Breaking My Silence

If you have read my blog for any length of time, you may have noticed that one of the things I speak about most frequently - outside of the three Fs (faith, family, and fandoms) -- is my struggle with major depressive disorder. I'm sure there are some who read my words about this and wonder why on earth I would be so candid and open. I am certain that some of you who read this blog regularly may even find yourself squirming a little with discomfort when you see the words "depression" or "suicide" cross your screen.

Can I tell you something about that? It's okay. It's totally okay that you feel that way -- for now. 

Eventually, I'd like you and everyone else to get to a place where those words are less disturbing and are instead a cause for you to stop and listen with concern -- not just to my words but to anyone who might need to speak those words aloud.

I'll be honest. I've only just gotten to a place where those words no longer make me cringe and flinch. Even as easy as it's become for me to write about those things, I'll admit that there are still times when it is a little hard to say them out loud and face to face. But I do it anyway.

Why do I keep talking about this? Quite simply, because it's necessary.

Because silence, in the face of mental illness is no longer an option for me.

I have been silent for over 25 years about my struggle and about the role of mental illness in shaping the person I am today. I have been silent about my struggles with depression, PTSD, self-injury, and suicidal thinking. I have been silent out of fear of what others might think of me or how they might treat me if they ever found out. I have hid my secret from friends, neighbours, and close family. I have struggled with being totally honest with my husband, my therapist, and my dear friends who have supported me for fear of being rejected outright or having someone I love and respect give up on me.

Part of this struggle has come from having had some bad experiences with sharing my struggles. I had a therapist who violated my trust, a friend who got angry, a neighbour who immediately laid hands on me (in a charismatic prayer way), family and friends who acted embarrassed that I'd shared with them, and some family who suddenly became possessed by a desire to be overly supportive. On the flip side of this, I've had a therapist (Pendragon) who has supported me and helped me immensely, friends who have listened compassionately and not judged, numerous friends (and family) who have prayed for me when I've asked (and without my asking), and last but not least, my sweet husband Gray who has loved me and supported me without hesitation for as long as I've known him. 

So with such different responses, why continue to speak out and expose myself to possible judgement, betrayal, or anger?

Because silence helps no one.

Silence doesn't help increase awareness or education.
Silence keeps depression and other mental illness in the shadows.
Silence ensures that those who are struggling in the throes of suicidal thinking remain fearful of reaching out for help at a critical moment.
Silence perpetuates the stigmas surrounding mental illness in all its many forms.
Silence is an enemy to my own healing.
Silence begets more silence, more suffering and encourages others to suffer silently.
Silence is, in its own way, an agreement with the stigmas, misunderstandings, and confusion that surround mental illness and suicide.

So I refuse to be silent.

I will continue to speak out. I will speak through my own discomfort at times. I will continue to take risks in speaking to people one on one about my experiences with mental illness and suicide. I will continue to educate, answer questions, and advocate for better care, less stigma and a tomorrow where those who suffer do not feel the need to suffer in silence.

When Gray and I were just getting started in our relationship, he shared one of his favourite sci-fi/fantasy book series with me and in that series of books, I found one of my favourite quotes about sharing our struggles:

For my fellow book nerds, this quote is from Callahan's Crosstime Saloon by Spider Robinson. It is the first of a whole series of books featuring a barman named Mike Callahan and the very unique folks who show up at his bar, Callahan's Place. If you need a fun read and like stuff that is a little different from your average sci-fi/fantasy book, I highly recommend reading this book and its sequels.

Now I'm going to ask something of you.

If you've read this, would you please comment below and then share this post somewhere else online? You can share it on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, your own blog, via email, or wherever you like.

I know it's a little scary to think about doing something so vulnerable and open, but let me do the heavy lifting. Just share this post. You don't have to say why. The point is to share it to break the silence.

I believe it is important to keep this idea going. I'd like more people to feel free to share their stories and know that it's okay. I'm here. I'll read your story if you want to share it with me -- here in the comments or via email. I promise I'll reply. Maybe in all this sharing, we'll find a way to lessen the pain of mental illness and increase joy for everyone.

Will you help me?