Why I'm Not Ashamed to Talk About Mental Illness

Those that know me may be shocked to know. I've not always been an outgoing person. As a child, I experienced close family loss; I was smaller than everyone else in my age group( still to this day (@lilfil); I had a terrible stutter, had to attend speech lessons and refused to take phone calls other than to those in my family. Talking to people worried me.?

What if I misspoke? What if they thought I sounded dumb? What if I didn't make sense??

So, what did I do? I joined the Army at 16 (this would either break me or make me), and I can recall being pulled up on my shiny bbbbbbbbbbbbboots, and having to march up to explain my Number rank and name to get wages, but was so nervous I was sent to the back every time I made a mistake or stuttered, yes I was the last to get paid each week. The reports during my early years in the Army was

"This soldier needs to be brought out of his shell if he is to progress"

However, I continued and grew with confidence, and the anxiety of the stutter, being smaller than everyone else, seems to get better. I became a PTI, a Trainer, a Section commander, a Leader. I was healed I was sorted, well so I thought. Throughout my career like many serving, I was subjected to very painful experiences, harrowing ordeals and experienced things that are so deeply etched in my brain, I feel they have left a scar. But this was a very masculine job, leading troops, I had to brush this off and push it aside, and the job had to be done- and if I don't say so myself, it was done well. I noticed at one pint , things were not too good and I spoke to my Doctor (please note this was a civilian doctor not military) and was told, "look at you, you are fit and healthy successful, nothing to worry about, just forget these things and move on and man up", This was possibly the worst piece of advice I was ever given.

Now I look back over these 22 years, and I realise now I was operating with an immeasurable weight on my shoulders that was preventing me from mentally improving, accepting and dealing with these issues, I knew I had to get to the bottom of what was going on and try to resolve it, I pushed for better mental health support for all returning soldiers (which I am happy to say is a normal procedure now). But for me personally, I learned

When it came back, it came back hard.

I feel that the years of burying the issues have made it harder for me to unbury and find the start or any specific points to address; I personally went through eating disorders, being treated for depression and even attempting to end my life at one very shallow point. I would find my heart would race, my palms would sweat, and I'd eventually enter into a state of distress for no logical reason. My worrying and overthinking became unmanageable, and I found that I only had enough energy to keep myself functioning, forcing my health and social life to the back burner.

I found the constant feeling as though I could not navigate social situations; I found myself spending the majority of my time in bed without any motivation to get up. Anxiety paired with depression was an impossible team for me to combat on my own. I knew what I was experiencing was abnormal, so I sought answers from a professional. Doing so did not work for me previously.

Talking about my mental disorders made me feel like an outsider.

If faced with sickness, I went to the doctor. When I had a toothache, I paid a visit to my dentist. So, when my mental and emotional well-being was off-balance, my natural reaction was to visit a psychiatrist specialising in this category. But I felt the air thicken whenever I spoke openly about therapy sessions or medication, even with my family and close friends. The stigma and shame that came?with being transparent about what was going on in my head?really sucked. Intellectually, I knew that one in four people were affected by some mental illness each year, so why did I feel so discouraged to talk about mine?

But I knew it wasn't my fault that I had anxiety and depression.

Reflecting on my family's history of mental illness and my life experiences helped me understand that having mental disorders wasn't something I could have prevented.?No one?asks for a mental illness, so no one should be blamed or shamed for having one. A lack of understanding can cause people battling a mental disorder to feel that it is their fault for "being this/that way." But, accepting that my feelings and depression onset was out of my control helped me be less hard on myself and get the absolute most out of my treatment.

Receiving treatment wasn't a sign of weakness; it was a sign of strength.

I saw it as courageous that I was able to throw up my arms and admit that I couldn't "tough it out." Having an incredibly understanding and supportive family also didn't hurt when the time came to ask for help. After consulting them and my doctor, we came up with a treatment plan that I was on board with. A few years ago, I chose to begin taking a medication that helps with my anxiety and depression. My prescription,?paired with my drive and action to make change for others, provided invaluable support and has helped me live?without?apprehension or fear. Since then, I'm able to speak openly, in front of hundreds, tell people my story in-depth and use my experience to let people understand; you can survive and lead a great life.

Also, I no longer go to bed with uneasiness that I'll have no motivation to get up in the morning. Sharing has given me balance, and I?know?I was strong enough to ask for it and encourage others to do so.

I wasn't the only one.

It was easy to feel isolated when I was experiencing something the majority of people might not have to go through. But I quickly discovered that some of those closest to me were fighting mental battles of their own. A lifelong role model, a best friend, and a member of my immediate family were just a few of the people who chose to confide in me about their past or current struggles with mental disorders. I found comfort in that some of the most intelligent, well-rounded, successful people in my life had or were experiencing something similar to me.

My mental illnesses do not define me.

The people I mentioned above helped me realise that it's okay that my brain might not be "normal." I am at peace with this, as my mental disorder do not determine my character or capabilities. If anything, they make me a more compassionate and resilient person so that I wouldn't change anything. Mental illness is a part of me, and talking about that makes me feel empowered, not ashamed.

I'm proud not to be normal, as To be number 1 you have to be ODD, I wasn't others to understand that mental health does not define you. If anyone would like to spend some time, I am always up to talk with people.

I find exercise helps raise the mood, even on those difficult days. It works. Join me for some exercise at www.findyourhappypace.com, or contact me for further help and talking about it may be the hardest decision but the most rewarding.