Maybe the most interesting aspect of meeting survivors is how many ways this happened to all of us. I’ve yet to meet a survivor who has said that they tell people about their trauma and are always believed, taken seriously, and encouraged to continue telling their story. It’s not that they don’t occasionally hear that from an individual, but it is always the exception instead of the rule.
I think this is interesting. Of course, access to a park or walkable neighborhoods would lead to better mental health outcomes. At least that is what we’d expect. But for some young people, when that park or neighborhood isn’t safe, it might turn into yet another place to be hyperalert and anxious about.
It took me a long time to be comfortable with what happened. Most of that was internal, the embarrassment of being the guy who had public mental health issues and spent a long time in therapy, and trying to build a new life. Part of it was also watching people be uncomfortable in my presence. I didn’t have a choice about who knew about it, and I learned to embrace it as part of my story. That didn’t happen immediately.
Can you imagine the double blow it must be to have your spouse struggling with addiction or severe mental illness, and know that your friends are likely avoiding you as well? Is there stigma directed at you for being married to someone with mental health issues?
They are correct in adding that it exists on a spectrum, and while it may serve us when things are very stressful beyond our control, it can also become debilitating in its own way. Still, I think we all dissociate from time to time, and in our current social climate, it might not be the worst thing. We need to buffer ourselves and set boundaries that allow us to continue with our lives, even as things are messy around us.
It seems many parents want schools to do more in this space, which makes sense, because mental health issues only get worse when kids grow up without support.
