March 17, 2015. To most, this was just another Saint Patrick's Day. Most probably don't remember that specific date. But, I do.
That was the date I ended up in the ER with my first and, thankfully only, full blown panic attack. For weeks leading up to that date, I was finding myself short of breath with a heart racing so fast, I thought I would pass out sometimes. I would attempt to calm myself by deep breathing and often resorted to putting my hand over my heart and just applying pressure. And I did a lot of praying.
By March 17th, I couldn't take it anymore. I finally admitted to my mom what I had been going through. She called her nurse friend who had me go take my blood pressure. I don't remember the numbers, but they were extremely high and she told me to go in somewhere.
I spent the afternoon and evening in the ER, first hooked up to an EKG to be sure I wasn't having a heart attack. Nope. All good. Once they ruled that out, the rest was a blur to me. In the end, the official diagnosis was "heart palpitations". Thanks guys. Big help.
But, it was a big help in that I finally addressed some issues I had been having personally. I had been internalizing some pretty big issues and taking on some problems that weren't mine to be taking on. I needed that wake up call to right my ship, so to speak.
BUT, I don't share that story with many people. I haven't until now, anyway. Why? I figured not everyone needs to know my struggles. I didn't want to appear weak or for it to seem like my faith was wavering. I was embarrassed.
As I see the news of a second high profile person taking their life just this week, my heart aches. As a sweet friend shared with me the pain of mental illness that has visited her family in a devastating way this past year, my heart ached. As I think of the children of Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain who have lost their parents this week, my heart aches.
Why is depression, anxiety and the like taboo in this society? Why is it that we can talk about cancer freely, but not bi-polar? Why is is that when someone announces they have cancer, we start Go Fund Me accounts, throw benefits and offer to start a Meal Train, but those that are fighting depression and can't get out of bed that day, we talk amongst ourselves and suggest they snap out of it? Why is it that someone with MS, ALS, Alzheimer's, etc., is treated with respect and dignity, but someone with anxiety isn't?
Mental illness has directly affected my family in a profound way. It has been devastating, difficult, painful and gut-wrenching. I also hate that is has to be called "mental illness", further giving these illnesses of bi-polar, anxiety and depression the stigma of "crazy illnesses". Why can't they just be illnesses? Suicides have not occurred in my family, but they could have, they've been close.
Why am I bringing that up? Because it's time to stop hiding and start living. Live your truth. Live your life - flaws, illnesses, pain and all. If Hollywood could successfully start their #metoo movement last year to step out of the darkness that violence against women was hiding, I propose that we, those who have been directly or indirectly affected by "mental illnesses" stand up and cry #nomore.
We cannot stand for the stigma of mental illness any more. #nomore We cannot allow our friends and family to suffer in silence any more. #nomore We cannot talk about others dealing with issues we cannot understand. #nomore We cannot let another person take their life without at least trying to reach out to them. #nomore We cannot sit idly by assuming others are okay. #nomore We cannot assume our friends and family can snap out it. #nomore We cannot allow others to make light of this extremely real and dangerous illness anymore. #nomore
We were created with such purpose. But some are dealing with demons, pain and illnesses that threaten to steal their purpose, have already stolen their joy and are fighting to just take their next breath, at times. Fight for your friends and family.
Anthony Bourdain was featured recently in People magazine. In the article, he is quoted as saying, "The point is, it's not about me, it's getting people to a place where they feel comfortable enough to say interesting things about who they are, where they come from and what makes them happy." Haunting, isn't it? He apparently didn't feel comfortable enough to say what made him happy or unhappy... He also said that one of his secrets from the set was that it was all or nothing. "We don't do retakes. If I have to repeat something, I am completely insincere and this entire enterprise is false." It was all or nothing in all he did and sadly it cost him his life.
We can't save everyone. I don't know what could have been done to keep Kate Spade or Anthony Bourdain on this earth a little bit longer. But, as a country, as friends, as relatives, we owe it to each other to stop the stigma of mental illness and fight for each other.
I stand up and say #nomore. Will you?
That was the date I ended up in the ER with my first and, thankfully only, full blown panic attack. For weeks leading up to that date, I was finding myself short of breath with a heart racing so fast, I thought I would pass out sometimes. I would attempt to calm myself by deep breathing and often resorted to putting my hand over my heart and just applying pressure. And I did a lot of praying.
By March 17th, I couldn't take it anymore. I finally admitted to my mom what I had been going through. She called her nurse friend who had me go take my blood pressure. I don't remember the numbers, but they were extremely high and she told me to go in somewhere.
I spent the afternoon and evening in the ER, first hooked up to an EKG to be sure I wasn't having a heart attack. Nope. All good. Once they ruled that out, the rest was a blur to me. In the end, the official diagnosis was "heart palpitations". Thanks guys. Big help.
But, it was a big help in that I finally addressed some issues I had been having personally. I had been internalizing some pretty big issues and taking on some problems that weren't mine to be taking on. I needed that wake up call to right my ship, so to speak.
BUT, I don't share that story with many people. I haven't until now, anyway. Why? I figured not everyone needs to know my struggles. I didn't want to appear weak or for it to seem like my faith was wavering. I was embarrassed.
As I see the news of a second high profile person taking their life just this week, my heart aches. As a sweet friend shared with me the pain of mental illness that has visited her family in a devastating way this past year, my heart ached. As I think of the children of Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain who have lost their parents this week, my heart aches.
Why is depression, anxiety and the like taboo in this society? Why is it that we can talk about cancer freely, but not bi-polar? Why is is that when someone announces they have cancer, we start Go Fund Me accounts, throw benefits and offer to start a Meal Train, but those that are fighting depression and can't get out of bed that day, we talk amongst ourselves and suggest they snap out of it? Why is it that someone with MS, ALS, Alzheimer's, etc., is treated with respect and dignity, but someone with anxiety isn't?
Mental illness has directly affected my family in a profound way. It has been devastating, difficult, painful and gut-wrenching. I also hate that is has to be called "mental illness", further giving these illnesses of bi-polar, anxiety and depression the stigma of "crazy illnesses". Why can't they just be illnesses? Suicides have not occurred in my family, but they could have, they've been close.
Why am I bringing that up? Because it's time to stop hiding and start living. Live your truth. Live your life - flaws, illnesses, pain and all. If Hollywood could successfully start their #metoo movement last year to step out of the darkness that violence against women was hiding, I propose that we, those who have been directly or indirectly affected by "mental illnesses" stand up and cry #nomore.
We cannot stand for the stigma of mental illness any more. #nomore We cannot allow our friends and family to suffer in silence any more. #nomore We cannot talk about others dealing with issues we cannot understand. #nomore We cannot let another person take their life without at least trying to reach out to them. #nomore We cannot sit idly by assuming others are okay. #nomore We cannot assume our friends and family can snap out it. #nomore We cannot allow others to make light of this extremely real and dangerous illness anymore. #nomore
We were created with such purpose. But some are dealing with demons, pain and illnesses that threaten to steal their purpose, have already stolen their joy and are fighting to just take their next breath, at times. Fight for your friends and family.
Anthony Bourdain was featured recently in People magazine. In the article, he is quoted as saying, "The point is, it's not about me, it's getting people to a place where they feel comfortable enough to say interesting things about who they are, where they come from and what makes them happy." Haunting, isn't it? He apparently didn't feel comfortable enough to say what made him happy or unhappy... He also said that one of his secrets from the set was that it was all or nothing. "We don't do retakes. If I have to repeat something, I am completely insincere and this entire enterprise is false." It was all or nothing in all he did and sadly it cost him his life.
We can't save everyone. I don't know what could have been done to keep Kate Spade or Anthony Bourdain on this earth a little bit longer. But, as a country, as friends, as relatives, we owe it to each other to stop the stigma of mental illness and fight for each other.
I stand up and say #nomore. Will you?
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