Q Why is it important to talk openly about mental health?

by Kat Kinsman

illustrations by Avery Kua

Mental illness can make us feel we are less than human, keep us from caring for ourselves, and isolate us for fear of what others might think. I asked four extraordinary writers—Beejoli Shah, Ashley C. Ford, Parker Molloy, and Esmé Weijun Wang—about their decision to stand up against the stigma and speak openly about their own experiences.

ashley: People don’t always understand mental illness and might stereotype you, but I’m a black queer woman, so I’m used to being stereotyped. I don’t allow that ignorance to steal my joy. The reward of talking about it openly has been more honest conversations with every person in my life.

parker: It’s easy to discount someone you can label as being “crazy.” But the biggest reward—being able to be your authentic self and not have to hide something that’s a part of you—is worth it.

beejoli: You may risk that someone will use the information you’ve disclosed as a way to categorize you—to line up all your sins as proof that you cannot be trusted, and use your diagnosis as proof that they are right to line up said sins. The proof in the pudding is that you are crazy, basically, beyond repair. But the reward is that is rarely the case. And when it is, it’s easy to see whom to move out of your life.

esmé: I sometimes feel what’s been called a “vulnerability hangover” because of speaking so openly. But I keep doing it, and I think it’s a good thing to do.

Q What is your official diagnosis/condition, and what are the words you personally use to describe it?

ashley: I am a person who lives with depression, generalized anxiety, and PTSD.

parker: Major depressive disorder, panic/anxiety disorders.

beejoli: Generalized anxiety disorder and depression.

esmé: Schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type, generalized anxiety disorder, and C-PTSD (complex post-traumatic stress disorder).

Q What made you decide to publicly speak about your mental health?

ashley: Once I found spaces with many people who shared different aspects of their lives online, I realized I wasn’t alone. I felt affirmed and liberated by them. So much of the peace I was beginning to find with myself came from other people choosing to share their words and experiences. I wanted to pay it forward.

parker: I was sick of hating myself. I was sick of always being sad or angry or upset or just feeling broken because I tried to bottle so much of this up.

esmé: One, I was hired full-time at a start-up company. Two, I realized that if I didn’t speak publicly about it then, there was no better time waiting in the wings for me. Being hired full-time was important because I’d previously worried that talking about mental illness would make me unhirable.

Q What was the impact on your life from your disclosure?

parker: There were some messages of encouragement, there were some angry trolls online who took advantage of that new information. In all, it was easier, at least compared to some of the other things I’ve had to “come out” as: being trans, being bisexual.

beejoli: I was more honest with myself right away. Instead of rationalizing my behaviors (lying to people I cared about over small things; picking fights constantly; never standing up for myself and then boiling over), I was able to recognize them and with the help of meds, able to manage my reactions to them without instantly going from 0 to 120.

Q Why are stigma and silence so dangerous?

esmé: I received, and still do receive, a lot of emails from people, particularly young women, who were and are relieved to see me speaking publicly about living with mental illness.

beejoli: The relief at finding out that you’re not a bad person, you’re just a person, is the very, very best, and I wouldn’t want anyone to deny themselves that.

esmé: Stigma and silence keep people from seeking help. People die from stigma and silence.

Q Are there different risks for POC, LGBTQ+, or people from certain religious or cultural backgrounds in discussing mental health?

ashley: I’ve been told black people don’t get to be crazy. I’ve been asked, “Isn’t being queer enough?” And I’ve been encouraged to just pray it away. It’s all so wrong, but I have to be strong enough in my own mind to know they’re wrong. I feel terribly for all the people still struggling with these bad beliefs and ideas.

beejoli: Exclusion from the community. Parental exclusion. I’ve been lucky that my community has been for the most part ultra supportive, but it still does bug me when that uncle (whom I love and am super close to), or people like him, use my diagnosis to make judgments about my life.

esmé: Mental health issues can be an invisible marginal identifier, though not always, and it might be risky to exhibit that and make it plain.

Q How would you advise someone to disclose their mental health issues?

ashley: Tell the people you need to tell first. At least one person who will definitely have your back, and at least one person whom you trust to help you when you need it.

parker: Depending on what the issue is, talk to your therapist/doctor/whatever you have beforehand.

esmé: There’s a saying from Danielle LaPorte that I think about often: “Open heart. Big fucking fence.” Not everyone is going to respond well. Be aware of that going in.

Q How can people support someone in their life who opens up about their mental health?

ashley: Listen without judgment, encourage without shaming, and love fiercely before anything else.

parker: Listen. Do your homework. Make yourself available.

beejoli: Just be there. Listen. Don’t weigh in with “Hey, do you need to see your therapist again?” or “Do you need to adjust your meds?” Do be a support, but don’t be an armchair therapist.