Opening the Door
As someone who has always been very private about my mental health diagnoses except for hard-won exceptions for close friends, it feels strange to be preparing for my first mental health advocacy speech that many people I know will hear - or hear about.
I vividly remember moving here to Chicago four years ago this week and thinking of the fresh start I would get. Unlike when I lived in a small town in Pennsylvania, I had no reputation at all - positive or negative. No one in Chicago knew me beyond the two people I interviewed with for my job, and I was determined to be as “normal” as possible at work and make friends in “normal” ways, especially since I was moving away from my best friend from college who helped me through my junior year mental health crisis.
When I moved, I had only been to Chicago once - to look for an apartment. I had to ask my new boss where to look since I didn’t know the city well enough to choose on my own. I had a single day to find a place and did the best I could, and by the time I moved in a month later, it hit me that I was well and truly alone.
Even when I started meeting people, I was so determined to create a persona that I didn’t let anyone in. I was conscious of what I could and couldn’t talk about, be interested in, and do to make people like me, and for a while that was what I focused on.
The one place where I let my guard down was a Pokemon Go group I joined shortly after moving. I was thrilled to discover that the average level of interest in the hobby was far more than I would usually let myself admit to, so I felt like I could fit in and also have a place to express my strong interests. It also helped that people didn't mind if I didn’t eat at events as long as I brought good pokemon to trade.
As time went by, I found a mix of activities that helped me reach my current (very!) active social life. I’ve met people by hanging out in card game stores, playing in Magic: the Gathering casual events and tournaments, attending local conventions, starting a Dungeons & Dragons group, and taking improv classes. I’ve even made a few friends at work who I was able to be myself with even before the speech opportunity came up - but the speech represented breaking an entirely different barrier than I set out to.
No matter where I’ve lived, the Jewish community has always seemed to be a place where no one can have a secret. Everyone knows everything about everyone, so I knew that as soon as I volunteered to speak about my mental health around anyone from work, basically everyone would know.
It was a tough decision to open that door I’d left shut for so long. Sure, people at work know that I eat strangely and am overly interested in “Lord of the Rings,” but there’s a big difference between observing those behaviors and learning the reason why. Even though I knew that it would be illegal to fire me for my mental health, I didn’t know if people would treat me differently.
I was lucky that, as soon as I volunteered to give a speech about mental health at work, someone offered to help me. I had never written a speech before, and having help - plus someone who wanted to talk with me about both my mental health and her own - was refreshing. I wasn’t expecting to find supportive people so early on, and throughout the draft-writing and approval process, I have been pleasantly surprised by how many people now know what is going on in my head and treat me kindly.
In other words, in addition to other people learning about me, this speech prep has been a great opportunity to learn about the people around me who I may never have gotten to know in this way. It also helped me be a little less afraid of participating actively in the Jewish community, where I have been treated in a variety of negative ways before (which made me afraid to try again).
It’s also been a way to start to speak up for myself more, not just at work but in general. This week, I told someone I would be unable to eat with her at a particular place and even though I was a little embarrassed, I didn’t stay silent and get myself stuck in an even more awkward situation. This may seem small, but when I consider how many other times I have been afraid to speak up, I am proud I’ve gotten this far.
Not to mention, how am I supposed to stick up for destigmatizing mental health if I let the stigma shame me into not sharing my story?
I’m excited that my first-ever mental health speech is coming up soon. I’m genuinely looking forward to opening that door to deeper understanding and relationships with the people around me - even in the place where it scared me the most. I had never considered anything like this before, but I think it’s a wonderful first step to being my real self with more people in my life.
Michelle Cohen, a writer in the Chicago area, was diagnosed with OCD at age 3. She hopes to educate others about her condition and end the stigma against mental illness.