It’s time we felt able to speak up
The power of depression is in keeping us silent — so let’s talk
I’ve spent the past few days in Otago on tour, speaking at schools and community events about the topic of mental health. At least I hope I have, because I’m actually writing this last Friday in preparation for going away for the talks.
If I don’t end up there, it would be extremely unfortunate given that a) something bad has probably happened to stop me going, and b) I’ve just lied to you.
But, touch wood, let’s work on the assumption that I’ve spent the past three days doing talks, and I’ve got a few more to do before heading home. It’s probably fairly cold and extremely beautiful wherever I am right now.
Anyhow, my point is that I’ve probably been speaking in schools this week about mental health. So why? That is, aside from the obvious answer — that we are in the midst of a mental health crisis in New Zealand.
Those of you who know me know that my “story” is about cancer, not about mental health. You could argue that at times the two are intertwined.
But the bottom line is that I’m not professionally qualified to speak about mental health — I’ve got no degrees, I’ve done no studies, I’ve got no patients I treat.
So who would be reckless enough to let me loose in half a dozen schools?
The answer is fairly simple.
I’m there because I, like most people, have a story about mental health. Because I have faced depression before. I’m there because I personally believe that we as a society all bear a shared responsibility to spread awareness of the issues being faced across our country in relation to mental health, and I believe the best way to do that is to talk about them.
I’m there because as a young man, as part of the demographic bearing much of the brunt of these numbers, I feel a personal responsibility to spread awareness about the horrendous statistics around youth suicide in New Zealand.
I’m there because I’m sick of it. I’m sick of it being our national shame, I’m sick of people not feeling able to speak up, I’m sick of people tearing
others down when they need them most. That is why I’m there, talking about stuff I don’t necessarily even feel comfortable talking about.
The point of me speaking in these schools is to send a message — it’s okay to talk about your mental health.
To say to young people, “Well, if I can come up here in front of your assembly and talk to all of you about my experiences with depression, then maybe mental illness isn’t some big bad wolf to not be named. At the very least, it’s certainly not the elephant in the room anymore. And hopefully, it’s proof that if you need to talk about your own experiences with mental health, or if you need help, that you can reach out to someone around you.”
And now what I’ve done is I’ve
The power that mental illness holds over our society is in how long it can keep us silent.
written it in the Herald. And if I can write it here where you’re reading it now, then you can ask for help if you need it.
The power that mental illness holds over our society is in how long it can keep us silent. It is in how well it can isolate people from those around them.
Like a predator hunting, it isolates a member from the pack and picks them off. Like a captor, its power is only limited by how effectively it can control us. When people start to speak up about it, it becomes weaker and weaker. The shame and stigma fall away from it.
It can only survive in the darkness of the shadows, and when we shine a light on these issues through conversation, we take the sting out of them, and we can finally begin to save some lives and roll back some of these horrendous, nationally embarrassing statistics that are festering in our communities.
I’ve got massive respect for all those who have spoken up in recent times about their own experiences.
It seems like most weeks another Kiwi speaks up and speaks out.
Just the other week it was Zac Guildford and Zac Franich on The
Inside Word, openly discussing the battles they’ve faced in their own heads. That’s gutsy, big ups to them.
Sorry I’m late to the party, but here’s me sticking my hand up.
If you’ve got a story to tell, maybe consider doing the same.
I am truly optimistic that this decade can be remembered for this change.
The 80s were Nuclear-Free New Zealand. The 2000s brought a burst of passion for environmental protection.
Let’s do all we can to make sure the 10s will be defined by this in New Zealand — the first decade where we truly spoke up about mental health, lifted the stigma around mental illness, and in the process arrested the decline in mental health in our country.
We are on the forefront of that shift right here and now.
You’re watching, reading, and listening to part of a societal shift that will be talked about for decades to come, all through the power of words.