During passing, you hustle through the bustling, congested hallways just to get to class on time, as your body competes against the clock. You have two main focuses in mind: arriving to class before the bell rings and fabricating plans as to how you will finalize last minute homework. Little did you know that the girl you just passed has attempted suicide four times. As you try to direct your attention to the teacher’s boring lectures and take notes as you go along, you never realize the boy to your left is slaving to survive due to severe anxiety and OCD, while the girl on your right is undergoing trouble listening because the voices in her head keep interrupting her as she tries to fight them off. As you go home to do homework, a boy in your own math class is writing his suicide note. And you didn’t know.

Suicide is the second leading cause of death in teens in the United States. Approximately one in five adolescents have a diagnosable mental health disorder, and one in every ninety adolescents have resided at a psychiatric in-patient hospital for more than seven days. Despite these staggering statistics, why do we not hear of these people more?

As the teenage mental illness and suicide rate gradually rise, we must learn to open our mouths and speak. Here three key steps to fight off stigma and save a life.

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I am the mother of an intelligent beautiful boy, and two weeks ago he was blue papered to a psychiatric unit for an acute psychotic disorder. Just woke up one morning, literally and was a different young man. I have never felt so helpless in my life. I am a nurse, never saw the signs. I have cried endlessly. I grieve the boy he once was,  and as a medical nurse,  try to make sense of all of this.  While he is responding well to medication, I have so many fears, anxieties,  and questions no one can answer. I am thankful for the wonderful care he is getting, and so thankful for organizations that decrease the stigma of mental illness. I have kept this a secret from coworkers and friends as I don’t want my son judged or people to assume I was a bad parent. So for now, I will educate myself and encourage my son to not be ashamed of his illness (or disorder)  and just learn to take it one day at a time… 

In four days it will be a year since I lost my only brother to suicide. The past year has been the most excruciatingly painful of all my 23 years. I was naïve to think I had ever known pain before April 8^th of 2015. The days, weeks and months that have followed that day passed agonizingly slowly and implausibly quickly. The waiting periods between first holidays, birthdays and experiences without Jesse stretched out ahead of me for what seemed like small eternities, eternities that I spent in a prison of my own thoughts and fears for what the event would be like without my brother.

The anxiety I suffered from weeks of my own mental torture was probably more devastating than the hollow emptiness the once enjoyable events brought. At the same time, months passed by so quickly that I felt like I was falling further and further behind where I should be progress-wise, recovery-wise, I don’t know what you’d call it, but I knew I felt like I should be further along than I was. I felt like nine months later I shouldn’t still be bursting into tears suddenly when a memory or thought hit me. I stopped feeling like I could confide in others about my feelings, for fear that they would be exhausted after so much time had passed and for fear that they would think I should be “better” by now.

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I have been affected by mental illness since the age of 15. You see, that is when I was first diagnosed with Severe Clinical Depression. I am now going on 43. Through the years I have been diagnosed with anxiety, PTSD, and Bipolar Disorder. It has been a long road. It hasn’t been easy. There are days that I want to give up. But my message for you is this:

YOU CAN DO IT!

YOU can live a life with a mental illness. YOU CAN have a family. YOU CAN have friends. YOU CAN have children if you choose. YOU CAN have a successful career. YOU CAN have a successful LIFE!

It won’t come easy. Even people who don’t have a mental illness have it rough at times. But it is possible. It might take a little more work, but if you are determined, you can make things happen!

Bipolar disorder has made my life interesting for sure. And I am not ashamed that I am still trying to find my way in the world. But I am doing it. I am living life, one day at a time. I am dealing with my moods and managing my illness with medication. Not many people understand, but if you talk about it [your illness], and explain it in a way people will understand, we can break the stigma that surrounds Mental Illness.  

At 12 years old, my daughter was diagnosed with mental illness. I was in denial for awhile. This is the 4th generation on my mother’s side known to me. I had hoped it would end with me. Even today, I had to take my daughter to an emergency room due to manic symptoms. There have been many nights I cried because it can be overwhelming at times. I’ve had a public school principal ask me to transfer my daughter to an alternative school. I’ve had to attend court for truancy due to numerous absences for psychiatric hospitalizations. I’ve had to file runaway reports with the police. I’ve even felt as if my best we’re not enough. My mother had to endure some of these same things. I appreciate her so much more. Unfortunately, she is at rest. I’m grateful that I endured my many afflictions with mental illness personally. It has helped me to be sensitive to my daughter'a needs. Although it is not always easy, I endure with faith that all things will work together for good.

I was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia May of 2001 and have been taking medication experiencing symptoms and side effects to this day. Working and attending college we’re apart of my daily activities under ticket to work after being awarded the entitlement of Ssdi. I attended a technical college here in Athens, Georgia and earned my AAS through Voc Rehab services in 2008. An online school became the next college I enrolled in. In 2011, earned my BA and in 2013, earned my MPA terminally with the help of AU. I’ve been unemployed since 2010 though still receive Ssdi. Living now in a nice condo. I go to Alcoholics Anonymous and have been sober 32 months. The illness impairs my ability to memorize, focus, and concentrate because of constant bombardment of auditory hallucinations, delusions, psychosis and paranoia over the course of 16 years. I would experience the stigma firsthand in employment and relationships in addition to discrimination. The first time I began to exhibit symptoms was after running a long distance at the age of 22. I have a goal of working for the government. With my education, may have chance to produce in this country. I hope my story gives people affected by mental illness hope and insight on avenues and resources available to disabled Americans. Thank you

Hello Friends, Family, Survivors…this is my story, and I am not ashamed. 

I began my long and winding road with mental illness when I was about 14-15yrs old. I am now 32. When I was 15, a freshman in high school, popular, fun and had the world at my fingertips my beloved father was diagnosed with Cancer. He survived for almost ten months after diagnosis. At his funeral, me, fragile and broken, I remember being terrified. Mother was (and never will be because of her own demons) much of a sensitive woman. It wasn’t long after the death of ‘Princess Diana’ and she believed that showing any type of emotion would make us look “weak.” I remember walking behind her into the huge cathedral with 300+ eyes of others staring at us with complete sympathy. All there in remembrance of such a remarkable man, my Father. I was numb, unable and not allowed to cry like my heart wanted to. After that day, I have always been wary about showing emotions. I didn’t think it was weak at all, but the deprivation to show them at that time, changed me. Months after was my first hospital stay. I became a self-harmer. It was really a desperate cry for help, my mother never took me to the hospital. She didn’t believe me and thought that I wanted attention. But my sister took me. After that first three week stay, I decided that I would not harm myself again. I would love EVERYONE and sadly anyone to give the love I so desperately wanted in return. So, I kept living, quietly going through the rollercoaster of emotions and I kept them all to myself.

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A few years ago, I felt broken, alone, afraid, and not heard. I thought I was a bad person, that something was wrong with me, I felt angry. 

Everyday, I woke up, hoping I would have a happy day, a good day, that I would not feel mad. It took one trigger, and boom, I could go off like a bomb. I always blamed others on my anger. If someone got a food order wrong, or didn’t wait on me fast enough, I would just strike at them with anger, and mean words. i remember throwing a drink at someone, multiple people actually, multiple times. Writing this, I feel anger, only because I feel bad for those victims of my anger. I was selfish, I was wrong, and I needed help. Everyone around me said “stop”  or “you can control it!” But I could not. I would get so anxious in public that I would run so fast through the store to get what I needed, I wouldn’t go alone, and if I saw someone I’d keep walking. I had a fear, I don’t know of what, but I was very afraid. 

I finally reached out. I reached out to my boyfriend, my family, and my doctor. I was trying to be honest that I KNEW I had a problem, but did not know how to fix it.I didn’t know what it was, I didn’t know if I would get better. I made myself anxious thinking “Will I die alone and angry?” My doctor gave me medication. It made me feel new again. I worked on a lot of deep breathing techniques, I spoke to a counselor time and again, and really learned to reach out my family and significant other for support and love.

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I became diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia 35 years ago…I took the medication prescribed to me and stayed on it at all times as prescribed. I did not drink alcohol or do illicit drugs. I struggled with my symptoms but I obtained a bachelor’s degree in engineering technology at University of Central Florida in 1988 and I had a 25 year successful career with Boeing, the aerospace/commercial airliner company. I could’ve done a lot of things. That is what I chose to do and I was successful at it because of medicine, hard work and natural ability. You can do it too…find a good doctor and do what he says. Stay focused and do something you love like I did. You don’t have to get a degree if there is something else for you to do that you love more. I still have the same diagnosis but I am still on medication which is non-life limiting, and I see a counselor/therapist. I am retired now and I am enjoying life. I want to encourage others like me by getting involved with NAMI, starting with the 5k walk on April 30 at UCF in Orlando, Florida. I live in Satellite Beach.