Since the tragic news of Robin Williams death by suicide, I felt it would be appropriate to re-post this blog I wrote back in January during Mental health week titled ''How are you'' As many of you close to me know, this is a topic very true to my heart and of significant importance to me. All of us can play a role in dealing face to face with this disease. It matters not if you are a sufferer, the terrible thing about mental illness is that it can affect ANYONE. No, you are not immune, to strong, to tough, etc...it is no different then any other illness. Have a read; here it is again.
How are you? A question asked to us and by us, numerous times a day, almost every day. A question we ask our family members, our loved ones, our co-workers and often the first three words after hello that we ask when meeting a new acquaintance. What do those three words really mean? Do they have any value in a society now driven and primarily controlled by technology? Do you genuinely care when you ask the question? Is it really of much interest to you what the person replies back or what you reply when asked? After all, the general response is, ''fine, thank you''. Followed by them asking the same question of you and you responding the same way. On occasion ( especially those close to us) you might here in response to that question, '' like crap'', ''not so good'', ''been better'', ''not feeling well''. Do those responses garnish any more inquiry on your part? Or do you just generally say, '' that's to bad'', '' that sucks'' or '' well hope you feel better''. What if the person who answered you that, has no idea what to do to feel better?
He gets up every morning, it is a struggle. A battle to lift his legs over the edge of the bed and place his feet on the ground. He pauses there for a long time trying to figure out the right thing to tell himself to propel him upwards and forwards. When he finally does, he feels like his body is covered in molasses. Like his feet are stuck in quick sand. He stands in front of the bathroom mirror but he cannot see himself. He only sees a blank face staring back, like looking at a department store mannequin. He gets dressed, he cannot even remember what he wore the day before, he does not care. Downstairs he finds his family around the breakfast table. They are happy to see him. He does not know what he is when he sees them. They make small talk, he struggle to feel normal, to feel like he belongs. He tries to care about what they are saying but he is lost. The space he occupies feels like being in a row boat on the ocean. The seas are brutally rough and he feels like he is just clinging on for dear life. He gets in his car. It takes him 5 minutes before he turns the key. He sits in his garage with the door closed and wonders how long it would take for the carbon monoxide to put him to sleep if he just left the car running with the garage door down. Finally he opens the door and looks down the driveway but wonders which way he should turn this morning. As he drives he sees trees, he thinks about hanging himself. He sees those giant billboards towering high in the sky and wonders if they lock the ladders to the top of them. He thinks of throwing himself off of one. He passes a large semi trailer truck and wonders if his cars air bags would stop him from being killed is he turned the wheels into the front of the oncoming truck. He makes it to work. He goes into the office. A co-workers asks, ''hey, how are you today''? He responds, '' not so good'' the co worker states, '' that's to bad'' This man could be your grandfather, father, husband, brother, uncle, friend, your co-worker. Today he might not make it home.
She looks at herself in the mirror and feels fat. She feels ugly, disgusting, disproportionate. She is 5ft 6 inches tall and weighs 100 pounds. She is starving herself to death. She loves food, or hates food, she is no longer sure. She glances over at the Cosmo magazine on the bathroom toilet seat. She sees a model flaunting the latest sexy lingerie. She wants to be that. She wants to be her. She wants to look like her. She kneels down in front of the toilet, puts the magazine on the floor, lifts the seat and sticks her fingers down her throat till she has emptied her morning breakfast before it even had a chance to get to its intended destination. She wipes her face, she brushes her teeth, she fills her mouth with Listerine till she cannot take another drop. She holds it in her mouth, she feels like her gums are on fire. Finally she convinces herself to expel it from her mouth. She goes into her closet, everything she tries on is to small, to small because she believes her body is to fat. Nothing fits the way it is supposed to. Nothing makes her look like those models she saw last week in the mall fashion show. She tears up a shirt she bought only two weeks ago. Her friends tell her she looks great, that they wish they could be slim like her. That they could be a size zero too. She takes no joy in their comments, she feels fat. She knows what she has to do. She has to keep getting smaller. It is the only way she can feel whole. Her friends meet her for lunch, they ask her, ''how are you doing'' she responds, '' I feel gross today'', they respond, '' hell, you look fantastic''. She orders a salad, no dressing, and a glass of water. It does not matter though she has already spied the restaurant washroom and knows exactly where she will be going right after lunch. This woman could be your grandmother, mother, wife, sister, aunt, friend, or your co-worker. Sooner then later she is going to wilt away.
He could run like the wind. He was fast, no not fast; he was lightning. He knew he was headed for the big time. An athlete every major school wanted on their team. He craved the attention, he loved the spot light he wanted everyone to know his name. The pills helped him do that, they made him stronger, faster, smarter. He cannot remember when he first started taking them. He only remembers that he was slower then. He did not perform as well. Now he cannot live without them. They are his crutch, a trampoline, they are his ticket to stardom. He will not relinquish them. He cannot remember the last time he had fun. The last time he savoured victory with a clear conscious and a true heart. He does not even know who he is. Everyone tells him he is great, the best, awesome, incredible, he does not know anything else. He does not know who he is. He will keep taking the pills, his mind and body need them. His family needs for him to succeed, to go on to better things, to improve everyones quality of life. The whole thing is riding on his shoulders. He cannot fail, he will not fail. He sits in the locker room alone. He has already been there practicing an hour before the scheduled practice. He goes into the bathroom stall, he pulls out his sandwich bag. He takes 4 different pills and drops them one by one into his mouth. He hears some of his team mates arriving for practice he stuffs the bag into his track pants. As he enters the locker room a team mate yells, ''Hey how are you?'' he responds, ''I've been better''. The team mate responds, ''hey, man up buddy'' This boy could be your son, brother, nephew, Grandson, friend, or your class mate. Those pills will eventually destroy his mind and his life.
She wants to be part of the crowd. She wants so much to belong. She is being tormented. she has been bullied since 3rd grade. When she first got glasses. It has never stopped since. She has been bullied at school, on the way home, in the bus, by e-mail, and social web sites. She has no place of refuge. She know only fear and despair. There is no sanctuary, no place to hide. She feels exposed, all the time. She wants to be part of the group, she wants them to accept her. She has no idea how. Her mind tells her to do and act one way and her heart another. She struggle to find stability. Know one around her knows what she is going through. The school officials are all to busy patting themselves on the back for their bullying work shops and flyer's to even remotely care about her. She has convinced herself Her parents would not understand if she tried to explain it. She is intelligent, she is pretty, she is athletic. No one would understand how see wants out, how she believes the only way to save herself is to end herself. She wants help but know one understands that she does not know how to ask for it. The teacher in drama class sees the girl in class and asks, '' how are you doing today'' the girl responds, '' a little lost'' the teacher responds '' maybe you need a map'' This girl could be your daughter, your sister, your niece, your friend, your co-worker or class mate. Soon she might decide that the end is better then a new beginning.
All of these individuals are victims of some form of mental illness brought on by varying factors and environment. Sometimes that illness manifest itself for unknown reasons. Other times it it brought on by drugs, bullying, post traumatic stress, or the social environment the person finds them self in. It can be caused by many other factors. It is clear that no matter how much has been done to diminish the stigma of mental illness it still keeps hundreds of thousands of sufferers in the shadows. It is ironic that no one questions the cancer patient who smokes 2 packs of cigarettes a day, or the heart disease patient who drinks and eats way to much of all of what is not good for you. Yet if someone has a mental illness, perhaps brought on by drugs, or bullying or any other factor, many in our society judge them and take out their righteousness on them. Often you will hear them called weak, feeble, fakers. That they lack character or the ability to face the world. That the illness is all their fault. Well people it is not their faults. These are human beings who play a large factor in numerous people lives and contribute enormously to our society. They are victims of an illness. No different then any other illness you go to your doctor or local emergency room to have treated.
Mental illness deprives all of society of talent. It deprives it of individuals who could make a difference, who could make the world a better place. In Canada alone it is estimated that there were over 3,700 people aged 15 to 90 who committed suicide in 2011 ( Stats Canada). This number has remained static or unchanged since 2007. There is no telling how many of these suicides are directly attributable to mental illness. However it is safe to say the vast majority. This number does not count accidental overdoses of drugs, eating disorders or other events not directly attributed to mental illness but should be. The bottom line is this. The only way to stop mental illness from claiming those we care about and love is to make it socially acceptable to acknowledge that it is a problem that anyone can suffer from. That it can affect anyone. Don' t think so. Think again. I myself am speaking from first hand experience when I say anyone can become mentally distressed or ill. It is not a crime, it is not shameful. it does not make the person weak or any other stigma some people try to attach to it. These illnesses can in general be treated, the same way we treat all other serious diseases. People who suffer from mental illness and do get help, almost always end up getting better. Allowing them to continue to be active and important members of our society. These individuals want nothing more then to see the light, to find their way out. They simply need help getting there. No one needs to be lost to this disease. We can fix it.
This week is mental health awareness week in Canada. So next time someone asks you,'' how you are'' do not be afraid to tell them the truth. If you ask someone, ''how they are'' and you get a response like one of the ones in this article; perhaps take 5 minutes out of your busy day to ask more questions and get more information. You might possibly be the difference in that person making it to the next day, week, month or year. The 5 minutes of listening could be worth 50 years of life.........think about it.
Québec mental health hotline 1-866-277-3553
Ontario mental health hotline 1-866-531-2600
Alberta mental health hotline 1-877-303-2642
British Columbia mental health hotline 1-800-661-2121
New Brunswick mental health hotline 1-800-667-5005
Nova Scotia mental health hotline 1-877-521-1188
All other province numbers can be found on the Internet by typing ''Mental health hotline ( province name)'' into any search engine
