappeared. I was so far away from myself and yet able to drift through my life and I feared that it would be that way forever. It wasn’t. Most things don’t last forever and that is wonderful. Essentially, if you’re a mentally ill person who shares this fear – hi, you’re not alone! And if you’re not and this sounds to you like I’ve already gone crazy, who knows – our realities are only relative anyway. I choose to set free this fear today and face my future with love and action instead. Sending love and support to you all today xxx

Posted in Advocacy, autism

Ugly Autism

Posted on by Millie :)

As always when talking about autism, I want to remind everyone that autism is not a mental illness. It is a type of neurodivergency; this basically means as autistic people our brains think and process information differently to the ‘norm’ that is expected in the world. However autistic people are more likely to suffer with mental health issues, largely in part to the fact that we are living in a world that isn’t built for us. I’ve talked about an overview on autism acceptance before – which you can read here – but today I wanted to discuss the complexity of an autistic experience and how as more people get involved in autism acceptance and advocacy (which is an amazing thing that I am thrilled to see!) we must keep in mind the spectrum of experiences and therefore the complexity of the necessary solutions.

Sometimes my autism isn’t pretty. I can still fit into the world as I am expected to, but that comes with effort which often goes unseen or under-appreciated. I can do this reasonably easily compared to some, and this is in part due to other aspects of my identity (such as my race) and the supportive people who surround me. You can view this as lucky or not; I think in a way it is unfortunate. It’s unfortunate that I have to manipulate the very essence of the way I think in order to fit into systems I often have no desire to engage with in the first place. I think it’s unfortunate that we can even frame this as ‘lucky’ because that just points to how painful life is for those who can’t, and how this pain is worse than the struggle of concealing one’s true self. While I do frame my autism as my superpower sometimes, I do not believe in the rhetoric that it is a blessing – this also lends to the rhetoric that it could be a tragedy when in reality it just is what it is. I frame it as my superpower personally because that helps me cope with its challenges, and because being autistic is so central to my identity that embracing it in a society that often doesn’t is radically self loving for me. My mental health issues are not the same as me being autistic, but since autism affects how I process everything they are of course intertwined and I have no doubt that being autistic in a world that isn’t has been part of how bad my mental illness has gotten and how confusing it has been to understand. In particular I think my early experiences of mental health issues (before they developed into a clear mood disorder of their own) were heavily intertwined with my autistic experience.

So why am I telling you all this? To give you the smallest cross-section of just one person’s autistic experience, and the complexity of even trying to begin to comprehend that experience, so that you might begin to grasp how neurodivergency and the way it is approached by society is not something that can be easily defined or explained. And that is essentially the point of this post. There are more conversations happening around neurodivergency now then ever before – and that is a joyous and wonderful thing! But these conversations cannot be dulled down to a single Instagram post, or a single profile of autism – which threatens to be the most easily palatable representation of autism. Think of how mental health awareness is sometimes boiled down to self-care, bosses offering a free yoga class to their employees, and pity for the people who can’t socialise but can still just about get through a days work. This kind of awareness fails to recognise or help those suffering in ways that are uncomfortable for us to hear about, or impede how they might function in the systems they are expected to – it doesn’t help the person who has to take a year off work, nor the person who has to call an ambulance because they are convinced they’re dying, nor the person who lashes out at others with angry words because they can’t deal with their inner turmoil. I don’t want a similar pattern to happen as we see more autistic and neurodivergent awareness and representation. We can’t afford to ignore the messy parts of autism that might make some people a bit uncomfortable, or the fact that many neurodivergent people can’t (or don’t want to) participate in traditional capitalist structures that aren’t set up to support them. As there is more awareness, we must show the full array of autistic experiences – from all races, with comorbid mental health issues, different traits, physically disabled autistic people etc etc.

Autism and neurodivergency can’t become something trendy, like a new kind of personality test for CEOs to try and enhance their team and their diversity. They just need to become tolerated, known, understood. Because neurodivergency isn’t always palatable; sometimes it’s messy and it’s different and we have to make sure we don’t run the risk of autistic and adhd people who can more easily fit into the societal expectations (and who want to, because not everyone does) getting ahead and heralded as some liberal caring symbol for employers – for example, while others continue to be ignored. 

Posted in Managing Mental Health, Mental Health

How to Support Someone With Mental Health Issues

Posted on by Millie :)

It can be extremely hard to watch someone you love and care about going through a tough time regarding their mental health. It can also be painful if someone close to you discloses their mental illness or mental health struggles and you had no idea about it. You may feel like a failure yourself, like there’s nothing you can do, like you are useless. Essentially it may start to impact your mental health as well. That’s why the most important thing to remember when supporting someone with mental health issues is that you need to look after yourself as well. You have to.

1. Look after yourself

Sometimes we want to rush in and save the whole world – fix everything – but this simply isn’t possible. Perhaps at first it may seem like a good idea to try and take on the other person’s issues entirely as your own, without giving yourself the space needed to process your own emotions. In fact for a short while this may actually help the other person – but that’s not sustainable; long term it will lead to you burning out, struggling yourself or becoming resentful, likely making the entire situation worse. That’s why it’s so important to look after yourself, even if this is just journaling at the end of the day to help you sort out the feelings of the day, or doing a hobby once a week, the possibilities are limitless and you have to find what works for you. The important thing is that you do find it. And putting in boundaries with the person you are supporting can also help this, and most likely will help them in the long run too.

2. Listen to them

Many people with mental health issues, especially when they are first opening up about them, doubt themselves, feel ashamed or invalidated. By listening to them with an open mind you can help lessen these feelings. And by listening, I mean just that. Not everyone wants (nor even needs) advice or solutions all the time, sometimes they just need to be heard so they feel a little less alone. When having a conversation about their emotions/ experience it can be really helpful to ask the question ‘would you like me to offer advice or just listen to you?’. Validating their experience through listening to them can have a huge impact for someone struggling and give them confidence and reassurance. Remember that they are the one that lives in their brain, and they know what they are going through better than anyone else; it’s not your job to dictate to them what they are undergoing. However, linking to my last point, it is important that you don’t take on all of their feelings for yourself, so placing boundaries can be really helpful – for example requesting that before they talk to you, they ask you if you are in a place to have that conversation.

3. Involve them

Going through a tough time mentally can feel very isolating, and our brains can make us feel very lonely and rejected. That’s why it’s important to continue to involve someone who is struggling mentally. This could mean continuing to invite them to social events while making clear there is no pressure or expectations placed upon them to attend. If they accept and invitation, it might then mean making some accommodations for them, like helping them order food if that’s a point of anxiety for them or giving them some space if they need it for example. It might also mean offering to meet them one on one for a while if that’s easier for them, or talking with them about plans to keep them safe and checking in with them regularly. To relate to my last point, if you’re unsure of what to do, you can always ask them if they have any ideas or if there’s a way you can accommodate them better. This is a huge sign that you care for and accept them still.

4. Research their experience

If the person you are supporting has a diagnosis or has disclosed to you specific symptoms, it can be helpful for your own knowledge to research this. A quick google search will bring up symptoms lists and examples of how these might affect them, but I would also encourage you to look beyond this and read up on the personal experience of different people from different walks of life to get a clearer picture. This can help you understand the person you are supporting better without the worry that you are prying to much, and it can help them to feel seen as this informs how you support them.

5. Make them a happy kit

I’ve made a previous post on this, which you can read here. A happy kit is essentially a little collection of things that can help someone process their emotions, get through a crisis moment, or just generally cheer them up. It can include some things that they find calming or cheering, and maybe a list of distractions and mini coping exercises to try. Distractions are also a really great way to help someone with a mental health issue – it’s not a long term fix but it can help them escape their brain for a minute and feel more ready to face the day. If a distraction is creative it could also be a way of helping them to express themselves, and feel less alone if you’re doing it together.

6. Help with small tasks

Small tasks such as cleaning, ordering food, or remembering deadlines can become seemingly impossible for someone experiencing a mental health struggle. If you feel up to it you can offer to help them with these small tasks, even if that’s just by doing it with them (for example cleaning together one afternoon, or going food shopping together). As always, asking them how best to help is always a good idea, and if they’re not sure offering something specific – such as sending them a reminder text – might appeal to them.

7. Show them you care

It’s simple, but one of the most helpful and meaningful things anyone has ever done for me during my own struggles has been showing me they cared. This could mean writing someone a supportive letter, or making them a playlist. Just something simple that lets them know you care.

7. Be patient

We all have mental health and it can be a long term challenge to face for many. Someone in the midsts of a struggle isn’t going to overcome it overnight, but with amazing people like you willing to support them, they can find their way through. Keep in mind that you need to be patient – one of the reasons why looking after yourself is so important – and that their struggles are not a comment on you, ever. Eventually the sun will come shining through!

Posted in Advocacy, autism, Personal Growth

Autism is My Superpower

Posted on by Millie :)

I’m autistic. Having autism in a neurotypical world is not easy because generally the world isn’t built for us and proves to be confusing, but for anyone struggling with their diagnosis/ symptoms (and any neurotypicals unclear on the individual nature of autism) I want to make it clear that having autism isn’t a defect. Nor is it a mental illness. In fact, it can be a bonus in many situations, and when accommodated to autistic people can provide new perspectives and skills to the benefit of others. I, for one, like to think that my autism is my superpower, and this is my personal experience:

I learnt to ‘mask’ my autism – consciously learning how to act and react from other people’s behaviour; having to put effort into learning social rules that came naturally to others. Masking can be exhausting, so I know it’s essential that I take breaks and find time for myself, but like a superhero in a costume, it can also be powerful. How? Because my passion is theatre, and when I become the character I act out on stage, I am easily able to slip myself into their shoes – I know how they would behave and why. It comes effortless to me. The misconception is that autistic people are like robots and can only slot into certain careers. In reality we are varied like everyone else, and our uniqueness is incredible. We exist in every identity there is: every race, every gender, every sexuality, as parents and children. Our variety is often overlooked.

My increased sensory input is a key feature of my superpower. I observe more, hear more, taste more. This translates to a benefit in so many situations. You don’t know your train time? Don’t worry, I glanced at the board quickly and noticed it. You’re lost and don’t know the way back? Don’t worry, I spotted landmarks along the way, I know where we’re going. You’re trying to remember where you put your glasses? Never fear, I spotted them. And if we’re thinking about sound and music, my greater sensory input comes to my aid once again – that along with my ability to spot patterns as part of my autism, and my synaesthesia (which is far more prevalent among autistic people than the general population). When I hear a piece of music, it is alive to me. It is full of colour, I hear every layer of the rich instruments, and I can see the patterns the notes are forming. If I want to then play that piece on piano, I need only translate the pattern onto the keys – give me a bit of time and I can paint the picture I hear all by myself. This is my superpower. 

Not to mention the fact that I am quite simply neurodivergent. I think experience the world in a way that is different to ‘the norm’, or rather the majority. Why is this a feature of my superpower? Because I can come up with new ideas and perspectives that may have been overlooked or not thought of at all. In certain situations this can become the way I overcome challenges or help others to do so; in the right combination my divergent thinking could be innovative. Us autistic people have a place in this society, no matter where our traits lie on the spectrum, and if we are accommodated we may even be able to offer solutions, certainly valuable contributions at the least. 

Like a superhero may have an emblem, sign, or symbol, I have my stims. By stims I mean self stimulatory behaviour. Why is this so amazing? Well, it indicates to me how I am feeling (different stims, like tapping my fingers on my palm or twirling my ankle, correspond to different moods). Not only this, but should I start to feel an uncomfortable emotion, stimming freely can help calm me down. There’s a lot of people out there that don’t have something so simple in their toolbox, so this is powerful to me. It’s also such a pure form of expression, and can even help me release my creativity, tapping into my flow. Furthermore, my stims evolve over time – hitting my head morphed into covering my head and now I need only put on a hat to feel at home. How awesome is that? 

This barely scratches the surface of my positive autistic experience, but I hope it has enlightened you. Autism is not a bad thing – quite the opposite. And the beautiful part of it is that no one autistic person’s experience is the same as another. We have a place in this world, and we’re not going anywhere, so the more that neurotypicals begin to understand and help us meet our needs, the more we can give.

Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

Reducing Mental Health Stigma

Posted on by Millie :)

I have been fortunate that I have not personally come up against too much explicit stigma throughout my mental health journey so far – and when I have, there has been an incredible amount of supportive people surrounding me. However just a quick trip online reveals how much stigma still exists around mental health, and backhanded comments such as ‘just snap out of it’ or ‘you don’t look mentally ill’ are far too common. Sometimes I am afraid that I will be left out from job opportunities or educational experiences in the future because of my struggles. And so it is important to me, for my benefit and the benefit others, that I do what I can to reduce stigma in my advocacy. For me that means sharing my story, educating myself (especially on the intersectionality of mental health in society), and being open in conversation. Here is my quick guide on what anyone can do to reduce mental health stigma.

  1. Change your language

It might insignificant, but language holds power. What I mean by this is avoiding calling someone who is mentally ill ‘crazy’, and instead validating their experience. Another way to adapt our language is to avoiding using conditions as adjectives. For example instead of saying ‘I’m a bit OCD’ say ‘I like things to be tidy’, and instead of saying ‘She’s so bipolar’ say ‘she’s a bit moody today’. Changing our language can signify a shift in how we approach topics, and encourages us to be more mindful of how what we say can impact someone.

2. Educate yourself

Education is a powerful tool. Educate yourself on the warning signs of mental health issues, different conditions, and the reality of the lived experience of those struggling with their mental health (they’re not the dangerous, horrible people that some media may lead us to believe they are). And educate yourself on the fact that everyone has mental health, and everyone deserves to look after it. Furthermore, educate yourself on how mental health is intersectional with identity and social issues. Here is a post from my instagram that has some basic statistics on this.

3. Listen

When someone speaks up about their mental health, listen. Actively listen. Do not try to shut them down or tell them to toughen up. Listen to what they need and what they are experiencing.

4. Speak up

If someone says something ignorant in a conversation about mental health, try to gently educate them. If you are able to, speak up in your workplace or school to ask for better training for employees on mental health, and policies to support employees/ students.

5. Speak to power

Sign petitions that lobby for better and more inclusive mental health support nationwide and in our communities. Write an email to your MP (or other political representative) about improving mental health systems.

8. Support mental health charities

Whether this is by donating, sharing their campaigns, or engaging with their programmes, their work is so important.

7. Carry openness in your life

Include people in your workplace; continue to invite friends with mental health issues even if they don’t always come along. Treat everyone with dignity and respect, and offer them encouragement in their day to day life and when seeking professional support. Never blame anyone for their struggles. Be kind.

Thank you for taking the time to read this post. All of my love and support to you today,

Millie xx