"I Support People With Mental Illnesses"

For all those out there who just cringed at the title, I am so sorry. I understand your pain, but this post is primarily for those who don't understand why this is such a horrible phrase to hear. Prepare for a bit of a clunky explanation and if you can't bear with me through the entirety of this, I totally get it. I hate this phrase so much for so many reasons.

On the surface, the phrase sounds super simple—it outlines support, so it's good, right? Unfortunately, this phrase in particular has turned into something that we may flinch away from, simply because of how wrong it's been proven to be time and time again.

One thing that many people don't seem to realize is that those with mental illnesses hide their mental illnesses. We don't go around falling apart all over the place and accepting that we're hurting inside. Most of us would love to quit the act and stop having to fake a smile when we feel like we're dying inside, but people get upset with us for being messy or for saying we aren't okay when "you should be okay." When we're incapable of being normal, of being neat, of being convenient, people don't tolerate our mental illnesses much.

The truth is: you can't support people with mental illnesses without facing the messy.

A lot of us with mental illnesses have had people say that they'll support us through it, but as soon as we fall apart, they take a giant step back and sometimes even walk away from the relationship altogether. "It's not you, it's me," I've heard people say. 'They just can't handle it.' But then I hear secondhand from someone else something else that they said something else entirely and I realize I was too much.

My mess was too much for them.

"Support" nowadays feels rocky in general. Maybe that's just me, but as the world around us seems to grow more tense (not to be political, but you get what I mean), I see people's mental health seem to grow worse and worse. Their relationships fray because they can't keep it together. Maybe it's just me—perhaps it's only what I see around me that reflects this, but everything appears to be spiraling out of control.

Imagine trying to stand strong but you collapse, your knees buckling beneath you. You try, but you can't get back up. A person walks over and stands above you and starts scolding you to get up, telling you to just try harder. You can't get back up, but obviously you just aren't trying hard enough. You hurt and everything feels too heavy; you can't get yourself back onto your feet. You're too weak and too tired.

Now let's change that to something less physical. Let's say you were happy, going around the house talking to your family, being nice and friendly even, not just civil. Then in a second, everything shifts and you find yourself... angry. Heavy and sullen with an undertone of hopelessness. Your cheerful tone turns snippish and hissy and you find yourself backing out of the room. "Just be more optimistic," "be nicer," "what's wrong with you?" But your emotions inside of you are swirling and you can't get them to settle. Everything is just out of control and wild.

What's the difference between these two images? One is physical and the other is mental. In both, the person is slipping, losing control, falling short of what is expected. Perhaps you might say they're suffering. Is either experience easier or less "valid" than the other? I wouldn't say so. Is what was said in either image necessarily appropriate? Not really.

You aren't going to get anywhere telling a person who's trying their best to just try harder. You can't do any better than your best, that's just not possible. And if a person is so used to you demanding "what's wrong with you?" when you finally ask what's wrong calmly, they'll lash out because they're so used to being hurt by you insinuating that something is wrong with them—like they're faulty.

When people say they support others with mental illnesses, it usually ends up like this: The person collapses and instead of supporting them, they just tell them to try harder. "You've got this, I believe in you. Everything will get better eventually." But whether they've been fighting this battle for a few years or decades, it still seems like a dark tunnel with no end in sight.

"Everything will be fine." I can't remember the last time things have been fine.

"You've got this." But if I really did, wouldn't I be out by now?

"I believe in you." You say that, but you're walking away when I need you most. You believe in me but I can't believe in myself. And you're walking away.

I've learned to take support with a grain of salt, not only because of this phrase, but also because even the best meaning people can mess up big time in trying to support you and sometimes that "support" is what hurts the most. A person saying they support you is almost like an "I'll try" at this point, and you can only hope that their version of support is what you need at that time.

But point is, saying "I support people with mental illnesses" doesn't mean what it maybe used to. Now it's more of a trigger than anything helpful.

All you well-meaning people out there, I thought maybe you should know this. I admire and appreciate your attempt at helping. This long-lived battle is on a field full of landmines left and right. And yes, there seems to be no safe place sometimes, but keep trying. I appreciate your efforts on the behalf of anyone who may benefit from it. Bless you.