The "Get Well Card Incident"

After several months of fighting my mental illness (clinical depression) at home with zero contact from my employer, except for my manager and the HR case worker assigned to me, I received a get well card. It was signed by all the members of my team, as well as several other colleagues. It should have felt good to receive it, but it didn’t. The fact that it came strangely late into my leave was one thing; the other was that they had only signed their first names. No comments, notes, or well-wishes were written—as if they didn’t know what to say.

But that’s only part one of the “get well card incident.” The second part came a few months later, after I had returned to work. Another colleague fell ill, this time with a serious virus that kept him in hospital for several weeks. We were all concerned, and naturally within a few days of him falling ill, someone organized a get well card for everyone to sign. On a massive, oversized card, every square inch was filled with thoughtful notes and comments. They wished he’d get well and come back soon; they wrote that he was missed, that we were all pulling for him to recover.

I was glad to have the chance to sign the card and add my own note. I thought what everyone wrote, and the sheer size of the card, would lift his spirits. It felt great to contribute. Everything about it felt right, appropriate.

However, as I walked back to my office, I was overwhelmed by a surge of anger that seemed to come from nowhere. In fact, I was furious. It took me a while to realize I was reacting to the injustice of the two situations. Why was his illness worthy of this fast, positive response, while mine was not? Why did everyone know the appropriate response to his physical illness but not to my mental illness?

My anger wasn’t directed at my colleagues for their response to my sick leave, nor was it at the timely, positive response given to our colleague in the hospital. I was angry that something as ridiculous and unnecessary as stigma could create such completely disparate responses to two similar situations. And I was disappointed in myself that I’d been a part of the problem, allowing self-stigma to guide my actions.

Self-stigma—applying the stigma commonly felt towards mental illness to oneself—is a dangerous trap for anyone experiencing a mental illness. When you feel ashamed, guilty, confused, and afraid of others’ opinions about an illness you are facing, how are you supposed to respond in a healthy, pro-active way?

Situations like this “get well card incident” are still common in workplaces, and in many cases, they lead directly to losses in productivity. That may not seem like an obvious outcome; however, when employees see overt examples of stigma towards mental illness in their workplace, it significantly changes their behavior if they experience the symptoms of such an illness.

For example, they are likely to delay seeking treatment, which results in presenteeism (when someone attempts to work through an illness rather than disclose it). In addition, if they do need to take a leave of absence as a result of mental illness, the return to work can be fraught with fear, discomfort, and a feeling they no longer belong.

In effect, this lack of support in cases of mental illness is costing billions each year, but it doesn’t have to be this way. We can learn to respond to mental illness in the workplace in the same thoughtful way we already respond to absences caused by physical illnesses.

Jason Finucan

Founder, StigmaZero | Author | Instructor | Inspirational Speaker | Consultant

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