The way mental illness is portrayed in the U.S. is wrong. Depression is not always laying in bed crying; it can also be numbness. Anxiety is not always being jittery and on edge; it can also be traumatizing phobias. Eating disorders are not always eating nothing; they can also be counting calories and bingeing and purging. There is no set formula for how a specific mental illness functions. Yet when one does not seem to be unhappy or be worried, the problem can be dismissed or refuted altogether. The person suffering may be seen as weird or crazy. We as a society must work to end this stigma.
There is a widespread misconception that seeing an illness in a physical manifestation is more believable and more “real” than one not visible. Mental illness is just as painful as a migraine or the flu. Anxiety disorders are the most prevalent mental illnesses in the U.S. According to NAMI, the National Alliance on Mental Illness, “an estimated 40 million adults in the U.S., or 18 percent, have an anxiety disorder. Approximately 8 percent of children and teenagers experience the negative impact of an anxiety disorder at school and at home.” Refusing to acknowledge this presence does not serve to advocate for those who suffer from debilitating panic attacks, from a fear of being in public or social situations, from traumatic flashbacks and nightmares or from a ritualistic set of obsessions.
People with mental illnesses are not crazy or dangerous. One in four Americans will suffer from a mental illness during the course of their life. There is no reason that a concern this large should be considered weird or embarrassing. A person’s feelings, no matter how strange, should always be heard. No one should be forced to conquer their mental illness on their own; to expect that is simply irrational and impossible. We may not have the tools or the knowledge that we need to do it all by ourselves. Maybe we don’t know how many calories to eat; maybe we don’t know how to get out of bed in the morning; maybe we don’t know how to live a day without saying “what if.” That’s more than OK — admitting that we need more support is something worth being commended for. It’s not easy to let down your guard after holding up a fortress for so long. It’s not easy to let people in to help, no matter how badly that they say you need it.
What’s important is that we seek the help that we need. I speak from experience — my demons of OCD and depression have threatened to tear me down for years. I have ritualistically cleaned for days, I have laid in bed unable to force myself out, I have counted and re-counted, and checked and re-checked. But I’ve survived. We are stronger than our mental illnesses. We are worth it and loved. We all have something valuable to contribute. It is so easy to allow ourselves to feel sorry for ourselves, to not seek help because we are afraid of the backlash; but the consequences resulting from these actions are no more detrimental than those of the mental illness itself. You have faced your hardest moments and you’re still here. Take care of yourself and surround yourself with people who support you in doing so.