Tag Archive for: CARE Counseling

Are You A Chronic Self-Abandoner?

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Self-abandonment is a strange concept. How can you abandon yourself when you are always with you? If you’re well-schooled in the world of self-development, you may have an educated guess at what self-abandonment is: It’s when you don’t support yourself, right? Kind of.

Essentially, self-abandonment is when you reject, suppress or ignore part of yourself in real-time. In other words, you have a need or desire you want to meet, and (often on the spot) you make the decision not to meet it.

Example A: Jen comes home from a long, exhausting work week and is looking forward to resting. A friend calls, asking if she can come over to vent about her difficult relationship. While Jen knows what she wants, she still reluctantly tells her friend to come over.

Example B: Kyle is interested in studying a particular style of art that has excited him for years. But his friends poke fun at him, saying it’s a waste of time. Kyle despondently never enrolls in art class, despite his genuine interest.

In both cases, these individuals value the needs and opinions of others more than they value their own. They have an initial trajectory they are fairly certain about, but they abandon it as soon as they are “pressured” by others.

In a self-abandoner’s mind, the belief that their needs and desires either cannot be met or should not be met is a strong one. This belief leads to a continuous process of detachment, as the self-abandoner repeatedly makes decisions to ignore, repress or condemn their personal needs. Over time, they might even forget or lose the ability to identify their own needs.

This is a tough pattern that can lead in many negative directions. It can take us so far away from who we are that we find ourselves in a pattern of people-pleasing, settling or neglecting ourselves. Before long, our personal identities might even feel hazy. So, how can we move out of this pattern?

At its core, self-abandonment typically arises from a lack of self-trust. So, the fundamental solution to self-abandonment is self-trust and making a commitment to yourself. Anything that involves self-care, self-exploration or asserting yourself is a step in the right direction. Another part might be learning to handle peer pressure (yes, just like in high school!).

Here are two questions you can apply to any situation to determine if you are operating from self-abandonment:

  1. “For what reason am I making this decision?” If the answer involves guilt, shame, fear, timidity or generally negative emotions, you might be in abandonment mode.
  2. “If I were the only person on earth, would I still want to do ___?” This removes other people’s influence from your decision-making and frees you up to determine how you actually feel.

Remember: There’s no quick-and-easy solution. We don’t become self-abandoners from one decision, so we won’t change after one positive experience. Eventually, you’ll create a reservoir of experiences in which you trusted yourself and things worked out. With those in mind, you won’t default to self-abandonment. With those in mind, self-trust will come more naturally.

 

A mental health counseling grad student, Brianna runs ExistBetter.co, a blog that explores the nitty gritty of mental illness and self-development.

https://www.nami.org/Blogs/NAMI-Blog/April-2018/Are-You-a-Chronic-Self-Abandoner

Must I Tell My Boss I’m Absent Because of Mental Illness?

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I am in treatment (weekly therapy and a drug regimen) for clinical depression and a panic disorder. They are, for the most part, very well managed. However, even the most well managed mental illness has flare-ups, during which I find it difficult to get out of bed, am plagued with suicidal thoughts or am so panicked that I need to take medication to calm my heart rate. When these symptoms are occurring, the idea of being able to work is laughable.

These symptoms are not readily understood by my high-powered industry colleagues and bosses. There is a general feeling that “we all get anxious and sad; we buck up and push through.” Personal days and sick days are discouraged, and there are few light days. Moreover, although my co-workers are vaguely aware that I have a condition that requires weekly therapy, the existence of flare-ups like this carries, I feel, a heavy stigma that I am not “up to” our fast-paced job. This is not the case; I am an extremely productive and dedicated worker, and I love my job. These flare-ups happen less than once a month, and I am fastidious about ensuring that my work is covered appropriately when I am out.

My work is in law, with regular can’t-miss meetings with clients, such that a “taking a sick day” message to a boss will generally be met with: “Can you come in for this meeting/court date or call in to this or that?”; “Have you tried DayQuil?” etc. On days when I am so preoccupied with my depression symptoms that I cannot go in, I cannot meaningfully participate in “just one thing”; indeed, trying to do so often makes it more difficult for me to recover. I have found that the easiest way to avoid these requests is to lie and explain that I am ill with a particularly nasty symptom, such as a high fever, strep throat or food poisoning. This normally halts questioning, as those conditions are deemed “serious enough” to warrant a day off. Given the stigma associated with mental health issues, is it ethical for me to lie about the specifics of my symptoms to my boss, or is this similar to calling in a “sick day” when in fact you’re taking a personal day, an act I would consider unethical? 

Let’s assume that, over all, your firm has reason to agree that you are, as you say, “an extremely productive and dedicated worker.” Your inclination to be more open about your illness is a good one: When more people like you choose to be open about their struggles, understanding will increase, and the stigma you mention will be reduced. And that’s likely to help people in your situation work productively.

The decision you make will depend on how supportive you think your boss will be, what the culture of your workplace is and how much your contributions are valued. You’ll also want to explain the reality of the disorder — that it’s not a matter of “bucking up and pushing through.” Your employers can accommodate your needs only if you inform them properly of your disability. This would both make your life easier and allow them to plan better; one of the many bad consequences of prejudice is that these win-win outcomes aren’t achieved.

But suppose you decide that your firm would penalize you for being honest and that you can get away with inventing physical illnesses to cover your needs. Would the fact that your employers would respond badly to your being honest justify your continued lying? It would: In general, it’s permissible to mislead people who will do you serious and unwarranted wrong if you tell the truth.

Because you work in the law, you’ll know that the Americans With Disabilities Act requires employers (with 15 or more workers) to make “reasonable accommodations” for conditions that are legally considered disabilities. So if candor proved damaging to your conditions of employment, you might have a remedy. Whether an illness, like depression, is disabling depends, according to the law, on whether it “substantially limits one or more major life activities.” Of course, the law says, as you’d expect, that work is a major life activity. And it was amended in 2008 to define disabilities in a way that explicitly includes conditions like yours that are only episodically disabling, so your clinical depression should meet the test. But in the end, it would be for lawyers to advise you on that question.

A final paradox: If you do go on lying to your employers, they will be justified in penalizing you if they find out. They’re unlikely to be impressed by the argument that you were convinced that they would have behaved badly if you had told them. So I would urge you to consider the harder path of telling the truth. After all, if you’re a terrific worker, they ought to know you’re worth a good deal to them.

Kwame Anthony Appiah teaches philosophy at N.Y.U. He is the author of “Cosmopolitanism” and “The Honor Code: How Moral Revolutions Happen.

The Double Standard Of Mental Illness

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Mental health conditions are not the only illnesses to suffer from stigma: AIDS, leprosy and obesity are others. However, Princess Diana shook hands and shook the world at the same time. Antibiotics took care of leprosy and obesity receives a lot of attention from the media. But mental health…it still languishes in the shadows.

It receives occasional celebrity glances, but I feel like these campaigns actually move mental health further away from understanding. The answer is not more exposure to mental health, but more education. First Aid, CPR and sexual education can be found in schools, gyms and offices. Yet CBT could be mistaken for a television channel and mindfulness still invokes eye-rolling.

Everyone should be minding their own mental health, but it’s also important to know the signs in others—which is hard to do if you don’t know what you’re looking for.

If a family member walked into your living room, bent over in pain and screaming for help, what would you do? You would help, of course. And generally, you’d know what to do. If you saw blood, you’d try to stop it. If the person was choking, you’d open their airway. You wouldn’t be performing surgery if that was required, but you could call a doctor or drive them to a hospital or go to a pharmacy and get painkillers.

But with mental health, the picture is so different. We don’t do any of the above. We generally ignore the symptoms, often only seeing them in hindsight. Then we say, “Cheer up!” “Things aren’t that bad!” “Look on the bright side!” In the same way that these phrases will not cure a burst appendix, they can’t cure a bout of depression either.

For the most part, but by no means always, a person experiencing mental illness will present as withdrawn, detached or dissociated from reality. But because they’re not screaming in pain or doubled over, we think (misguidedly) that a few feel-good phrases are the best medicine. But the real best way to help when you see these behavioral changes—no matter how subtle they may be—is to recognize that this is the scream you’re looking for. It’s silent, so you must be on high alert, but just like stroke symptoms, the faster you act, the better the outcome is going to be.

 

Sympathy and empathy is always with the person experiencing the mental illness. And rightly so. Mental illness often feels like being at the bottom of a well you cannot climb out of. And like any illness, you feel sick. Some days, you feel sick every minute.

But there is an army of people struggling as well because mental illness is one of the hardest, most frustrating, most guilt-inducing illnesses to care for. Every caregiver berates themselves for the time they lost their temper, their patience or their cool. Not to mention the guilt and the unease that travels with them every time they leave the house or if their phone rings unexpectedly—the permanency of being on edge, the constant companion that is worry.

But most of all, every caregiver carries the same gnawing question: What if they could have caught their loved one’s illness sooner? What if they missed something—a clue, a sign?

Caregivers and individuals are somehow both expected to recognize symptoms, understand them and then get ourselves or our loved ones the right kind of help in an area of medicine where even the professionals seem to struggle to diagnose clearly. But how can we do that if we’re not properly educated first?

 

Michelle Walshe teaches teenagers in a College of Further Education in Dublin. This is a full-time job, inside and outside the classroom. Any spare time she has, she spends reading and writing. Michelle has had a number of articles published in the national media in Ireland. She’d lived in America, Australia, Switzerland, Germany and Morocco but home is where her family is and that is Ireland. Michelle has spent the last year taking care of her mother, who experiences bipolar disorder. Check out her blog at www.thesparklyshell.com.

https://www.nami.org/Blogs/NAMI-Blog/April-2018/The-Double-Standard-of-Mental-Illness

LGBT people are prone to mental illness. It’s a truth we shouldn’t shy away from

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I almost didn’t write this. It wasn’t from not wanting to. I cradled my head in my hands, desperate to contribute to the reams of social media positivity I had seen surrounding Mental Health Awareness Week.

I almost didn’t – couldn’t – because I was depressed.

There came a certain point in my experience of being LGBT where I accepted that I had to be strong and uncompromising in the face of disapproving glances and withering remarks. I made a pact to throw myself into my community with zeal, no matter how exhausting, and to make full use of the privileges I was afforded in the tolerant metropolis I’d landed in.

And yet, for some reason, I find this an incredibly difficult attitude to transfer over to my struggle with depression. I will share with my co-workers that I am going on a date with a man or going to an LGBT-themed event with an almost belligerent pride, but am overwhelmed with fear in having to admit to those same people that I’m leaving slightly early to see my therapist or that I need to take some time off due to another episode.

Indeed, the word “depression” still has a bite to it, in the way that the word “gay” did when I first dared to say it to someone else in reference to myself. The tone of my voice takes on an odd quality as I approach it in a sentence, to the point where I sound intolerably meek by the time “depression” tumbles out.

The thing is, in many cases, mental illness and being queer go hand in hand. It’s an uncomfortable but important reality that LGBT youth are four times more likely to kill themselves than their heterosexual counterparts. More than half of individuals who identify as transgender experience depression or anxiety. Even among Stonewall’s own staff, people who dedicate themselves to the betterment and improved health of our community, 86% have experienced mental health issues first-hand. It’s a morbid point to make, but it makes perfect sense that we, as a community, struggle disproportionately.

At a recent event I attended, set up to train LGBT role models to visit schools and teach children about homophobia, no one explicitly mentioned their struggles with mental illness. We told one another stories of how we had come to accept ourselves in the face of adversity, talking in riddles about “dark times” or “feeling down” or being a “bit too much of a party animal”. But these problems have other names – depression, anxiety, addiction – that we consistently avoid, despite being in a community in which a large percentage of us will have undergone similar experiences.

And this phenomenon replays itself over and over. Despite there being a common understanding between me and my queer friends that we’ve probably all been vilified in the same way and made to feel a similar flavour of inadequate, we will rarely acknowledge, even within the safe boundaries of friendship, that this has had a lasting impact on our ability to maintain a healthy self-image.

But part of being proud of who we are as LGBT people is being able to be open about the struggles we’ve faced. It’s in naming and wearing the uncomfortable badges of anxiety, depression and addiction that we take the first step towards fully accepting mental illness as an important part of our collective identity. After all, how can we be true role models to the next generation if we refuse to tell the whole story?

And so, this Mental Health Awareness Week, I’m issuing a challenge to my community. If you are LGBT and suffer from a mental illness, be defiant in your acceptance of it in the same way that you would about your sexuality or gender identity. Bring it up, speak it out and feel sure that your voice, however seemingly small or insignificant, is a valid one. After all, we have been, and will always be, a community of fighters – it’s about time we dared to show our battle scars.

By Alexander Leon

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2017/may/12/lgbt-mental-health-sexuality-gender-identity

How I Healed Myself Of Shame

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I can’t remember a time when I didn’t feel shame. But I do have evidence that there was once a time when I was shame free. I have a photograph of me as a little baby, smiling with a twinkle in my eye. I look radiant and filled with joy. I have another photo of me at four years old, in which I am frowning, and I look defiant and lost. The twinkle in my eye has been replaced with a dark, empty look.

What had occurred that had taken away the joyous smile on my face and replaced it with darkness, emptiness and hatred?

The answer: shame. Shame replaced my innocence, my joy, my exuberance for life. Shame caused me to build a wall of protection and defiance. Who was I defending myself against? My mother, a woman who was so full of shame herself that she couldn’t help but project it onto me.

After being neglected and emotionally abused by my mother, sexually abused at nine and raped at twelve, I found myself riddled with shame and the belief that I was unlovable and rotten inside. I began acting out by shoplifting. I was angry at my mother, the men who had abused me and at all authority figures. I wanted to get back at everyone who had taken advantage of me. After I was finally caught and brought home in a cop car, my mother gave up on me.

Fortunately, I didn’t give up on myself. I knew there was goodness in me and I fought to find it. I turned to solitude and introspection and began to find the pieces of myself I discarded when trying to shield myself from further harm.

Here’s how I worked to heal myself and combat my feelings of shame—and how you can, too:

    1. Stop blaming yourself for the abuse. There is absolutely nothing a child can do that warrants a parent emotionally or physically abusing them, and there is absolutely nothing a child can do to cause someone to sexually abuse them. You did not cause your abuser to mistreat you.

 

    1. Give your shame back to your abusers. Parents often project their own shame onto their children, as was the case with my mother, who had me out of wedlock and felt horrible shame because of it. The following exercise will help you give your shame back to your abuser:
      • Imagine “going inside your body” to look for shame. Some see shame as a cloud of blackness. Others, as an ache in their stomach or a pain in their heart. Wherever you sense shame, imagine taking it and throwing it back at your abuser(s).

 

    1. Gain an understanding as to why you behaved as you did. Instead of viewing yourself as “bad” for acting out (if you did), begin to view your negative behaviors as attempts to cope with the abuse. The following behaviors are some of the most common coping mechanisms in former victims of childhood abuse:
      • Eating disorders: bingeing, compulsive overeating and emotional eating.
      • Self-injury: cutting, burning, head banging or any other form of self-harm.
      • Difficulties with sexual adjustment: sexualizing relationships, becoming hypersexual, avoiding sexual contact or alternating between these two extremes.

 

    1. Show self-compassion. Compassion is the antidote to shame. It acts to neutralize the poison of shame, to remove the toxins created by shame. The goal is to treat yourself in a loving, kind and supportive way. Think of a phrase to soothe and encourage yourself, look at yourself in the mirror, make eye contact and say this phrase with certainty.

 

  1. Provide yourself with forgiveness. Self-forgiveness is different from letting yourself off the hook or making excuses for negative behavior. The more shame you heal, the more clearly you’ll be able to see yourself. Instead of hardening your heart and pushing people away, you’ll become more receptive to others. It’s important to work towards forgiving yourself for: the abuse itself, the ways you hurt others because of your own abusive experiences, and the ways you have harmed yourself.

Don’t let shame take over your life. It took me many years to rid myself of the shame that followed me nearly all my life. The important thing is that you just begin to heal your shame, so it doesn’t dictate your life.

 

Beverly Engel has been a practicing psychologist for 35 years and is an internationally recognized psychotherapist and acclaimed advocate for victims of sexual, physical, and emotional abuse. She is the author of twenty-two self-help books and Raising Myself: A Memoir of Neglect, Shame, and Growing Up Too Soon. In addition to her professional work, Engel frequently lends her expertise to national television talk shows.

https://www.nami.org/Blogs/NAMI-Blog/April-2018/How-I-Healed-Myself-of-Shame

5 Myths We’re Taught About Relationships

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We’re taught a lot of myths when we’re children: “If you cross your eyes, they’ll get stuck!” “You can’t go swimming for 30 minutes after eating!” “If you touch a toad, you’ll get warts!” We’re also taught myths about relationships, like: “Compromise is key!” “Just be yourself!” “There is a ‘right’ person out there for everyone.”

We practice these myths from the time we first wink at, message or talk to someone. And by trying to fit our relationships into these myths, we create exactly the kinds of relationships we don’t want. Then we sit back and wonder, “Why am I always drawn to unhealthy relationships?”

Because relationships are so important to our well-being, keeping these myths alive can worsen depression, anxiety or other conditions and symptoms we may have. So, let’s look at five common relationship myths and how we have the power to break out of them.

Myth #1 – Healthy Relationships Aren’t Possible When Mental Illness Is Present

Connection is an essential part of mental health and can improve mental illness symptoms. The key is keeping up with your own treatment and letting the other person know how they can support your efforts.

While it is true that certain symptoms can add challenges when it comes to creating healthy relationships, thinking “I can’t be in a relationship because I’m depressed” is what might keep a person isolated and alone. If depression is interfering with your ability to create new and healthy relationships, then prioritize your mental health. Seek help and find coping mechanisms that work for you, putting you on the path to getting the healthy relationships we all need.

Myth #2 – Compromise Is 50/50

Compromise is when I give up something I don’t want to give up, and you give up something you don’t want to give up in the name of cooperation. In reality, compromise is a shortcut to working out conflict. Instead, explain why you want what you want and listen to what the other person is saying. Enter a dialogue and work out your differences together. Your relationship will be healthier and will evolve, and through that evolution, you’ll feel closer.

For example, if you’re experiencing symptoms of mental illness, rather than “give up” a much-needed yoga session for your household responsibilities, ask your loved one what you want and need from them while you’re taking care of your symptoms. Be clear on what’s going on for you. Instead of wanting to hide what you’re going through or compromising on your recovery, be clear and follow through on what is important to you.

Myth #3 – Being Loving Creates A Healthy Relationship

Being loving towards your significant other is important, yes, but love presents itself in a multitude of ways. Sometimes “being loving” means being more assertive, quieter, more giving or less giving. Sometimes it means setting limits, creating boundaries or stepping back from the relationship. Whatever it is, healthy behavior leads to healthier relationships.

Caregivers walk this fine line every day. The personal story “How To Love Someone With A Mental Illness” gives good, practical advice on walking this line, like use empathy and validation; learn about the symptoms and stop taking them personally; learn treatment options, and share them in a way that doesn’t try to persuade or have the other person follow your agenda; do not try to “fix” your loved one; build a community of supportive people around you; and, remember, healing is a process that takes time.

Myth #4 – Relationships Are How To Find Yourself

Relationships are not about being yourself or finding yourself—they’re about developing yourself. Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote that in order to be happy, one has to learn how to develop different sensibilities to different situations. For example, if you live with mental illness, and your symptoms are flaring, it’s important to learn what you need to develop about yourself so you can cope or manage them in a way that doesn’t significantly impact the people around you, or yourself. If you’re not sure how to do this, you can develop these skills through healthy communication and counseling. You don’t need to be perfect by any means, but there’s always room for growth.

Myth #5 – There Is A “Right Person” For Everyone

When we spend our energy looking for Mr./Mrs. Right, we give up our power to create what we want. The power to create the world we want is contained in the many relationships we have. Even if we’re depressed or anxious, experience mood swings or other symptoms, we have the power to shape the relationships in our lives to increase our well-being.

And we do this by making the decision to do so and then “leading” others into healthier ways of interacting. Not in a controlling or domineering way, but by example—by showing, “This is the kind of relationship I want in my life, and I’m going to act in ways that make it happen.”

So, take a step back from whatever relationship you’re in and clear all the “noise” out of your head. Then define the kind of relationship you want—not the kind of relationship that looks nice on television or the kind of relationship your parents or friends want you to have. After you do that, decide what you might need to develop about yourself to achieve that relationship and start doing it. It won’t be long before the kinds of relationships you want start to manifest in your life.

We can all take a lesson from Gloria Steinem who said, “Far too many people are looking for the right person, instead of trying to bethe right person.”

 

Larry Shushansky has seen thousands of individuals, couples and families over 35 years as a counselor. Through this and the process he used to get clean from his alcohol and drug addiction, Larry has developed the concept of Independent Enough. Follow him on Facebook here. You can also access his blog through his website at Independentenough.com

Suicide prevention text services expand statewide in MN

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Life-saving services will reach more people throughout Minnesota

April 2, 2018
Contact:
Media inquiries only
Sarah Berg
Communications
651-431-4901
Minnesotans across the state can now access suicide prevention and mental health crisis texting services 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
As of April 1, 2018, people who text MN to 741741 will be connected with a trained counselor who will help defuse the crisis and connect the texter to local resources. The service helps people contemplating suicide and facing mental health issues.
Minnesota has had text suicide prevention services since 2011, but they have only been available in 54 of 87 counties, plus tribal nations. Crisis Text Line will offer suicide prevention and education efforts in all Minnesota counties and tribal nations, including, for the first time, the Twin Cities metro area.
“It’s important that we reach people where they are at, and text-based services such as Crisis Text Line are one vital way to do that,” said Human Services Assistant Commissioner Claire Wilson. “It’s especially crucial that we reach youth with these services, and we all know that texting has fast become a preferred way of communication.”
Crisis Text Line, a non-profit that has worked nationally since 2013, is the state’s sole provider for this service as of April 1. Crisis Text Line handles 50,000 messages per month — more than 20 million messages since 2013 — from across the country, connecting people to local resources in their communities. For callers who are in the most distress, the average wait time for a response is only 39 seconds.
Crisis counselors at Crisis Text Line undergo a six-week, 30-hour training program. Supervisors are mental health professionals with either master’s degrees or extensive experience in the field of suicide prevention.
The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 also provides 24/7, free and confidential support for people in distress, as well as prevention and crisis resources.
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Is your stress changing my brain?

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Jaideep Bains, professor in the Department of Physiology and Pharmacology, and Toni-Lee Sterley, postdoctoral fellow in Bains’ lab and the study’s lead author.
Credit: Adrian Shellard, Hotchkiss Brain Institute.

In a new study in Nature Neuroscience, Jaideep Bains, PhD, and his team at the Cumming School of Medicine’s Hotchkiss Brain Institute (HBI), at the University of Calgary have discovered that stress transmitted from others can change the brain in the same way as a real stress does. The study, in mice, also shows that the effects of stress on the brain are reversed in female mice following a social interaction. This was not true for male mice.

“Brain changes associated with stress underpin many mental illnesses including PTSD, anxiety disorders and depression,” says Bains, professor in the Department of Physiology and Pharmacology and member of the HBI. “Recent studies indicate that stress and emotions can be ‘contagious’. Whether this has lasting consequences for the brain is not known.”

The Bains research team studied the effects of stress in pairs of male or female mice. They removed one mouse from each pair and exposed it to a mild stress before returning it to its partner. They then examined the responses of a specific population of cells, specifically CRH neurons which control the brain’s response to stress, in each mouse, which revealed that networks in the brains of both the stressed mouse and naïve partner were altered in the same way.

The study’s lead author, Toni-Lee Sterley, a postdoctoral associate in Bains’ lab said, “What was remarkable was that CRH neurons from the partners, who were not themselves exposed to an actual stress, showed changes that were identical to those we measured in the stressed mice.”

Next, the team used optogenetic approaches to engineer these neurons so that they could either turn them on or off with light. When the team silenced these neurons during stress, they prevented changes in the brain that would normally take place after stress. When they silenced the neurons in the partner during its interaction with a stressed individual, the stress did not transfer to the partner. Remarkably, when they activated these neurons using light in one mouse, even in the absence of stress, the brain of the mouse receiving light and that of the partner were changed just as they would be after a real stress.

The team discovered that the activation of these CRH neurons causes the release of a chemical signal, an ‘alarm pheromone’, from the mouse that alerts the partner. The partner who detects the signal can in turn alert additional members of the group. This propagation of stress signals reveals a key mechanism for transmission of information that may be critical in the formation of social networks in various species.

Another advantage of social networks is their ability to buffer the effects of adverse events. The Bains team also found evidence for buffering of stress, but this was selective. They noticed that in females the residual effects of stress on CRH neurons were cut almost in half following time with unstressed partners. The same was not true for males.

Bains suggests that these findings may also be present in humans. “We readily communicate our stress to others, sometimes without even knowing it. There is even evidence that some symptoms of stress can persist in family and loved ones of individuals who suffer from PTSD. On the flip side, the ability to sense another’s emotional state is a key part of creating and building social bonds.”

This research from the Bains lab indicates that stress and social interactions are intricately linked. The consequences of these interactions can be long-lasting and may influence behaviours at a later time.

Story Source:

Materials provided by University of Calgary. Note: Content may be edited for style and length.

Journal Reference:

  1. Toni-Lee Sterley, Dinara Baimoukhametova, Tamás Füzesi, Agnieszka A. Zurek, Nuria Daviu, Neilen P. Rasiah, David Rosenegger, Jaideep S. Bains. Social transmission and buffering of synaptic changes after stress. Nature Neuroscience, 2018; DOI: 10.1038/s41593-017-0044-6

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2018/03/180308143212.htm

Mental Health Conditions Are Legitimate Health Conditions

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It is widely accepted that if you have a health problem, you would see a medical professional who specializes in that problem’s proper treatment. If you have high cholesterol or are at risk of a heart attack, you see a cardiologist. If you have digestive problems, you see a gastroenterologist. If you have acne or other skin problems, you see a dermatologist.

But if you are faced with a mental health problem, is your first instinct to see a mental health professional?

Society has taught many of us to answer no. At least, this was the case for me when I was away at college. At the time, I attempted to balance academics, extracurricular activities and a part-time job—all while neglecting my own well-being. My solo circus act eventually came to a head one day in my foreign language class. I felt anxiety taking over my body, and I began crying uncontrollably. When my professor walked in, I rushed up to him and felt my throat tightening. Somehow, I managed to speak through my tears.

“I can’t be in class today,” I said between sobs. He nodded and encouraged me to speak with him during his office hours later that day. When we met, everything that had been going on in my mind poured out. I told my professor that my friend wanted to die and had attempted suicide over the weekend. I felt powerless and out of control. I couldn’t think straight. Then, my professor told me something that had honestly not occurred to me until that very moment.

“I am sorry to hear this. I really think you should go to the counseling center on campus. I think they can help you,” he recommended.

It was as if a wave of clarity hit me. Why didn’t I think of that? Why had I been isolating myself in my dorm room, sitting alone in fear? I hadn’t even considered going to the health center, let alone the counseling center. Looking back, I realize that it was because I never considered my mental health to be a health problem. I didn’t realize that my brain was just as important as the rest of the organs in my body.

The Brain And Mental Health

The brain is the most complex organ in our body and we’re constantly learning about how mental health conditions “live,” function and develop inside our brains. Additionally, mental health conditions can be hard to treat, as there is no one-size-fits-all treatment plan. Two individuals with bipolar disorder may respond very differently to the same medication. Mental illnesses are often far more nuanced than physical illnesses—they’re not a perfected science. Perhaps this is why society has a hard time considering mental health conditions “actual” health conditions.

What is indisputable is that mental health conditions are in fact legitimate health conditions, just like physical illnesses. Additionally, half of all mental health conditions begin by age 14, and 75% of mental health conditions develop by age 24. That is why early engagement and support are crucial to improving outcomes and increasing the promise of recovery. Additionally, mental health conditions can be lifelong conditions. However, with the right treatment plan, living well is possible.

Myself? After several years of pretending that I didn’t need help anymore, I decided to seek out a therapist. I’ve since been diagnosed with anxiety and depression. And with the support of loved ones, I go to therapy every week and am getting the treatment I need. I now see the importance of addressing any concerns with my health, especially my mental health, before they become serious.

Isn’t it time we all saw mental health conditions as legitimate health conditions?

 

Ryann Tanap is manager of social media and digital assets at NAMI.

https://www.nami.org/Blogs/NAMI-Blog/March-2018/Mental-Health-Conditions-are-Legitimate-Health-Con

How Depression Made Me A Man

/in /by

“Be strong!”

“Toughen up!”

“Don’t cry!”

Never did someone stand over me as a kid and yell, “Let it out! It’s okay to cry! It’s human to hurt!” From my football coaches to my own father, it seems as though the social norm for men is to be some kind of impenetrable mountain of muscle that feels no pain and has no emotion. If we’re not hunting or fighting or eating a bloody, rare steak, then we’re not men. As a kid, I idolized the manly behemoths on TV. From Arnold Schwarzenegger to Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, I wanted to be just like them. And I didn’t only want to mimic their physical appearance, but I wanted to be as happy and carefree as they seemed.

Our culture depicts men as heroes and symbols of strength and popularity, almost to the point of being invincible. Every little boy wants to be invincible. When my parents fought—yelling and breaking things in the house—all I wanted to be was invincible against how sad they made me feel. I wanted to be invincible against the feelings I had when that girl I had a crush on in 5th grade said, “No thanks, you’re too fat for me” after I finally worked up the courage to ask her to be my girlfriend; instead, I ran away and cried in the boy’s bathroom during second period. I wanted to be invincible when my youth football coach called me a “pussy” because I got hit and I said it hurt; instead, I questioned why feeling pain made me less of a man.

All these feelings, emotions and a twisted view of masculinity had a hold on me. Rather than accept and process my emotions, I learned to ignore and compartmentalize them. I kept my issues and pains to myself and tried my hardest to push them down as deep and far away from the surface as I could.

Then, the day came when the flood couldn’t be held back any longer and the levees broke. For so long I had hidden my pain, my confusion, my depression and I had become good at pretending to be “okay” with everything life was throwing at me. But one day it was not “okay” anymore. My mental illness had been ignored for so long and it would not be quieted any longer.

I couldn’t find any more strength or courage or fight just to keep those around me from finding out how bad I truly felt. I was so conditioned to “man up” that when the pain, sorrow and thoughts of suicide ran through my mind, I had no answer. I couldn’t yell or puff my chest at depression. Depression didn’t care how much I could lift or what car I drove or how many girls I had been with. Depression knew the real me. It knew the little boy who could never face his real problems head-on because the society in which he grew up wouldn’t let him. He was too busy pretending to be strong, too busy pretending to be a “man” to admit he lived with depression.

After my attempted suicide and rehabilitation, things started to become clearer. I learned that pain, sorrow, anger and sadness are a part of life—emotions don’t care if you are a man or woman or household pet. For the first time, I could accept and acknowledge my weaknesses and my pain. Finally, I found myself and have never felt stronger or more of a man.

Coming out about my depression was one of the most freeing and courageous things I have ever done. No longer am I silent or fearful about who I really am. I am comfortable and confident enough in myself to accept and face my demons. I’m no longer ashamed of my depression. And being self-aware and brave enough to face my emotions fills me with more manly strength and pride than any action hero ever did.

I can now step in front of my mental illness and accept it as a part of me, instead of always living in its shadow. And I’m here to tell you fellas to be bold and fearless about who you are. Be strong enough to admit your pains. Be courageous to acknowledge your struggles—regardless of how “un-manly” they may seem.

Depression affects 6 million men per year. So, next time you’re in the locker room talking, I hope that the conversation becomes deeper than football plays and girls. For being a man is what we men make it.

 

Rob “Roro” Asmar is a chef and restaurateur in the DC area. He passionately advocates for mental health through his volunteer and awareness raising efforts and seeks to break the stigma surrounding mental health & men. His open and positive attitude are expressed through his social media platform @RoroMeetsWorld where you can find his cooking and refreshing take on life. 

https://www.nami.org/Blogs/NAMI-Blog/March-2018/How-Depression-Made-Me-a-Man