Confronting Depression—and Stigma

The following first-person account was submitted to Mental Health America's realLIVES project, a new online initiative that invites people who struggle with mental illnesses to break the silence, bust the stigma and share their stories. realLIVES stories will be posted to our Web site this soon. Visit www.mentalhealthamerica.net and click on the realLIVES icon.

by Jennifer in Texas

My first diagnosis of depression was at age 24. I was starting my final year of college and found myself completely devoid of motivation. This was not my usual behavior. I was scared. I had no idea what was wrong with me. All I knew was, I felt hollow. I just wanted sleep, food, and to be left alone. For the first time in my life, I had suicidal ideations. Frightened, I called the local mental health facility. They talked me into admitting myself (in hindsight, outpatient care would have been a much better choice). The psychiatrist prescribed me an antidepressant. It worked. I took it for the prescribed yearlong period, then stopped.

It was several years before the depression came back. During my previous bout with it, I didn't hesitate to get help—I had been on my parents' health insurance. This time, however, I was on my own. When I began to seek help, I quickly discovered the phenomena of mental health disparity. I had to call my insurance company at a "special" phone number, to find out how much treatment I was "allowed" to receive. The entire process of trying to get help made me feel marginalized and humiliated—thus adding to the crushing oppressiveness of the disease itself!

Additionally, I felt the need to keep my illness a secret. If my employers and coworkers found out, would they always treat me differently? Would they adopt the attitude of, "once a crazy, always a crazy?"

Would I be labeled unstable, or undependable, though I had NEVER shown any indication of such, even during the worst of my depression?

The reason I am writing this is, I am still afraid of these perceptions. I don't want to be afraid of stigma anymore. I want the ability to say, "I am a survivor of mental illness" with the same courage and conviction of a cancer survivor. I want to be able to get treatment without having to call a "special number," only to be told that I'm allowed to be ill "x number of times per year." I want the public to know that I am a productive member of society; I am not violent; and that the portrait the media paints is, in most cases, wrong.