Labeled Lives

There is a certain stigma that usually surrounds people with mental illnesses. Dangerous, crazy, violent, stupid, disabled, weak, are the usual judgments that are made about them because of this stigma. These negative labels often keep people from seeking help. They fear that friends, family and strangers will treat them with disdain and disrespect.

As much as I hate to admit it, I was one of those people who held a negative stereotypical image of the mentally ill. I was quick to make judgments and in my mind (and possibly outwardly) I had less respect for them, than so called normal people. I did not believe that the mentally ill were really capable of being productive members of society and I had it in my head that most if not all were violent. I was very harsh in my judgments.

I could say that I had those harsh judgments because of how the mentally ill are portrayed in the movies, or on TV. I could blame it on the fact that when there are news reports about the mentally ill, it seems that the news media picks the worst cases to talk about. I could even defend myself with the fact that my ideas came from outdated opinions about people with mental illnesses that seem to still persist in our society.

The truth is that I had a choice, I could have taken the time to learn more about mental illness and the people affected by it. I never did. I never believed that anyone in my family could be affected by a mental illness, much less me. Then I came up close and personal with it, and I was the one who had it.

Even when I was in very real trouble with my depression and knew it, my harsh judgments were still there. My own judgments got in the way of me seeking help before things came to head with my suicide attempt. I knew that if I thought that way about people with mental illnesses, my family would as well. I kept quiet, and I became more ill.

Once I started receiving help for my depression, I realized how wrong my judgments were. I also realized what my judgments (and how they kept me from seeking help) almost cost me.....my life. At the very least, since I refused to seek help for so long, my judgments allowed my depression to become worse.

Obviously through my treatments and my hospitalization I was exposed to many people with mental illnesses. I was surprised at how many of them seemed so "normal" to me. They were intelligent, well spoken people, and most were doing well with their recovery programs. They were certainly not weak people because they were working hard to manage their mental illnesses, even if it was still giving them difficulty. For the most part, the mentally ill people I was exposed to were much more generous and giving than many "normal" people I have met. Probably much more generous and giving than I might have been before my own diagnosis. Out of all the people I encountered, only a very minute portion were violent.

If things had been fair, I would have been treated to the same harsh judgments that I had about the mentally ill before my diagnosis. Things were not fair and I have been shown much kindness by the majority of the people who have had a hand in my recovery process.

I have learned a great many truths in this past year since I began my recovery process. I have learned that I have been a very judgmental person. Being such a judgmental person has caused myself and other people un-necessary pain. I have learned to let go of my judgments and take people as they are. I have come to realize that people with mental illnesses are as wide and varied as "normal" people are and that I should never, ever judge a person by their label.