After years of suffering from mental health issues, was happy to see celebrities encouraging others to speak out. Then she tried to get life insurance – and discovered the secret downside of opening up

Who doesn’t remember how moving it was when Prince Harry opened up about the 20-year emotional shutdown he experienced after the death of his mother? Similarly affecting was Adele’s admission that she’d suffered postnatal depression after the birth of her son. This raw openness from such high-profile figures felt taboo-breaking, as though it was ushering in a new era of understanding and acceptance around mental illness – and other sufferers have been encouraged to follow suit. But should the rest of us really be so unguarded? I vehemently agree that openness is the antidote to shame, and that it fosters both compassion and connection. Yet discrimination still lurks – as I know to my cost.

A few months ago, around my son’s first birthday, I decided to take out life insurance. Scary as it is to contemplate one’s mortality, becoming a parent has forced me to consider such morbid stuff. Except it didn’t go as planned, because the two providers I approached declined my application. One said it was because I had once been referred to an alcohol specialist on account of my drinking issues while the other, who I had to chase for information on this, named my recent visits to a psychiatrist (for help with depression) as the problem.

I called both providers to explain that a) yes, I’m a recovering addict but have been teetotal for seven years; b) I am in good mental health and have a strong emotional support system around me, including weekly psychotherapy and a supportive family; c) I exercise four times a week, eat well, don’t smoke, have a healthy body weight and excellent cholesterol readings.

None of these things helped my cause. Even the lady on the phone agreed it was unfair – a sort of ‘computer says no’ blanket policy against anyone with a history of addiction or psychiatric issues. Perhaps this is just the nature of insurance? But it’s hard not to feel affronted, particularly since, as it stands, if my partner dies our mortgage gets paid off (she applied to the same providers and was accepted straightaway) whereas if I die she gets nothing.

‘Many people are charged a higher premium or refused cover altogether if they have had a mental health problem in the past, even if they have recovered,’ says Michael Henson-Webb, head of legal at mental health charity Mind. ‘Some insurers are operating with a total lack of transparency and many people are none the wiser as to why they have been declined.’

Travel insurance isn’t much better. Recent research (by the charity Money and Mental Health) shows that one in three people with mental health problems have travelled with no insurance to cover their mental health because it was too expensive or their condition was excluded. So someone with depression would be able to claim on travel insurance if they have to cancel plans due to a physical complaint but not as a result of a mental one.

Money and Mental Health director Helen Undy says: ‘Half of us will experience a mental health problem at some point in our lives. If the travel insurance market doesn’t work for half of customers, then it’s really not working at all.’

If you’re royalty or a popstar, the negative financial effects of coming out about mental health struggles aren’t such a big deal. The rest of us, however, have cause for concern.

On top of the financial repercussions of disclosure, there can be romantic costs. I’m lucky: having been with my partner for more than ten years, I can’t claim to have experienced discrimination on the dating scene. I’m pretty sure, though, that my periods of despair wouldn’t be the first thing I’d mention on a date – but some people can’t hide their struggles as easily as I can mine.

Take Laura, 40, who has many raised red lines on her upper legs from self-harming. ‘I can hide the scars,’ she says, ‘but whenever it comes to getting intimate, there’s always that moment when the other person sees the scars and their eyes bulge. I suppose I should warn them beforehand but I’m worried about scaring them off. So I just wait… Sometimes they freak out and run away there and then. Sometimes they run away the next morning. My struggles are right there, on my skin. People say we should be open but most of the time they don’t want to see.’

Admitting to his demons might make Prince Harry appear appealingly vulnerable, but for some of us, being transparent about mental illness can lead to a whole new set of problems. In the workplace, for instance, there’s often a huge gulf between people’s avowed principles and how they actually behave. As a freelance writer who specialises in mental, physical and emotional health, I’ve managed to make my own struggles work for me. Like all freelancers, however, I live with constant uncertainty about whether I will get the commission next time. Journalism is all about reliability, speed and making yourself available. I would rather say I have a stomach upset than tell an editor that I’m under the duvet, crying.

Emma Mamo, head of workplace wellbeing at Mind, says: ‘While public attitudes towards people with mental health problems have improved there’s still stigma; however, staff who need time off sick because of depression should be treated the same as those who take days off for back pain.’ Recent survey results suggest that currently a devastating one in four workers suffer their mental health issues in silence, but that when managers support them they take fewer days off work (a win-win situation).

‘No employer has ever treated my depression