Posted in Advocacy

A Need to Speak

This is the video I refer to in the post. Please watch (there are no graphic images, it is just very moving): https://www.instagram.com/reel/DBULsD3O5r5/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

Words continue to feel meaningless but not saying anything surely is more damning. Excuse a few heartfelt musings from me. 

Last night I was listening to my late Granny reading a poem in which she recalls how she has always been aware that she and Anne Frank could have changed places. They were only seven weeks apart. 

But for the happenstance of where I was born, it could be me in Gaza. It could be any of us in the Middle East. That’s the foundation of empathy I suppose, and humanity is the ability to care about something outside of ourselves. 

These are not simple issues. That’s why they’re ongoing. Humans are complex. International relations is human complexity on a grand and incomprehensible scale. What is simple, as far as I’m concerned, is that the genocidal killing of innocent civilians must stop. 

Never again means never again for anyone, and saying that you wished less people were dying should not be a controversial topic. 

I have varying, moveable, largely ignorant views on this all. I think one of the biggest problems we face nowadays is the inability to have conversations with people that disagree with us. Often we are encouraged to jump to the conclusion that they are a bad person for holding a view we see as wrong, rather than a person with a full life of difference to us and the capacity to love. We must believe in the capacity to change. We must learn how to have complicated, uncomfortable conversations. People will never truly grow if they are afraid to ask questions. And I could be wrong on all of this too – that’s the point. 

There are people dying as we speak in Gaza, and now Lebanon. 

I am a pacifist, I personally consider any avoidable loss of life a tragedy for all. I feel so sorry for all the families and friends that lost someone on October 7th 2023 – but especially because their relatives’ memories have been used to inflict pain and torture on millions of people. The people that lost their lives deserved better than that. My heart also breaks for the families grieving in Gaza on October 7th 2024, as Isreal continued their ground invasion in the north. And for every life lost, every life lived in fear in the intervening 365 days. 

I cannot deal with the noise of a fan in the background, or a car backfiring, or music playing too loudly. I cannot help but think of all the autistic people in Palestine. The 24/7 drone, the constant bombing, screaming, unpredictability. I can only see it as psychological torture. 

And while I’m at it – the trauma that will endure, the pain and grief that will continue to cycle, all of the psychological toil and aftermath reaffirms what I have long thought that the western system of individually pathologising people fails to encapsulate the pain, triumph, and humanity that mentally ill and mad people struggle with. Are we going to be diagnosing every single Gazan with PTSD? Or bipolar, as I am diagnosed, which is thought to have traumatic stress as a triggering cause. I hope not. That would seem an insult to the suffering they faced. I hope we learn from this – if for no other reason than I want to see some good come from all this evil – to see human distress and our capabilities to heal and love as more complex than a psychiatric label. 

But I digress. Because in order to heal, to have a chance at healing, they need to be alive. 

Who am I to say, but maybe in order to have a lasting peace we need first to stop killing? 

I don’t usually post my political views on my accounts in this way, and I rarely directly expand on my views on my personal accounts. I don’t want to risk my very being becoming polemic, or contributing to division. But I’m sat here tonight after welcoming a new year group to my university course, safe on my sofa, having been able to access medicine after I was sick all last week, and I’m sat here watching a live stream of what is plausibly a genocide (as far as I’m concerned, it is). And I can’t help but think of how my gran was so haunted by the very fact that the holocaust happened. And I can’t help but think how brave she was, and how maybe if I was a little braver I would do something more, and how maybe doing something more just starts by opening my mouth (or putting words on paper as it may be). 

I want to believe in hope. It affects my own survival if I don’t, trust me, I can forget sometimes. I don’t think we live in isolation. I think what we all do matters. A smile can change a life, a conversation can change a world. And I feel powerless with this. So I said something, maybe to ease my own ego, who knows. I hope it means something somewhere. 

The UK is still supplying arms to Isreal. The very least we can do is write to our MPs and ask them to stop doing that. And to ask them to do more to put pressure on Isreal to abide by international law – which they are not, that’s not up for debate. 

UNWRA and Oxfam have appeals for donations to try and help in Gaza, Lebanon, and across the Middle East, as do individual families. 

Thanks for reading my little rant. Sending you love and support, fellow human x

Posted in Advocacy

Palestinian Solidarity as a Mental Health Advocate

As a mental health advocate, and a sensitive human being, I have wanted to do more to help the Palestinian people, but I’ve found myself feeling inadequate and powerless – beating myself up over not doing more already and letting that push me into further inaction. The problems in the world can feel overwhelming; it is in those moments I believe we need to find more power to lean into love and lean into hope. We’re all just one person; it’s together that we make a difference, cliche as that may be. So I decided to do what I can and write something here, because this is my little space. If we all do what we can I have a sneaking suspicion we might make a whole lot of difference, even if waiting to see that materialise can be heartbreaking.

Why do I care about Palestine? Because I care about people. We are watching horrific crimes against humanity, what the International Court of Justice has plausibly called a genocide, live streamed to us in real time following what the United Nations has recognised as a 76 year apartheid campaign in Palestine. That’s not normal. And it should never be normal or acceptable. I know personally I have become emotionally numbed to the every day experience of the images and reports streaming in. If that is you too, I implore you not to let that numb, crisis-responding brain to stop you from caring and taking action. It is more than understandable that we are having intense and varied reactions to the violence, but that doesn’t strip our humanity, in fact it shows it.

I believe all of our struggles are interconnected, and that this interconnectedness impacts us in ways we are often unaware of. From the viewpoint of a mental health advocate, my heart breaks for the grief weaving between the Palestinian people. Losing homes, family, children, their dreams, their land… the list goes on and on. How can anyone process that grief and that pain? How can we allow people to go on living in such unimaginable fear and suffering, constantly? Not only their lives and legacies are being attacked, but also their joy.

Yet I have seen such incredible displays of resilience and joy and community from Gaza. Using music, dance, art, magic shows and an ongoing commitment to educating their children in the most horrific circumstances. This is what inspires me to keep hoping and pushing for them, because it gives a glimpse of the resilience of the human spirit and the possibility for future world building.

As a mental health advocate I think often too of the neurodiverse adults and children in Gaza. How the constant uncertainty, unexpected changes, loss of familiarity, and noise from bombings and the 24/7 drones must be affecting them. I can’t deal with a humming fan for a few minutes before I start to become distressed – how is this mental torture going to affect them long term? How much more likely are they to die?

As Maysoon Zayid said, what’s happening in Palestine is a ‘mass disabling event’. We do not currently have the infrastructural setup pretty much anywhere to comprehend or deal with disability on such a scale. The genocide in Palestine highlights many issues with how we conceptualise mental illness, distress, and disability. In the west we use a highly individualised model that tends to view the mentally ill or disabled person as the problem without true consideration of what makes the person disabled, the structural problems, or how we decide distress is illness. As a mental health advocate, I hope what we see in Palestine can inspire us also to reconsider how we decide someone is ill, and how we provide support. Maybe it’s inconsequential to bring up while people are still actively being killed – but the possibility to find multiple avenues of change in these horrors keeps me energised to carry on trying.

As Dr Samah Jabr, Palestine’s head of mental health services said in 2019, ‘I question the methodology. I think they’re measuring social psychological pain and social suffering, and they’re saying this is depression. What is sick, the context or the person? In Palestine, we see many people whose symptoms – unusual emotional reaction or behaviours – are a normal reaction to a pathogenic context. There are many people in Palestine who are suffering. But Western-developed tools for measuring depression, such as the Beck inventory, do not tend to distinguish between justified misery and clinical depression’. She raises important questions around the way we conceptualise trauma and mental health for Palestinians, and indeed the world. We only grow by continuing to reconsider what we know.

All this to say, we need to do something. I am first and foremost a creative and a mental health advocate. So I can raise my unique voice by writing things like this, that take a look at the situation through the lens of a mental health advocate. How can you use your unique voice? I encourage you to ask that question. And remember, it’s never ever too late to do something to help someone else in this world – never let anyone shame you for not doing what you didn’t yet know you could. We only have today, so let’s make it count.

Below are some ideas I’ve gathered on how to help the Palestinian people, and a few resources, because education is the most powerful tool we have. I don’t have a grip on the whole situation or the history, and frankly I have no idea what the best solution would be in the intricacies of international law and politics. Bottom line, what I do know is: anti-zionism is NOT anti-semitism, and the killing has to stop. We have to fight for peace.

How you can help & resources:

  • BDS (Boycott, Divestment, & Sanctions) – A Palestinian-led movement that helps you know what to boycott to make an impact with what money you do/don’t spend. They have different catagories for the type of boycotts and links to other organisations supporting Palestine in your country. You can find their website here
  • Protests – Protests supporting Palestine have been taking place across the world, and they have done a huge amount to raise moral, momentum, awareness, and make change. In the UK the next National Demonstration calling for a ceasefire is taking place in London at 12 noon on the 18th. You can find more information about this and other events in the UK here. I have been to the protests in London and they are incredibly inspiring and joyful – people of all ages, faiths and nationalities have been in attendance. If you can go I would really encourage you to show your face!
  • Read! – It’s so important we take time to educate ourselves properly on this issue and learn more about the world around us. There are many ways to do this and if reading feels like an impossible task right now, don’t worry! It’s all about doing what you can. Watching some videos, like Bisan’s online series, or some articles are a great way to start. But reading is powerful; from books we get an almost unrivalled depth of knowledge and undertsanding. Here is a list of books to start your search, it is split into several categories
  • Podcasts – Podcasts can also be a great way to learn about Palestine as you go through your day. If you have been trying to make sense of the media portrayal of the Palestinian solidarity, and specifically the student encampments that are popping up currently, I would really recommend this episode of queer, Jewish creator Matt Bernstein’s ‘A Bit Fruity’. It’s a good listen for people with in depth and less knowledge of the pro-Palestinian movement alike
  • Follow Palestinian journalists, artists, and organisations – I love Bisan (@bisan_wizard1 on Instagram) in particular, and the Palestinian Solidarity Campaign in the UK is a great way to find out about events and other people to follow
  • Petition your government – Attend events lobbying MPs in person, write to your representatives regularly, and sign petitions like this one (and google others lobbying your government!)
  • Donate to UNRWA – Let’s be completely clear that the work UNRWA does to support and feed the Palestinian people is vital. As more aid agencies have pulled out of Gaza due to unprecedented danger for their workers, the support UNRWA provides has become even more crucial. Israel made false allegations that UNRWA workers aided in the October 7th attack – there is no evidence for this. Without their aid, even more Palestinian people will die from starvation. You can donate to help their life saving work here
  • Donate directly to Gazan families – Many families in Gaza have started Gofundme pages to raise enough money to help them flee, pay for crossing the border, and setting up new lives elsewhere. Here are just a few you can donate to if you have some spare cash: Ghabayen family, family with 3 disabled children from Gaza (this one has very few donations so needs a lot of help!
  • Look after yourself – find ways to connect with yourself in this troubling time; to lean into love and its regenerative power. When was the last time you danced, connected with your body? Have you ever felt a connection to nature, and how can you foster that connection to the earth? Can you reach out and build community (the solidarity movement is so open and a great place to find kind souls to connect with)? What has helped you before? If you are troubled, maybe this can be part of our collective world building and joy growing. I dunno, just an idea
  • Keep questioning and learning and discovering for yourself
  • Be creative – art is powerful and creative thinking is powerful. Use your voice and dream up new ways and remix old ways and be creative in how you can make a difference!

I thought I’d end the post with a poem by Refaat Alareer, who lost his life in this onslaught:

If I Must Die

If I must die, 

you must live 

to tell my story 

to sell my things 

to buy a piece of cloth 

and some strings, 

(make it white with a long tail) 

so that a child, somewhere in Gaza 

while looking heaven in the eye 

awaiting his dad who left in a blaze— 

and bid no one farewell 

not even to his flesh 

not even to himself— 

sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above 

and thinks for a moment an angel is there 

bringing back love 

If I must die 

let it bring hope 

let it be a tale

فال بد أن تعيش أنت 

رفعت العرعير

إذا كان لا بد أن أموت 

فال بد أن تعيش أنت 

لتروي حكايتي

لتبيع أشيائي

وتشتري قطعة قماش 

وخيوطا

(فلتكن بيضاء وبذيل طويل) 

كي يبصر طفل في مكان ما من ّغّزة 

وهو يح ّّدق في السماء 

منتظرًاً أباه الذي رحل فجأة 

دون أن يودع أحدًاً 

وال حتى لحمه 

أو ذاته

يبصر الطائرة الورقّية 

طائرتي الورقية التي صنعَتها أنت

تحّلق في الأعالي 

ويظ ّّن للحظة أن هناك مالكًاً 

يعيد الحب

إذا كان لا بد أن أموت 

فليأ ِِت موتي باألمل 

فليصبح حكاية

ترجمة سنان أنطون 

Translation by Sinan Antoon

Sending all of my love and support to you today xx

Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

Language and Mental Health

Language is one of the foremost ways many of us use to communicate and convey ideas and, crucially, meaning. The intricacies of the meaning in the language we use are myriad and will vary even from person to person; it is a wonderful and beautiful thing. Unfortunately many people do not have equal access to language (think of non-speaking autistics denied access and support to use proper AAC equipment; the thousands of children, especially girls, denied the right to education and literacy etc etc), but that’s a topic for another day. Today I want to talk specifically on the importance of use and language surrounding mental health. To be clear this post is not a deep dive, but an introductory exploration. 

Much of the language we see used most commonly around mental health is highly pathologised – it has medical connotations and meaning. Often this translates to seeing emotional, mental, and physical responses as indicative of a disease or disorder, and as such having connotations of being a deficit or inherent fault. Mental health itself connotes also the possibility of illness, and therefore something that needs curing. Problems arise from this in many ways, for example dismissal of legitimate concerns; inability to recognise spiritual or enlightening experiences as such, seeing everything as a symptom; putting people in boxes they don’t fit into; discrimination and ableism; etc etc. That’s not to say there aren’t benefits to this kind of language though, as I have spoken about previously in my post about diagnoses. Labels can provide validation, connection with others, understanding, and guidance to healing. Perhaps in an ideal world we would not need this kind of language – but it does certainly serve a purpose for many. 

However, what the medical paradigm of mental health – including the language used because of it – has arguably caused is a lack of wider understanding of the intersectional issues relating to mental health, lack of access and acceptance of alternative healing, and lack of autonomy for many who choose not to adopt medicalised language. 

Think for example of a bipolar person who chooses to use non-medical language to describe their experience, and engages in spiritual, holistic and peer support instead of traditional therapy and medication – many would look upon them as neglecting their mental health, in denial of their condition, and even reckless for deciding not to use chemical treatment. I know this happens regularly, as a bipolar person myself, simply from asking the question of what alternative support is out there. If you are medicalised, many find it hard to see your legitimate questions as sane. 

This is just one non-specific example of the way medicalised language can cause issues. When we see depression in a medical lens, we often think of therapy and medication, chemical imbalances, and individual faults. The language we use plays a really large role in those connotations. But it is easy to overlook things like connection to nature, systemic issues (housing inequality, racism etc), and lack of purpose in how they contribute to the depression. Instead we hear depression and that can create a block to accessing deeper thought and understanding of the real issues, as we see it as an all encompassing condition. 

But language can be a tool in helping us access different ways of thinking and communicating with others too. For example, I like the term ‘human distress’ to describe some difficult emotions and experiences, as it reminds me of our shared humanity and allows a gentler approach to seeing a way forward. Personally I also have many ways that I describe my own experiences that lay outside of the medical sphere. These phrases help me to convey my true experiences to others and process it myself. They also help me to see my experiences beyond ‘good or bad’ or medicalised ideas of delusions and reality, because it allows me a deeper exploration of what each experience actually means to me and how I can tell, rather than seeing them all as symptoms. 

For example, I do feel a much deeper empathic and intuitive connection to others when I’m manic, which has proven to be important and spot-on on many occasions. By allowing myself the language to see my mania as both unrealistic, and intuitive; delusional, and spiritual, I allow myself to see my mind in all its shades and heal more freely. Other phrases I have used to convey my experience range from ‘my brain is itchy’, ‘I can’t catch the balloons in my head’, to ‘I am disappeared’. All have meaning to me and have helped me convey my experience in a more authentic way. 

The Mad Community has also developed a lot of new and reclaimed language that is helpful to many, and provides many the opportunity to reframe their experiences and escape the trauma of medicalisation in mutual care. A noticeable reclamation of language is the word ‘mad’ itself. Much like the queer community have reclaimed the use of ‘queer’ from a slur to an empowering word, so has the mad community reclaimed the word mad. For years our madness has been used against us to discriminate, tease, abuse, and disregard our experiences. After all, if you are labelled mad, how could you ever convince someone you are sane? But the mad community is reclaiming the word. For many, it goes beyond a synonym for neurodiverse or mentally ill, but a title to be proud of, and a word that is in itself a revolution against the medicalisation and ableism of psychiatry. 

Lots of wonderful and important language has originated/ resurfaced through the mad community and people looking for different ways to describe their experiences. It is a cycle of language we see over and over again – terms gain new connotations, no longer suit the needs of people, and must be replaced; sometimes progressive terms take on the meaning of slurs and insults, only to cycle round again later and be reclaimed. Some other terms outside pathologised language include:

  • Different realities – rather than delusions or psychosis 
  • Altered states – states of being that are outside what many would consider normal, may appear chaotic, creative, extreme in some way (for example what some may call mania or depression)
  • Psychiatric survivor – people who feel their experience with psychiatry was more harmful than helpful 

Language surrounding madness and mental health has contributed to and reflected societal views on these subjects for centuries, and as such holds societal importance as much as individual importance. Perhaps the greatest take away from considering the importance of language in mental health is that it will always have significance in how we view and approach these topics as society, and it will always have significance in how we view our own experiences and communicate with others. Only you can choose the language you use in your life. And that language is free to adapt and change. If we keep considering the meaning behind our language and communicating with others on how we can best use language, we’re on our way to making meaningful change. 

Sending love and support to you all today. 

For further reading on this topic check out this article:

Posted in Managing Mental Health, Mental Health, therapy

Importance of Community for Mental Health

I find it very interesting how although there is a constant discourse around mental health nowadays, so many aspects of what affects our mental health and how we can support it are completely overlooked. That is of course just my opinion, but I do consistently find the most common narratives to be constricting, perpetuating unhelpful ideas, or simply not understanding the complexity of the issue. I think we are as a collective much more able to have and hold complicated conversations with contradictory ideas when we are given the space, the opportunity, and the tools. Life isn’t simple; society isn’t simple; mental health isn’t simple. 

One of the aspects of healing I am surprised doesn’t come up more often in a meaningful way is community. Community is essential to supporting mental health. And when we can build deep community bonds, we can find incredible new ways of healing. The kind of community I’m talking about I see as a connection deeper than many of the bonds we find in modern life. I see it as a return to genuine mutual care, sharing responsibilities, and responsibility to each other. Essentially, I see it as a big sidestep away from what I think can be a very individualistic and isolating culture nowadays. 

We do not live in the world alone. We are made to be interconnected and intertwined with nature and with other humans. We see it in our nature constantly – think of the incredible impact we are only just starting to see in children from lockdown; in a study on the addictive nature of cocaine found rats were less likely to become addicted if they had social connection; social pain itself (for example, pain from cruel words or rejection) suggests that we are evolutionarily wired for connection. All pain exists, from an evolutionary standpoint, to teach and warn us about potential danger. The fact that social pain even exists tells us that connection is a necessity, not a luxury. 

In a fundamental sense connection is vital to healing because it fulfils a basic need. If we then also look through the lens of our traumas, the rules and lessons (whether good or bad or neither) that we have learned throughout our lives and from society, we can start to see another level to how connection can help us in healing. Regardless of where mental illness originates, it has an impact not only on the person experiencing that distress, but others around them. And that distress undoubtedly impacts the way the person experiencing it views and senses their place in connection to others.

So often being misunderstood, harmed, isolated, ostracised etc etc are a part of or contributing factor to mental illness. They’re a part of a lot of social ills – homelessness, racism, school expulsions etc. Individualism is an important part of much of western culture. But numerous studies (and many people’s lived experiences, which are also very important) show us time and time again that isolation is damaging to mental health. This is not to say that a collectivist culture is the way forward either – several studies have found collectivist cultures to have lower happiness indices, while still other studies have looked at the complex nature of trying to measure happiness in collectivist cultures through a western lens and in the midst of ongoing turmoil etc… this is all to say that there’s a balance to this, as to everything. I am not espousing to try and forget individual nature. I am simply pointing out that we need more connection than what we’re getting at the moment. Connection is almost revolutionary in some ways. 

Community is a wonderful thing because it’s a moveable thing. Community is where we live, or who we love, or online groups, or 12 step programmes. Community is not easily defined, in my opinion, and so it is possible to continue to redefine. Simply asking the question of what community is and how to build it goes a very long way already. 

To me, community is love. Community is support, safety to make mistakes, safety to feel. To me, community means non-hierarchical. Personally that’s very important within a healing space because the power imbalance in a failed mental health system has caused me so much fear and hurt. So community healing is healing together. Sharing skills, sharing resources, sharing time and sometimes being the stronger one for others. I suppose I’m thinking about peer support spaces when I speak in this way; they have been instrumental for me. Terrifying to try for the first time because of how we’ve learnt not to feel safe in groups, but so many accessible and adapting peer support spaces are emerging now; it’s wonderful to see. Connecting with people with lived experience like you can be a transformational experience. 

Some examples of peer support spaces (of different structures and aims etc) are:

– @ peersupportspace on instagram (online groups)

– Bipolar UK peer support groups

– 12 Step Programmes 

Mad Art Club London

But the importance of community in supporting mental health (and healing with mental illness) is not just support directly related to our mental health. Like I already said, we are wired for connection. Finding meaningful ways to connect for whatever reason can have incredible healing power. Whether that be helping to create a community garden, co-working (very much similar to parallel play), sharing skills and hobbies, having ways to share resources in a community – it all matters. And it is all powerful.

I don’t know how articulate I’ve been here. It’s hard to put something I feel instinctively into words, though there is definitely research to suggest my gut feeling might have some merit. I can’t tell you how to be well; but I can tell you I care. I’ll leave you with these 3 questions to ponder today, whatever the answer may be for you:

  1. What does community look like to me?
  2. Can community support mental health? How?
  3. How is community built?
Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health, neurodiversity

Ideas On Mental Health Advocacy

I get wrapped up in big ideas. And big ideas are important – the overall picture is important and helps us to understand the everyday and the connections between different issues and events. But I’m interested in the idea of how we can be effective in making change too. So I consider the question – does focusing too much on the big picture get in the way of making any change at all? How accessible is it to only talk about the big picture? Are the wider ideas helpful in getting people who aren’t already interested in mental health advocacy involved at first? Essentially – how can we actually start to make change and reach more people?

The small steps are important. So too is every single voice raised, however it may be. I am reasonably good at writing and giving talks/ workshops. I also love theatre and am passionate about the arts, something I hope to marry more with my advocacy going forwards. I am not particularly good in a protest situation. I can get very overstimulated. I’m not good at phone calls. I’m not good at prolonged in person social interactions. There are many things I’m not very good at, and though I can still lend my skills to different situations, it may not be at the frontline or in the way you might expect. My power lies in recognising that – and so does yours. You do not have to come up with an innovative idea or put your life on the line to make a difference in this world. If you can do that, wonderful! But never underestimate the unique skills and voice that you bring to the table. 

So back to the matter at hand – small actions. Very important to have the wider context. But small actions built up are what really make a difference, right? Maybe! Ok, so where do we start? Ah – well there’s a problem now, because I don’t know. No one knows. 

Is the long waiting lists the place to start? Or perhaps the funding? But then can you ever really fund a broken system? I would say no. No, we cannot just fund a broken system. But I’ve also been in rooms in CAHMS and the adult mental health service where it smells weird, the paint is peeling, and the lights don’t work. So maybe we do need to bring the basic infrastructure up to a reasonable level of functioning as is before we can start reforming and introducing new ideas/ scaling back ideas that aren’t working? 

I personally would love to see an end to the carceral, cruel way the system is. But I also know most people are unaware of the true nature of the issues with the system, unable to imagine a world without it, and that the world runs on profit. So I wonder if by focusing on the immediate abolition of the psychiatric complex this part of mental health advocacy shuts people out? I don’t know! I’m not saying that I know the answer, but I think it’s important to keep asking the questions. Maybe we need to see it in steps. Steps that may eventually lead to a very different system (or even the abolition of psychiatry), but that in the meantime are still seeing improvements. And I know that improvement isn’t enough, but it is something. It’s a step on the way to freedom. 

But then here we are again at the question of where to start. Mental health is interconnected with all other social issues. So we could even argue that the first step would be ignoring mental health altogether and solely focusing on, say, housing security. But can we really do that without including mental health provisions? Probably not. So we need all these different voices and people working together on different issues! Ok, so awareness is the first step? But awareness that doesn’t just perpetuate the same easy to swallow narrative of mental health; awareness that acknowledges the need for system change and societal change too. Although, even that awareness sounds complicated so we’re gonna have to start with easier awareness to get people on board, right?

Ok so, maybe awareness alongside something else. Fighting for funding? For changing the laws on sectioning? Both? Maybe… fighting to have a nationwide, government wide, deep conversation about what steps need to be taken. Fighting to be heard by the people with the direct power to start making those changes, so we can make a plan with them. Maybe? Or is that even too tall an order?

See, I prescribe to honest activism here at Our Happy Notes. I have chosen to share my journey with you in changemaking, and for me that means also sharing my thought processes about changemaking sometimes. This is something I am currently taking time to research, to read on, and to hear other people’s ideas on – to try and ascertain where actually might be a feasible starting place, and if that’s even a good idea. I’m not at a point in researching and discussing where I am able to come up with an idea that I can articulate and share or point people towards. But I wanted to share a bit of this process anyways, because I think at the moment I do believe all change starts with a simple conversation; connection. 

So what do you think? Do you think there is one specific demand or issue that needs to be in mental health advocacy to set the ball rolling? Do you have something in particular that you think needs to be looked at? Please let me know! 

And also… how can you use your voice? That’s a question for you to consider. It’s ok if the answer right now is that you can’t. 

Sending all my love and support to you all today xxxx

Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

Why We Should All Be Mental Health Advocates

Why Should You Care About Mental Health?

  • We all have mental health 
  • 1 in 4 people are dealing with what can be classified as mental illness every year 
  • Any of us may need to navigate dealing with or loving someone with mental illness at any time 
  • Any of us may end up trying to navigate the mental health system at any time
  • Mental health is intertwined with every part of our lives – think about the impact that grief, food scarcity, racism, work stresses and expectations etc etc etc have on our mental wellbeing 
  • People are dying

Why should you care about mental health advocacy?

(in other words, advocating for better support, systems, awareness and more around mental health)

  • The mental health system is currently failing – and in many cases harming and abusing – the vulnerable people looking for help. We all deserve better
  • Mental health advocacy can encompass lots of different areas of interest and support, like access to food and environmental connection, so no matter your field of interest you can incorporate it into your life – and together we can make a difference 
  • Better societal structures surrounding mental health would help us all on a daily basis (for example different expectations of productivity at work, no poverty, suitable housing for all, proper support for cost of living, community support etc etc)
  • Lives could be saved
  • We could have better ability and language to describe our experiences and understand the human condition to connect with each other 
  • Mental health advocacy can build community and genuine connections 
  • You can be part of a movement full of love and care, and get to help redefine what human distress means
  • Mental health advocacy hopes for all of us to lives happier, freer lives

How can you start getting involved?

  • Question what you assume to be true about the mental health system and the way we view mental illness; listen to psychiatric survivors and mad and mentally ill voices to expand your understanding, and your views of what the future of care could look like. Always keep learning and listening 
  • Start conversations with family and friends 
  • Write to your MP (or other representative)
  • Share information, but be careful what information you share 
  • Support local food banks, housing associations, and all range of initiatives in your local community – help build community
  • Look after yourself and define what healing means in your own life 
  • Connect with others who care about mental health advocacy – you can do this online as well as in person 
  • Use your own skill set – if you are an artist or a writer, an organiser or a fundraiser… use these skills! Don’t ever believe that you have less power just because you aren’t doing the same thing as others; we are stronger as a group, with everyone chipping in 

Please share this post with people in your life to start the conversation around mental health advocacy, and how we can make a change together.

Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

Mad Liberation: The Missing Piece of The Puzzle

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 Advocacy, Mental Health

10 Reminders for Mental Health Week

This week is mental health awareness week here in the UK, and it’s mental health awareness month in the USA. Therefore you’re likely to see a lot of information – and misinformation! – floating around. A lot of people making gestures towards mental health, and hollow gestures too. I’m obviously a mental health advocate all year round, and I’m also neurodiverse, mentally ill, and disabled all year round. So it’s not just a week for me, and in fact this week can be difficult for me because instead of showing me how far we’ve come it becomes glaringly obvious to me how far we still have to travel. It’s frustrating to see people posting hotline numbers, empty phrases, and self care tips without even hinting at the deep issues surrounding mental health. To be clear, I don’t blame individuals, it just reminds me how frustrated I am with the system.

So today here are 10 reminders of things you might not be hearing so much this mental health week that we still need to keep in mind:

1. The mental health system is failing, and inherently linked with the criminalisation of mental illness. You cannot simply fund a broken system

2. Psychiatry is used to uphold what society deems as acceptable

3. There is a lot of psychiatric abuse, which continues to go unknown by many. We must listen to psych survivors, who have been systematically silenced for years

4. Yes we all have mental health, and that is very important. But choosing to focus on the palatable narrative that goes along with ‘we all have mental health’ tends to ignore the chronically mentally ill, mad, and ostracised. Essentially, if you are talking about mental health you also need to talk about the parts that aren’t as easily digestible

5. The goal of healing should not be productivity

6. We cannot stick a bandaid on the mental health crisis without addressing the deep underlying socioeconomic problems in this country

7. We cannot heal in a vacuum. Community is needed for good mental health

8. This is actually a life or death issue for many people. We don’t have to get dragged down in the sadness of that all the time, but it is important to remember the gravity of it

9. If everyone needs therapy then society is sick, not each individual

10. Diagnosis and/or medication do not work for everyone

Thanks for reading! Sending so much love and support to you all today xxx

Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

Mental Health is Intersectional

Today is a blog reminding everyone of a certain point I try to illuminate all the time through my advocacy: mental health is intersectional. What does this mean? It means mental health is not a stand alone issue; it is connected to all other social justice issues, and all other parts of our lives. Intersectionality is about where these issues cross over, and how they cross over, and how if someone falls in the intersection of more than one (for example are faced with racism and ableism) it can create more problems for them that may be overlooked, ignored, or misunderstood by even the most well intentioned people – myself included. But intersectionality for me also is not just about these disadvantages and discriminations – which are of course very real and very harmful and deserve to be seen. It is also about problem solving, and hope. 

The systemic issue of mental illness and its manifestation in individual people’s lives is not a stand alone issue. So it can be overwhelming to consider in a wider context because how the hell are we supposed to solve everything? I get it. It can be overwhelming, scary, and sometimes makes me want to just give up. But what if we chose to see intersectionality as empowering and a source of hope? Because it means we’re not just isolated as mental health advocates, or people who care about climate justice, or people who are trying to solve poverty. It means we are united as people who care. Understanding intersectionality, and continuing to be aware of how our understanding and circumstances may shift, allows us to be more creative in our solutions and more effective in our actions. 

If we start to realise mental health care also means community care then we are not left helplessly shouting into an abyss; perhaps instead we are empowered to create a community event, or connect with friends in a more intentional way. If we realise mental health care also means food security, then we are empowered to donate to our local food banks and come up with innovative ways to share with our community. If we realise mental health care means antiracism then we are empowered to learn and be intentional in sharing this learning with the next generation. When we realise mental health care is intersectional, we actually create stronger bonds, stronger supports, and stronger futures. 

We cannot shut our eyes to the world around us. But we might have a little bit of power over how we choose to view it. This country is becoming more and more authoritarian, and I don’t think it is an exaggeration to say it is sliding towards fascism in many ways. 

From the 3rd May more laws restricting and criminalising protest – including union action! – will come into effect. Over the weekend over 50 people were arrested for protesting peacefully during the coronation ‘celebrations’ – which cost millions while more people than ever are below the poverty line. A country without protest is not a democracy. A country where the gap between rich and poor continues to widen with government support is not looking after its citizens. We cannot ignore this and we cannot allow this, and we have to recognise how it relates to all our social justice issues. How can we ever hope to see a country with good mental health if people do not have free speech and cannot afford to eat? 

The good news is, resistance isn’t one size fits all. And understanding intersectionality can allow us to fight back in an effective, loving way. If everyone who can supports their food bank and creates community driven initiatives to eradicate food insecurity, the government can’t ignore it. If the artists create art, and the people who can protest go to protests, and the workers all strike, then it sends a message loud and clear that they can try all they want, but we aren’t having it. We care about each other and we want to see a brighter future. And that big message starts with small actions. It starts with having a conversation, donating a can of beans, drawing a picture, and offering to help out a neighbour. Even if you’re only making a difference to one person, and even if that person is you, you are still making a difference. Never think you cannot make a difference; it’s at least worth a try. However that looks for you, even if it looks like rest right now. You matter. And it all intersects. 

Sending so much love and support to you all today xxx

Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

I Don’t Know What To Do

I sometimes call myself a mental health advocate. I’d like to say I am one, but sometimes I feel like I’m not. Because I don’t know what to do. 

We need more awareness, yes, but actual awareness, critical awareness of how we form our views of mental health and the intersectionality of societal issues. I can – to a point – help raise awareness, and I try to. But if I’m honest it feels a bit useless sometimes. I honestly have no idea how to make tangible change. Of course we can write letters and go to protests – but in the current political atmosphere I wonder if it’s doing anything at all; it’s hard to watch the government become what I genuinely believe is more and more fascist and not know a way forward. Then of course we can also make art, have conversations, create peer connections and connect with nature. This is generally what I focus on because it seems achievable, and I really do believe small changes build up and matter greatly. But underneath it all I am at a loss. 

Why am I telling you this? Because I think a lot of us feel helpless. And because I want to explain why I don’t share more actions to take – because I don’t know what actions to take. It’s something I want to focus on more, and I think maybe a good place to start is by sharing openly that I don’t know what to do. It’s easy for us to sit back and do nothing simply because we are unsure of what to do, or because we are afraid. The sense of hopelessness or helplessness is perhaps one of the most pernicious ills we have learnt; it separates us and takes away our power even further. Of course it’s understandable. How the hell do we stop climate change when the overwhelming majority of emissions come from huge corporations? How do we reform the mental health system when most people are unaware of its issues and the bodies in charge aren’t listening? I don’t know. But I think maybe, just maybe, it might start with people working to build communities again; to build connections again. 

I’m an 18 year old who can barely keep their own head above water some days. But I want to help. I want to connect and be a part of change. I want to listen and learn and build. I’m sure in the future I will think differently about some of the things I’ve already said and written; I’m sure I have and will get things wrong, even cause harm through mistakes. And you know what? That’s ok. Because fear of getting it wrong, of being helpless or not having a voice, are not worth staying silent. All we can do is do the best we know how to at the time and stay open to learning.

I don’t know how to begin to face the systematic issues with mental health treatment. I don’t know how to involve everyone in the conversation, how to raise my own voice without speaking over others. I don’t know if there should be no psychiatry at all (because it is absolutely a harmful system), or reform it, or if it is even possible to reform. I don’t know how we can use language differently and how it might help. I don’t know! But I want to find out. I want to listen to all the voices, I want to learn and I want to have a go. Yeah, we’ll probably get things wrong. But we have to try, right? 

If you have any resources, readings, ideas or anything else you’d like to share to help me (and others) grow in our action, please share them in the comments or via the contact page. 

Sending love and support to you all today xxx