#BellLetsTalk…Let’s Get Real about Mental Health

In the Instagram world of perfect photos and seemingly perfect lives (and perfect latte art), it’s easy to hide what’s really going on. In honour of #BellLet’sTalk day, I’d like to share my story with you in the hope that it spurs more conversation - and less fear - of talking about mental health. Last year, I shared this story with my colleagues and now it’s time to share it with you. 

No one knew about my struggle with mental illness because I learned how to hide it so well over the years. I guess that's because it didn't really affect my performance or my ability to work, but it did affect my quality of life.

I've battled with a severe panic disorder since high school. When the panic attacks started, I didn't know what was happening, just that all of a sudden, I felt really hot and sweaty, like I was going to throw up. It would happen at night before bed and on weekends, and then it started to get worse and worse until I was having attacks almost daily.

I didn't tell anyone, not even my friends. I was involved in so many extracurriculars, and community organizations, and I was able to push through it at school and around people because I kept my mind busy. It was during the downtime – the second I didn't have something to do – that the anxiety would set in. 

I had this deep illogical fear that I was physically sick, that something was wrong with me. My brain convinced me that somehow I'd pass it on to my friends and family and they'd die because of it. It was completely debilitating. Anxiety loves fear, it thrives on fear. 

So when I moved to Toronto from my hometown in Nova Scotia to work for @CIBC, my panic disorder came with me. Then in my twenties, my boyfriend, who is my husband now, said it was time to get help. I started going for Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, and in those sessions, learned to reframe my thoughts by challenging the fears that would invite panic into my mind.

Thanks to my therapy sessions, each time an attack was about to start I had the tools to rewire the pattern of thoughts in my brain. I was taking care of myself, getting active and cycling, and making sure I was getting enough sleep. And slowly but surely, the attacks began to subside. It's now been over a year since my last panic attack and that is the most amazing thing to be able to say. I do not have panic disorder any more. 

If you're battling mental illness, start talking about it, be open to getting help, and realize it's okay to ask for support. Find out what you need to have a better quality of life - is it talking to a professional? Taking medication? Knowing yourself, knowing what you need, and feeling safe to speak up is incredibly important.

Sure I feel vulnerable opening up and sharing my story like this, but maybe this is the start of another kind of conversation and that's more exciting.