“Did you hear Alex goes to therapy?” “But she seems so normal!” Yes, how strange, because according to common consensus, she is by no means normal. She might have a mental illness! And of course mental illnesses entail complete dissociation from reality, arms flailing in the air, fingers wound tightly around a knife, eyes glowing in a raging stupor. OK, maybe your image is a little more progressive than that, but let’s be honest, there is a definite sense that having a mental illness is not normal. You’re not sick, you’re sick (said with wide-eyed, fearful pity). Either way, mental illness is just not very chic, especially in college when we’re supposed to be drinking and partying and feeling on top of the world. But Alex is acting normal, so we just won’t mention it. Because that would just be awkward, right?
Right. We don’t really talk about that here. Never mind delusions of grandeur or suicidal thoughts, it’s best if we just keep this “hush, hush”. I mean, people might think you’re crazy. Ah, yes, another great piece of advice given to people struggling with mental illness. Some other faves are “Cheer up” and “Look on the bright side,” as if the symptoms will magically disintegrate once you plaster a smile on your face; how American of us. In the words of one bright crayon in a senior-level psych class (this means she’s a psych major), “I hate when people say they’re depressed and just pop a pill!”
What a nuanced and sensitive understanding of this issue! This type of attitude creates the perfect environment for someone who may be struggling with the transition this university imposes on students. For those who aren’t so fortunate to quickly find a community on campus, the change can be too much to handle. And the limited understanding the average college student has of these issues does not aid in creating a supportive environment. As far as myths go, someone with a mental illness tends to fall into one of two categories: a homicidal maniac or a complete faker.
As we all know, these ideas don’t just come out of nowhere: We have the media to help us out! Now that’s real education. With the exception of “Law & Order’s” accurate portrayal of bipolar disorder, television shows have haphazardly added characters in for the cause of awareness — or, erm, character depth. For instance, while I (embarrassingly) sat through an entire episode of “90210,” I witnessed the poor integration of Erin Silver’s bipolar disorder into the otherwise riveting storyline. Throw in some drugs here, a little pregnancy there and how about we give a character a mental illness to show we have a heart? The character’s poorly crafted and even more poorly executed struggle with bipolar disorder was really the perfect way to spread awareness; I really felt for her! Her character cries that bipolar disorder is always extreme, entails rapid moods swings, will lead you to consummate your love in public places and, of course, occasionally run head on into a train. As the ads say, she’s very destructive and very dangerous.
Hold up with the TV, what do real students have to say? She’s a neat freak, she must be OCD. He’s eccentric, what a schizo! I can’t pay attention, I’m so ADD. Borderline personality disorder, what in the world is that? Come on, why can’t everyone just control their emotions?
Okay, maybe I’m getting carried away. They are just words after all. I wish it were that simple. But even if we acknowledge these common phrases are all in good fun, the problem here is that these words lead students to not seek help: real, necessary, medical help.
We go to a university where students consider bipolar to be synonymous with over-the-top. Mental illnesses are reduced to have no complexity, no spectrum, no individual differences. The latency period is obsolete, made up. There’s no way anyone can manage it well and carry on living a productive life. As if treating the symptoms alone isn’t strenuous enough, students also have to deal with the stigma that comes with having a mental illness. You aren’t a person with an illness. You are defined by the illness. In the words of one of our elite, “Come on man, you don’t need those drugs,” because clearly there is no genetic component. The chemical imbalance is “all in your head,” and really just a sign of your own personal weakness. It’s your fault that your neurotransmitters are out of whack. Start self-regulating them! These common views can do wonders to one’s sense of self-worth. And we wonder why students aren’t courageous enough to speak up.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not denying the fact that we live in a “Prozac nation,” where many are indeed overmedicated and over-diagnosed. This, however, should not delegitimatize real people suffering from real problems. We can’t make the brash assumption that anyone claiming they have no purpose in living is really just crying wolf. Where’s the promised support?
But let’s not dwell on the past. What can we do now? Clearly the student body needs to educate itself. Avoiding people who seem “crazy” is not effective in combating the stigma, and we can’t tell everyone who says they see a therapist to just man up. When someone tells you they have depression, maybe we could be supportive. Should be a no-brainer, but it’s not.
Thankfully, campus organizations such as SPILL (Supporting Peers In Laid-Back Listening) and NAMI-UW (National Alliance on Mental Illness) have let students know they are not alone, and have helped spread awareness and provide a supportive environment for students. Hopefully, in time, this model will be adopted by the university as a whole.
Kara Bellowe ([email protected]) is a senior majoring in psychology and a member of NAMI-UW.
