Why is it that when we appear to have everything, sometimes we feel we have nothing? How does our mood change from upbeat, smiley, bouncy and optimistic to downbeat, frowny, still and gloomy; overnight, occasionally in a heartbeat? And more importantly, what can we do about it? If I knew the answers – and it is clearly that there is more than one answer, I’d be a consultant psychiatrist, making people better, maybe even curing them. But I’m not a consultant psychiatrist by any stretch of the imagination. To these questions, and more, I have no idea.
There are millions of us mental people who are having our lives affected negatively, ruined or even cut short by our demons and either I am becoming more and more aware of the suffering of others or the epidemic of poor mental health is spreading, like a particularly virulent virus, getting out of control.
People I never even dreamed would be susceptible to mental illness have been going down like nine pins. A close encounter with stress and anxiety all the way to a monumental meltdown. From your average Joe or Josephine to those I saw as powerful, successful and, yes, strong, surely immune from the chaos and destruction that poor mental health can cause. And I say to myself: “I never saw that coming”. Yet there was no reason I would see that coming. Those of us with psychological conditions can become consummate actors.
A friend who has been suffering refers to the acting aspect as being “part of the disease”, adding “and it is a disease”. Unless you have completely overwhelmed by depression or anxiety, for example, it’s possible to hang on in there, to flick a switch and turn on the schmooze. And when someone says, “How are you?” we reply, “Good thanks” and other such lies. Why do we do that? Well, because it’s easier – does the well-meaning person who asked really want to know one’s full mental history, warts and all? – and, frankly, in these so-called enlightened times, poor mental health is still part of a full on stigma. I think I need to elaborate on that.
When someone famous confesses to poor mental health issues, they are more likely these days to be garlanded with praise and admiration. “Fair play to X for sharing their problems. It’s brave and it helps others”. Maybe it does, but more often than not, it comes with, again, a well-intentioned, “It’s okay to not be okay” and “If you feel unwell, talk to someone, seek help”. Now, I am not saying don’t talk to someone and don’t seek help – I am saying the exact opposite, actually – but be careful who you talk to and, sadly, there is very little help out there. When a famous person points out the benefits of being “in therapy”, just be aware that it won’t come free from the NHS and they have probably paid a large wedge, a wedge that might be beyond most folk. See also ‘rehab’.
We’re actually going backwards in our attitudes to mental health if our current government is anything to go by. Pint-sized loser Rishi Sunak and his health secretary Melvyn Stride think that if you have depression, you should just suck it up and get back to work because after all everyone feels a bit shit sometimes. Clinical depression is essentially just another way of saying you’re a bit flaky and can’t cope with “the ups and downs of life”. When I heard Stride say the last bit, I had a near irresistible urge to detach his testicles from his body. I did resist but I admit that if had walked in the room he would not have enjoyed the experience.
Mine – it’s always about me in the end, I know: sorry – is a life where my depression can be measured by the ups and downs of depression, not life itself. Of course, I have days when I’m fed up and/or pissed off, but I know the difference between depression and being a bit fed up.
The “How are you?” question, and the various versions of it, necessitate nimble footwork. Rather than lying – “great, thanks” – it’s “still breathing” or “not quite pushing up daisies yet”. Because lying helps no one, least of all the liar who lies that they’re good when they aren’t.
You may be, my loyal reader, one of the secret depressives or anxiety sufferers and you too may operate the schmooze when you feel you need to. It’s self-distraction to save you from bursting into tears, or at least it is in my case. But the point I keep coming back to is that mental illness is a disease, as bad and destructive as many if not all physical diseases and similar to the worst in that there is often no cure.
I don’t know why moods suddenly turn, seemingly at random, with no obvious causal effects. But they do and that’s where the Academy Award standard of acting comes in. And in a way, I am glad I can slip effortlessly into a fake world of bonhomie at least for most of the time. Other times, I’ll just stay at home.
Don’t keep your issues to yourself, at least not all the time. There is hope even when it feels hopeless, but when we are far too far gone, well, there isn’t. For me, there’s always been something to live for. Keep fighting because that’s probably the same for you. Someone loves you and love, as we know, is the answer.
It isn’t okay to not be okay. It would be okay if there was a way of making you okay. Slogans are a useful tool, by drawing attention to something, but I look at not being okay as being something that needs to be addressed and put right. Words alone can’t do that.
