Normalizing Conversations about Mental Health

**I originally wrote this post on October 10, for Facebook, in recognition of World Mental Health Day.**

When I was in college, I kept my antidepressants in an empty Oil of Olay jar so my roommates wouldn’t know I took them.

I felt like it was something I had to hide.

I have struggled with depression and anxiety, off and on, FOR DECADES.

I have always felt like it was something I had to hide.

But 1 in 5 Americans struggle with a diagnosable mental health condition every year.

I also have eczema and asthma. 1 in 10 Americans have eczema. 1 in 13 Americans have asthma. Those conditions are much less common, yet I have never once considered hiding them from anyone.

Today is World Mental Health Day, a day dedicated to raising awareness of mental health issues around the world.

Why is this important to me?

As I just explained, mental health conditions are very common. 1 in 5 people are affected. Statistically, 2 people on an NBA court at any given time have mental health conditions.

My brain is part of my body. When I talk about my overall health, it is imperative that I include my head as part of that conversation. Failure to think comprehensively is like buying a computer without a motherboard.

I talked with Max about World Mental Health Day last night and used my depression and anxiety as examples of what mental health could mean. He had no idea about this part of my life. This is a huge problem. If I want to normalize mental health conversations, I need to start in my own house.

Looking back through the years, I think my anxiety goes all the way back to first grade. FIRST GRADE! I think my depression popped up my sophomore year of high school. The first time I sought treatment was when I was 20. Feelings talk was just not part of social discussion back then. I had no idea that there was potential to feel better than I did. I cannot fathom the idea of my kids struggling like that. Maybe that’s why I have two social work degrees.

I prioritize my mental health e v e r y. s i n g l e. d a y. I wish you would, too. And I wish you would talk about it with me.

Here’s how I do it:

Over the past year, I have spent an inordinate amount of time getting to know myself better. I found an amazing therapist. I leaned into the idea of taking Lexapro. I discovered Glennon Doyle and starting reading and listening to everything she, Abby, and sister have to say. I avoid alcohol. I sleep more. I exercise less. I read. I spend time outside. I listen to what my body tells me. I say no. Like, a lot. And I write about the importance of openly discussing mental health issues.

The response I received from my social media circle was intense because my words hit home. There were dozens of comments, almost 100 reactions, a handful of private messages, and a share. I know in my heart of hearts that my message reached even more broadly, even if those people chose not to interact. Here are some things my people said to me when they wrapped their arms around me virtually:

“Love you.”

“Thank you.”

“As a fellow 1 in 5, I appreciate this so much.”

“Are you sure it’s only 1 in 5?”

“I’m with you, kid.”

“Every day is different but talking is #1 for me.”

“Proud of who you are, what you do, what you stand for, and how real you are.”

“Life is great and amazing and sometimes hard.”

“You are brave.”

“You are brave.”

“You are brave.”

The comment that stuck with me most is the last on the list. Bravery. The idea that sharing my feelings and embracing honestly about my mental health struggles should not be considered brave. It should be considered normal. It should be a part of who we are, as human beings, because WE ALL feel the feels in some way or another. Human connection consists of celebrations and sorrow and all the things in between.

So here’s your challenge. Start today. You don’t have to write about it in a blog or scream from a roof top. Tell one person about something in your day that saddened you, increased anxiety, hurt your feelings, or made you feel lonely. Then listen as your person does the same. Do it again tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that.

This is paying it forward - the emotional edition. And before we know it, the world will be a different place.