This year, for the second time, I volunteered to judge student videos for the Directing Change contest. This initiative is part of California's broader efforts to prevent suicide, reduce stigma and discrimination, and promote mental health and wellness. High school and college students create 60-second videos on one of two themes: Ending the Silence of Mental Illness, or Suicide Prevention. Last year I judged the suicide prevention category, and this year I judged the mental illness one, so I've gotten to see a good mix of videos. The videos are supposed to be geared towards young people (14-24), be hopeful in tone, and include resources for getting help and connecting with others.
I signed up to be a judge for this contest because I believe so deeply in this cause. Mental illness is seldom discussed in public except in the context of mass shootings and homelessness. But there are so many other faces of mental illness. We just don't recognize them because they look so ordinary. When people think of mental illness, they expect to see something frightening, but in reality, most of us have no idea how to recognize it when we see it. It could be in our quiet coworker, our smiley neighbor, our bus driver, or our own grandmother. There is really no way to know without talking about it. But many people, especially teens, struggle with how to do that.
The good news is teens want to talk about it. Just look at the popularity of the young adult book Thirteen Reasons Why, which is about a girl that records cassettes with all the reasons why she killed herself. When my mentee told me that she and all her friends were reading it and loving it, I picked it up right away because I wanted to see how such a dark story line would unfold and whether this message was actually healthy for teens. I didn't care for the writing or plot line myself, but what I realized is that this book is breaking the ice about suicide in a big way and connecting with a lot of emotions that many teens are unable to put into words themselves. I commend the book for that. It lets readers know that talking about suicide does not make a person more likely to go through with it. It's the silence that kills. And in what ways are we all complicit in that?
My friend recently posted a chilling story about a slew of teen suicides in Fairfax, Virginia. Many of the families of these teens had no idea what the teens were going through. Their kids never reached out for help, and it's easy to see why. Talking about pain, pressure, and loneliness takes an incredible amount of vulnerability, and too often in our society, the courage to do that is not rewarded. It is often met with shame, anger, or complete denial. Some kids like to rebel and stand out, but deep down, they all want approval and acceptance. It breaks my heart to pieces that for some teens, the fear of disappointing friends, parents, and teachers seems worse than facing death. Kids are literally killing themselves to prove they are strong. It is the worst paradox.
I speak from experience when I say that it is hard to be vulnerable, to ask for help, and to talk about those inner demons. I've lived much of my life keeping my struggles with depression hidden. It wasn't until I started doing policy research on mental health and read more about the history of mental health advocacy that I realized what an injustice it is that people are suffering and not able to talk about it. I used to be so afraid to tell my story. But slowly I have pushed myself to do it more and more because it is extremely healing. I talk about it with my close friends; I often share my experiences with professional audiences through my work; I have written about it online. In many ways I still am scared (hence the anonymity of the essay) because I know that many people, including employers and grad schools, look at mental illness as a bright red flag, signaling fragility and instability. But I have made a very conscious decision that I do not want to work for any company or attend any program that views mental illness this way. I see my experiences as an asset and an integral part of my being, and will never go back into that closet.
I have really wavered about how much to share here on this blog. It is one thing to put a story out there for strangers to see, but it's much more difficult to share with people I actually know because of the questions it might bring up. It's pretty darn uncomfortable, honestly. That's the nature of the beast though, otherwise we wouldn't need to have this discussion about stigma! But in the end, I feel like I have an obligation to help end the silence of mental illness. If you have been waiting for someone to start the conversation, I just did. I'm here to listen, and so are many others out there. I'm not done talking either. I have only scratched the surface of this topic today, but we've got to begin somewhere.
To get help or learn more about suicide prevention, visit the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. For information about mental health, check out SAMHSA, NAMI, or Each Mind Matters. Or just start with this video:
I signed up to be a judge for this contest because I believe so deeply in this cause. Mental illness is seldom discussed in public except in the context of mass shootings and homelessness. But there are so many other faces of mental illness. We just don't recognize them because they look so ordinary. When people think of mental illness, they expect to see something frightening, but in reality, most of us have no idea how to recognize it when we see it. It could be in our quiet coworker, our smiley neighbor, our bus driver, or our own grandmother. There is really no way to know without talking about it. But many people, especially teens, struggle with how to do that.
The good news is teens want to talk about it. Just look at the popularity of the young adult book Thirteen Reasons Why, which is about a girl that records cassettes with all the reasons why she killed herself. When my mentee told me that she and all her friends were reading it and loving it, I picked it up right away because I wanted to see how such a dark story line would unfold and whether this message was actually healthy for teens. I didn't care for the writing or plot line myself, but what I realized is that this book is breaking the ice about suicide in a big way and connecting with a lot of emotions that many teens are unable to put into words themselves. I commend the book for that. It lets readers know that talking about suicide does not make a person more likely to go through with it. It's the silence that kills. And in what ways are we all complicit in that?
My friend recently posted a chilling story about a slew of teen suicides in Fairfax, Virginia. Many of the families of these teens had no idea what the teens were going through. Their kids never reached out for help, and it's easy to see why. Talking about pain, pressure, and loneliness takes an incredible amount of vulnerability, and too often in our society, the courage to do that is not rewarded. It is often met with shame, anger, or complete denial. Some kids like to rebel and stand out, but deep down, they all want approval and acceptance. It breaks my heart to pieces that for some teens, the fear of disappointing friends, parents, and teachers seems worse than facing death. Kids are literally killing themselves to prove they are strong. It is the worst paradox.
I speak from experience when I say that it is hard to be vulnerable, to ask for help, and to talk about those inner demons. I've lived much of my life keeping my struggles with depression hidden. It wasn't until I started doing policy research on mental health and read more about the history of mental health advocacy that I realized what an injustice it is that people are suffering and not able to talk about it. I used to be so afraid to tell my story. But slowly I have pushed myself to do it more and more because it is extremely healing. I talk about it with my close friends; I often share my experiences with professional audiences through my work; I have written about it online. In many ways I still am scared (hence the anonymity of the essay) because I know that many people, including employers and grad schools, look at mental illness as a bright red flag, signaling fragility and instability. But I have made a very conscious decision that I do not want to work for any company or attend any program that views mental illness this way. I see my experiences as an asset and an integral part of my being, and will never go back into that closet.
I have really wavered about how much to share here on this blog. It is one thing to put a story out there for strangers to see, but it's much more difficult to share with people I actually know because of the questions it might bring up. It's pretty darn uncomfortable, honestly. That's the nature of the beast though, otherwise we wouldn't need to have this discussion about stigma! But in the end, I feel like I have an obligation to help end the silence of mental illness. If you have been waiting for someone to start the conversation, I just did. I'm here to listen, and so are many others out there. I'm not done talking either. I have only scratched the surface of this topic today, but we've got to begin somewhere.
To get help or learn more about suicide prevention, visit the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. For information about mental health, check out SAMHSA, NAMI, or Each Mind Matters. Or just start with this video:
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