Time to End the Stigma

A year since my public announcement has come and gone.

I lived it. I learned from it. I am better for it.

It sure as hell was not a boring year for me and anyone associated with me.

And I used the words "I" and "me" about seven times total so far. It is not about me. Eight.

Something greater than me decided it wasn't my time to die. Decided there was a reason for me to stay on this planet. I know what that is now.

It cannot be said in so many words, but I am going to try.

I have been thinking about this for a few days now.

A friend I met through my journey recently said to me, "There is still a stigma out there for mental health when it comes to gaining, having, or losing a job."

Someone else suggested to me that it may be smart to not be so open about my illness on social media or in my blog. Try not to write the things I do.

Meeting a woman could be difficult. Hide the fact that I have Depression. Then get into a couple dates, or something more serious and say, "By the way, I suffer from major depression."

Basically, I am not going to do it how it has been historically done, I want to change people's lives. I cannot do that by doing what has already been done. I am going above and beyond. There will be obstacles for me.

I am different. I know I am different. And I also know I am not different because I have a Mental Illness. I am different because I choose to speak about it openly. I give the silence a voice. A voice that needs to be heard.

If I do not speak, who will?

If I do not write, who will?

Would someone hide the fact that they have cancer from an employer? Would they hide the fact that they have diabetes from an employer?

I am not going to back down. I never will.

This topic is of interest to me because I have no job and I am trying to get one as we speak. Right or wrong, I put it clearly in my cover letter that I have a mental illness. I do that so when the HR Department does a quick search of my Facebook or Twitter, there are no surprises. I am coming through the front door.

Perhaps I am being stupid or stubborn. Truly, I do not care of the judging. In my eyes, I am being strong and holding my ground firm. I am not hiding. I will never do that again. I am trying to be a launching pad for others. Not a doormat.

The moment I hide my illness and 'pretend' to be something I am not to gain employment is the moment I play right into the stigma that is attached to Mental Health.

Sadly, I see it first hand. I walked into a hospital a few weeks back. As I spoke to the triage nurse, I told her I am having suicidal thoughts and idealizations. She asked how severe were these thoughts?

She was just following protocol, I guess. Does it fucking matter how 'severe' my thoughts of suicide are?

"You know, I am thinking about tying weights to my ankles and jumping in a lake. I am not sure if I am going to do it tonight, but I am considering the idea a lot tonight."

Sorry dear, and it's not your fault, it's the system, but any suicidal thought for someone with Depression is a severe thought. In my mind, it is possible.

So, I told the nurse I do not feel safe by myself. I went back to the waiting room.

Within thirty minutes, someone came and summoned my name. I was shocked that I was called so soon. I am thinking this is great.

Wrong T.J.

So, I was placed in a room. I looked at what was available in that room. There were items there that I could have used to kill myself.

I saw a doctor that I assume was on call. I don't know. He asked a few question then leaves. I am still waiting.

And waiting.

I waited eight hours to see a mental health crisis team lead and a psychiatrist. That's too long. That happened in one of the newest hospitals in Nova Scotia. That was the doctor that said it may be Borderline Personality Disorder.

It took the doctor years of education and many dollars to take ten minutes to know me? Sorry, I am not a doctor, but you did not help. I don't care if that doctor reads this. Not my problem that the doctor was wrong. But it might be someone else's, unfortunately.

The mental health team crisis worker cared more about my well-being than the doctor.

All I wanted was to be admitted because I didn't feel safe. If there is no space, well that should be a sign that more needs to be done.

If the mental health sector of the health care in Nova Scotia is overwhelmed, try to find a solution rather than adding to the problem.

Obviously, I am OK. That visit done nothing to help me. Just opened my eyes.

That was my first hand experience recently.

Back to the employment search.

Who will dare hire a guy with major clinical depression?

'He's was in the looney bin. He has an addiction. Too much risk with him.'

How do you know?

You immediately see the illness. Not the person. You don't know me.

Hope the employees are treated better than me. Then again, you may not know they have an illness because you do not create a working environment where they can speak freely of their illness in fear they may lose their job.

I learned today that 1 in 5 Canadians suffer some kind of mental illness. I knew that. What I did not know was that stat only reflects the people that speak about their illness. Not the people that still hide it. So my question is, how many more people keep their illness quiet? The stat would change. I guarantee it. I respect that people do not want to share their illness to others. I understand why. I am just trying to change the societal stereotype people still have so more people can seek the proper help.

I am rambling on. Sorry. My point is that I am never going to hide the fact that I suffer from a mental illness. I am going to help end this stigma. This is my way of doing that. To talk about. But talk is cheap and now it's game time. Someone needs to step up to the plate.

I am trying to add to #BellLetsTalk. I don't know if I can trademark or patent the awareness idea, but it's now time to #TakeAction. Money has been raised. Time for someone or someones to put it to good use. I am a Canadian. I am using my freewill of speech to convey a message. I still know people that suffer silently because of the following reasons;

- Family do not understand/Will disown you
- Fear of losing employment/Not getting employment
- Fear of losing friends
- Fear of losing partner
- Fear of public rejection/Perception in community
- Not sure if they have an illness
- Were never educated on the topic
- Do not have the resources available for help

That's just what I know and have been told.

A lot of people took part in #BellLetsTalk day. Still, there are people that don't want to talk and the reason why is because of the external factors in their life.

There are a lot of hypocrites out there.

You are not going to scare me. You did for years. That time is over. And I am going to give strength to others to share their stories too and get the required help that is needed for them to continue to live their life.

I, along with others, are going to overcome the bureaucratic bullshit and nonsense. You will not stop me and others like me.

This is not a blog entry directed at anyone or any one organization. It's just me telling others how it really is in Nova Scotia and Newfoundland.

"Well, how do you know T.J.?", you may ask.

I will reply like this;

"People tell me their stories. They trust me more than health care professionals because I understand their struggles. They instill trust in me. Young and old talk to me. I been in the trenches. I know what they are talking about when they say they just want to die. I have compassion for them because I care about them. I may only know them for minutes, but where they trust me, I, in turn, give them my compassion and any help I can provide. I am going to help them."

I was dealt a shitty hand once upon a time. I had to play the cards I was dealt. I bluffed everyone for years. Now, I still have shitty cards, but instead of bluffing and losing, I now know when to fold and to play another hand. Yeah, I may not win every hand, but I am not losing them either. Moral of the story? I am still in the game, and doing pretty good with whatever cards are dealt to me daily.

Right or wrong......wait a minute.

It's right. It's right for me.

I do have a mental illness and I am not hiding it from anyone. I never will again. If you judge me on the illness I have, shame on you and you're a shallow person and truthfully, do not want you in my life. I do not fear rejection. I do not care about judgement. I will not be intimidated. I certainly will not go down without a fight.

Each day I am growing stronger. I have put things in perspective a little better than before. I am understanding life. Priorities change.

The mind of a child is a wonderful thing. My son looks at me and what does he see? He sees his daddy. That's all he sees. He loves me for being there for him. He does not see an illness because he is not infected with the negative tags that come with having a mental illness from others. Who said having a mental illness was a bad thing? Someone or a group of people decided it was a taboo topic.

Ironic really.

Everyone knows at least one person that suffers from a mental illness.

The irony? The person may not know they have a friend that suffers.

Maybe you should.

"You must do the things you think you cannot do"
                              - Eleanor Roosevelt

Yours Truly,

T.J. Smith