2019 Mental Health Awareness Day

“Could you just please reassure her that she’s not ‘crazy?’” “Well, that depends on what you mean by ‘crazy.’” Ah, Dr. Becker. I will never forget sitting on that couch clenching my mother’s hand and having my life slipped out from underneath me. I was eleven years old and the first therapist I saw, who came highly recommended, told me that I would have to be succumb to a wheelchair and medications for the rest of my life. Okay, so maybe the medication part was accurate but I cannot even fathom what possessed this man to tell a child such horrifying, more importantly FALSE, information with such callous demeanor.

I am twenty-nine years old now. I am not now nor have I ever sat in a wheelchair and though I will not deny being “crazy,” I suspect my definition and the good doctor’s differ tremendously. (Side note: my mother once told me something that brought me relief as I hope it may do for some of you: “Crazy people don’t think they’re crazy.”) I digress. My life has been a difficult one. Anxiety wasn’t spoken about when I was younger. In fact, my parents urged me to keep it to myself; insisted that others wouldn’t understand. And while I know it came from a place of love and protection, I think this could have been one of the worst pieces of advice I have ever received.

It is Mental Health Awareness day in 2019. There’s a goddamn holiday dedicated to this community. Did you know that this day was originated in 1992? I’m guessing not. I’m not ancient. Far from it but I still grew up in a generation that’s probably first source of exposure to Obsessive Compulsive Disorder was that god awful TV show, MONK. The icon that portrayed us to the world was known as “The Defective Detective.” ‘Nough said. Fast forward to the 2010’s. In the show “AMERICAN HOUSEWIFE,” the youngest daughter clearly has OCD. Although the mother clearly states that that child is her favorite, she still cringes when she watches her daughter walk into school having to perform a ritual walking up the stairs. Mommy’s cute, little freak. I actually just watched the first four episodes of this show last night but after seeing how the daughter’s disorder is meant to be seen as quirky and comical, I don’t suspect I’ll be binging it again anytime soon. (I have a post I wrote five years ago titled “Obsessive Compulsive Darling,” in case you would like to gain more insight and delve into the mind of someone with OCD. ) I’m not saying we shouldn’t have a sense of humor and laugh at ourselves but hey, if Disney can have a black Little Mermaid and basically every show currently on prime time acknowledges and includes characters of the LGBT community with the normalcy it absolutely deserves, can’t our community be thrown a bone?

My point is, even after all the progress we’ve made through the years, a huge shadow of stigma lingers. People with mental illnesses are still so misunderstood and seen as “flawed.” I am well aware of how I am perceived to be a burden, even by the people who love me most. No, I’m not easy. It’s not easy to be my friend or my partner but I’m going to stop apologizing for that. We all have our baggage. My not being able to eat in front of others is not a hindrance. Having to step on certain leaves or cracks or touching a certain object to my elbows and knees and/or feet and hands; stopping on the side of the road because I’m having a panic attack will not alter the course of humanity, I assure you. I’m not hurting anyone. SO to the naysayers I say, judge all you want to, this is my struggle and no, there is absolutely nothing wrong me.

My parents, to this day, still implore me not to discuss my anxiety, OCD, ADD, PTSD, etc. or the medications I’m on and I get it, I do but how will anything ever change that way? How will people struggling feel less alone if we don’t speak up, if we don’t share our experiences, our struggles, our victories?

Maybe I’m not exactly sure what direction I meant this post to take. I think in order to properly relay the message I would like, there will need to be seven or eight more posts. Alas for now if there is any take away from my little rant, I hope it’s that none of us are alone, none of us have to hide who we are or feel shamed for it. If you don’t understand something, instead of judging it, ask questions. Be curious. I hope that people who up until now have only seen my shell see that there’s so much more going on behind that smile or that resting bitch face. Humans are complex beings, the world is not black and white, and thank God for that.

Anyhow, Happy Mental Health Awareness Day! Stay weird, stay crazy, stay curious, stay beautiful…

xo, gabby