Mental Illness Does Not Define Who I am

When I posted a blog about mental health discrimination and stigma about six months back, I'll admit that my experience with it was pretty limited. I'd experienced the odd sideways glance, some people were extra sensitive to my feelings, I was occasionally told to 'man up' or 'cheer up', but I never experienced what I believed was out right discrimination.

That's why, when I recently applied for a position in a summer camp in Canada for next year, I had no worries that my mental health issues would in any way impact my application. Having briefly touched down there last year whilst waiting for a transfer flight, I've since wanted to visit so I was pretty quick to fill out the application form through Camp America, so that I could do so whilst earning money to travel.

About a month ago, I received a reply (italicised below) which, in the short form, said that the company was unable to take my application further based on the information about my mental health that I had disclosed in my application.

"Based upon the information that you have provided, we may not be able to move further with your application this year. I know this news is disheartening but please allow me to explain the reason behind this decision.

Firstly let me state that Camp Canada in no way discriminates against anyone with mental health problems. However, in the past, the camps that we work with have taken on counsellors who have had a recent history of anxiety or other emotional problems and there have been some incidents that have caused the Canadian/American government to change their policies on the cultural exchange visa. Therefore, our camps are changing their application rules.

This means that camps in Canada will not hire applicants who have suffered from any mental or emotional disorders within the past two years. This is because this experience is also a job, and you would be responsible for the welfare of children throughout the day. Though the experience is fun and fulfilling, it is also tough. You will be in an unfamiliar environment and away from everything you know. Camp directors want to make sure their staff are capable of dealing with this and can keep the children safe."

The application asked me if I had ever had mental health issues. I answered the question honestly, making it clear that I had previously been diagnosed with depression and anxiety disorder but that I was physically and mentally fit to travel and work at the time. I was slightly concerned about disclosing the information, but I felt safer being truthful, and believed that it wouldn't be an issue.

When I read the response, I was obviously a bit upset that my application wasn't being taken any further. I completely understand the company's need for a policy, but the fact that I was being labelled as someone who was incapable of dealing with change, or unable to take responsibility for children's welfare based on an illness I was deemed to have recovered from upset me all the more. It made me feel foolish for ever being honest and annoyed at myself for ever being unwell. Things I really shouldn't have to feel.

The tone of the email upset me even more. I am fully aware that the experience is also a job. I am fully aware of the responsibilities and fully aware that it isn't something to be taken lightly. It annoys me that based on this experience, I'm unlikely to want to apply for this again, even when I have passed the two year mark. Why should I want to when I'm going to doubt myself and not feel trusted throughout the whole thing?

I don't believe that I'm incapable of looking after children, seeing as I've done so for much of my life with brothers and a sister all younger than me. If the company had asked, they would know that I studied abroad for a month last year whilst I was suffering with mental health issues, and that I coped considerably well in the situation. If I had any doubts about my ability to cope with the programme, I wouldn't have even considered filling out an application. I know my limits.

Personally, I think that having depression has made me a stronger and perhaps a healthier person. It's provided me with the skills to empathise and care for all types of people, and to deal with high pressured situations - situations, incidentally, that I'm sure I would face as a camp counsellor at a summer camp. Mental health discrimination was always something I feared facing before I came out of my mental health closet, but I never imagined my mental health issues would come back to haunt me when it came to the work place, especially when I was through the worst of my illness.

My mental health history really doesn't change who I am as a person. I am a 21-year-old woman who had depression, not a depressed woman. And, even though it doesn't sound like it, there's a big difference between the two. My mental health does not make up all of me. I am much, much more than an illness, and this summer camp is going to miss out on all of who I really am. I am not going to let an illness define me, and I'm not going to let anyone else define me in that way either.

Thanks for your discrimination and stigma

Each and every one of us and each and every one of you reading this post has mental health. It's a fact that we often forget, and it is a fact that we should endeavour to remember.

There's a one in eight chance of being diagnosed with breast cancer in your average woman's life. There's a one in ten chance of developing depression in any one person's life. One in four people have mental health issues and, yet, we're far more open to discussing one topic more than the other. You don't need to be a genius to work out which one it is.

Despite the fact that attitudes are different towards other health issues, and that attitudes towards issues such as sexuality, culture, ethnicity, gender and disabilities are changing, discrimination against people who are suffering with mental health problems are still very widespread. A survey carried out investigating these issues showed that one in ten face discrimination and stigma every single day. 28% of people surveyed waited over a year to tell their families about their mental illnesses and 8.5% of people still haven't told their families. When we think about it, that's a hell of a lot of people.

When we discuss the stigma that surrounds mental health, all we're really discussing is the fear that surrounds the stigma of mental health. People suffer in silence and they don't open up about their mental health because they're scared of what others might say or do to them. It's all about the fear of possibility.

Obviously, I don't really need to say that stigma is bad, but it is. Stigma only adds to the problems that people face when they have a mental illness. Avoidance of the very thing that upsets or distresses you based on your anxieties of other people and what they may or may not think is really not very different to any other social anxiety or OCD behaviour. 58% of people say that the stigma is worse than the illness itself. Stigma has increasingly become a part of the illness of mental health and that's pretty crap.

I used to be one of those people that feared opening up about my issues, because I was so scared that I would be discriminated against, and treated differently for my mental health issues. Unfortunately, in my case, I was right to be fearful. I was told to "man up" a lot of the time. I was told I didn't need the medication that was necessary for my wellbeing at the time. I was told to cheer up, and that things would look better in the morning (of course, it never did.) People treated me like a china doll the minute they found out I had depression and anxiety disorder, being extra sensitive about what they were saying around me for fear they would upset me further, and constantly watching me out of the corners of their eyes, It was really annoying and obviously, none of it helped. All the people who said those things and treated me differently hurt me in more ways than they could possibly know at the time. Now I see that they were, and maybe still are narrow minded and foolish. But, instead of being angry about it, and instead of feeling sad about it, I should thank them.

Now I look back on when I first came out of my mental health closet I realise that the stigma surrounding mental health that bred the way I was treated actually did me a favour in the long run. The attitude towards me after I came out made me feel pretty defeatist in the short term, (ironically really because everyone was trying to do the exact opposite.) But, in the long run, it spurred me on to get well. People telling me to cheer up, to snap out of it and to stop being so miserable made me realise that, firstly, I didn't need those people in my life and that, secondly, I shouldn't let a bunch of narrow minded and scared people made me feel worse about myself. Your fear of my illness made me realise how much I wanted to stop being ill and made me remove the negative aspects (i.e. you) from my life.

The stigma surrounding mental health is crap and it needs to change. We all know that it does. Why should people with mental health issues be treated any differently because they are struggling with an invisible illness rather than one that can be plainly seen? If we could rewrite the history of the world to make people see mental and physical health combined, then our world would probably be in a much better state mentally.

So thank you to all those people who told me to cheer up and concentrate on what matters or I would never amount to anything, because I'm currently typing this in The Times Newspaper offices in London where I'm on work experience, whilst also revising for an interview for a Masters Course at Cardiff University next week. Thank you to those who said I didn't need the medication because you were right. I probably won't need it very soon. Thank you to all those people who treated me like I was made of glass because I now feel like I'm made of steel and I feel much better for it. But mostly, thank you for spurring me on to get better with your prejudices and fear. I owe you all one.