Translator: Diem Bloom Reviewer: Denise RQ
I am not sad about my depression.
Quick story: as I was preparing for this talk,
I ran it by my mom a couple of times,
and she hesitantly asked me in her motherly way,
"How much can you share and how much do you want to share
without having people look at you differently?"
Differently in the sense
that people would be uneasy or uncomfortable around me.
I don't know how much I can share, but what I do know is this:
I am not alone in my experiences or my diagnosis.
Recent studies show that approximately 1 out of 4 US adults suffer from
a mental illness in a year.
With mental illness ranging from depression, bipolar disorder,
anxiety, eating disorders, post traumatic stress disorders,
postpartum depression, and others.
I want you to imagine,
if you're sitting at a dinner table with more than 4 people,
chances are there is someone there who is suffering.
That person may even be yourself.
Even though mental illness statistically affects a lot of people in a year,
we continue to avoid the subject.
It's taboo.
Why is that?
Modern culture teaches us to relish in the fairy tale.
We love the happy endings, the ride off into a sunset fantasy,
the romantic comedies that wrap up neatly
after a series of wacky and improbable events.
We want this so much for ourselves that it becomes normal for us
to pretend that everything is normal
even when it isn't.
The trouble is when we do this with mental health,
we can be unintentionally dismissive.
Take for example a response that I get
when I reveal that I have depression.
People will typically ask me, "How do you know that you're not just sad?"
Another question is, "Maybe this is just a phase; do you really need medication?"
When we ask questions like this, what we're doing
is dismissing the seriousness of mental health,
and most importantly, we can start missing the most important signs.
Instead, when someone feels comfortable opening up and sharing,
we can encourage them to tell their story and learn from their experiences.
Another thing we do as a society as we're pretending to be "normal"
is we're teaching those with the mental disorder to be afraid of themselves.
When we use words in day-to-day conversation
like 'crazy', 'weird', 'stupid', 'emotional', 'unintelligent',
the same words that were used to describe me when I was growing up,
we're creating the negative association
that those with a mental disorder should be ashamed and afraid.
When we do this, this it can lead to alienation and fear,
which is especially worsened if you're already suffering.
This fear escalates when the media exclusively focuses
on dangerous people who have a mental disorder.
People like serial killers or perpetrators of mass shootings.
When in reality, someone with a mental disorder can look like an astronaut.
Take Buzz Aldrin, for example.
He flew to the Moon in 1969.
He struggled with alcoholism and depression.
Or someone with a mental disorder can look like a multi-talented pop singer.
Like Demi Lovato. She struggled with bulimia.
Even Lady Gaga, winner of multiple Grammys, admitted
that she still struggles with her depression every single day.
Or a person with a mental illness can look like a prestigious composer.
Think Beethoven.
It was believed that he suffered from manic depression.
Most importantly, what we typically forget is that those with a mental disorder
can be our best friends and our most loved family members.
Our mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters,
aunts, uncles, even ourselves.
Just because someone has a mental disorder does not make them a bad person
or a person to be feared.
Now that we know that mental disorders and mental illness statistically affect
roughly a quarter of the US population every year,
how can we backtrack and open up the dialogue
to make the subject less taboo?
As a society, there are a few things we can do.
One: we can talk about it.
Because the more we share, the more we demystify.
Two: we can self-check.
When we find ourselves using harmful vocabulary words
like 'crazy', 'weird', and 'stupid',
we can realize that these words only perpetuate the stigma.
Three: we can eliminate judgment.
This empowers us to empathize, open up, and step in.
For those of us who do have a mental disorder,
there are a couple of things we can do.
Remember society does not have permission to define us.
We are not our mental illness.
Two: now is always the right time to speak up and ask for help,
especially if you feel as though you are in a dangerous situation.
There's nothing to be afraid or ashamed of.
Three: once you do feel comfortable opening up and sharing,
you'll quickly realize you are not alone, even if you feel like it right now.
You aren't an outlier.
By implementing these day-to-day suggestions,
we can create a forward-thinking society,
one where we're compassionate, vulnerable, and open.
You know what? I'm going to start today.
Regardless of what modern culture teaches, I am not sad about my depression.
And it's OK if you aren't either.
Thank you.
(Applause)