A friend’s tough question about my mental health taught me an important lesson

“I can’t live like this.”

Those were the words I said to my mother during a severe panic attack a few months ago.

She sat with me as I drove away, but afterwards, when it was over, she made me a cup of tea and asked, ‘What did you mean by that, Molly? Are you thinking about hurting yourself?’

I wasn’t, but I’m glad she asked the question, even though it was hard.

And I want everyone to be able to have these difficult conversations, even when we don’t want to.

We are arguably better informed about mental illness than ever before.

Most of us know at least someone who has been affected and wants to help.

But what often holds us back is the fear that things will get worse. Saying the wrong thing.

We don’t know what to say. In concrete terms, we don’t know what to ask.

I’ve always noticed that people tend to avoid certain expressions.

They pretend that words like depression and suicide are magical incantations that will cause the person they’re talking to to develop feelings they haven’t had before – like telling someone not to think about a green polar bear, and that’s all they do. they say. can visualize.

But as someone who struggles with their mental health, I want to say: please don’t ask me if I’m feeling down. Ask me if I’m depressed.

There is nothing wrong with using direct language. In fact, it can be extremely useful.

Just like the conversation I had with my mother.

At the time, I thought the panic attack would never end.

That I would spend the rest of my life gasping for breath with nothing but the fear gripping me.

Sharing what I felt for my and my mother’s sake helped us decide what our next steps should be.

It’s okay to ask someone if they have depression if you know the symptoms, or to see if you should take them to the doctor or nearest hospital. Sometimes it’s okay to just ask if they need help.

Behaving in a way that is not normal contributes to the deep stigma that exists around mental health.

As someone who has struggled most of his life, I believe that saying nothing is generally worse than saying something and having it easily misunderstood.

But please note: I’m not talking about saying something absolutely disgusting, like “get over it,” in which case, yes, please shut up.

Since I started sharing my mental health journey, countless friends have said the same thing: “I knew something was wrong, I just didn’t know how to deal with it with you.”

To be clear, I don’t blame them at all, but I often wonder: If they had talked to me about what they saw, would I have sought help sooner? What if they had told me that they had noticed changes in my behavior that concerned them? I didn’t know I was sick at the time. I had convinced myself that I was doing fine.

Especially when it comes to suicide, it can be difficult to ask someone if they are thinking about suicide. It may be hard to express, but you can make a difference. (If you think someone is in immediate danger, you should always call 999.)

These questions are important because they can lead to an honest dialogue.

However, mental illness is nuanced and complicated, and asking limiting questions like, “What caused your mental illness?” contributes to the idea that there is only one cause and therefore also a solution.

For this reason, there is no point in asking questions about any form of unsolicited advice.

This is often well intentioned; It is normal to want to “cure” someone’s pain. But offering so-called ‘solutions’ rarely benefits anyone.

Someone very close to me once asked, “Have you tried just thinking more positively?”

The word ‘normal’ in particular felt like a stab in the heart. It minimized what I was going through. I felt like I was overreacting and being dramatic because I was having such a hard time. I felt like I couldn’t talk to them about it anymore because it was so clear that they didn’t understand mental illness at all.

To start with, I did this. Whatever you want to suggest, I’ve tried it. On the other hand, it assumes that there is some miracle cure for anxiety that I haven’t found yet.

The day I told my mother I couldn’t live like this wasn’t my last panic attack. But thanks to the journey in which I was already deeply immersed, there are thankfully fewer and fewer differences between the two, although they are no less frightening.

There are still days when I struggle to get out of bed. But now I have tools that help. I take my medication. I diary. I take a cold shower and meditate. I’m going to therapy.

No one cares about my mental health as much as I do.

Before you ask someone else a question, ask yourself: Am I doing this for them or for myself?

Am I asking this question because I need to know if they are safe, and if not, I need to know how to keep them safe?

Or do I do it because I want to feel better by being ‘helpful’ and giving them a ‘quick fix’?

If so, talk to them anyway.

You’re going to screw it up. You’ve probably already screwed up. And you won’t get it right every time.

But please don’t leave the people you love alone with mental illness because you’re too afraid to say the wrong thing.

The most important thing is that you are willing to learn where you make mistakes so that you can do better.

None of us are perfect. Most of us are not mental health experts.

But we can be experts on the people we love.

And when we use this expertise, everyone benefits.

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