This picture was taken March of 2019... and as content as I may seem in it, I was waiting to be admitted into a mental health facility.
I was having a really rough time. My circumstances had not changed in years but I had become tired of them. Soul tired. It got to the point where I chose to forego taking sleeping meds because I was too tempted to overdose.
After some discussions with my mother, I contacted my psychiatrist and explained the problem. Clearly the medication I was on for my bipolar depression and situational depression wasn't being effective, but I had also just lost the will to combat the overwhelming exhaustion and despair that I was submerged in. He agreed that some time away would probably be the best and so we started the process of getting me admitted.
This brought a problem with work and social obligations. In both situations, my peers were completely unaware that it was a problem. I had one work colleague that knew I had some challenges, but didn't know I was in distress. I had colleagues who looked down on mental health issues as weakness, as not being strong enough, and of course the gossips who would just eat this up. Social obligations were basically my Friday D&D... which I felt at the time was my one ray of light in the week. I felt that I didn't want to just disappear with them thinking I was disinterested or something.
So I told my friends the truth, because my real-life deception score is pretty poor. And they leapt into action. The following week while I waited for a bed was spent taking me to the beach, giving me ice cream, taking me out for coffee, feeding me all kinds of fattening things, and just giving me something I didn't have up to that point (or that I didn't know I had): Social support.
It took a week and a half for a bed to be available at the mental health place... and that time was enough for me to get back on my feet. Yes, I was still in distress. No, it would take a long time for me to recover completely (years, in fact). But the immediate "I want to die right now" storm had passed. So when the bed was finally available, I declined going.
I will be honest and say part of me wouldn't want to go there because I was raised in a world where mental health was tremendously stigmatised. But I am grateful that I (1) had the opportunity to go if I needed to and (2) was okay enough to decline the opportunity.
So why did I decide to share all this? Because today, 10 October, is World Mental Health Day and the best way to help sometimes is raising awareness, by being a bit more open than we usually are.
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