The Power of Narrative in Mental Health Awareness

According to the National Alliance on Mental Health, 20 percent of adults in the US experience a mental health condition, but less than half receive treatment. Lack of dedicated health policy, inequities in access and quality of care, fear of stigmatization, and mistrust or bad experiences when seeking care all contribute to the lack of successful treatment received by those suffering. There is also a lack of crisis intervention services, forcing law enforcement and first responders to manage situations once they’re out of control. Those who do make it safely to an emergency room while in crisis account for one in eight ER visits related to mental health and substance abuse disorders.

In this issue, you will read about the human costs that stem from both the failures and the complexities in treating this vulnerable population. By the numbers, serious mental illness costs the US $193 billion in lost earnings, with depression being the leading cause of disability worldwide. Despite these costs, there remains a chasm in understanding by healthcare professionals and society that mental health is a major component of whole health. This is one reason we continue to make space for these stories.

Through their lived experiences and fictional portrayals, the writers, poets, and artists in Issue #7 provide insight into the ways in which physical illness and trauma can cause mental illness like depression, suicidal ideation, and PTSD. With their real-time reports of how COVID-19 affects those in recovery or living with depression, anxiety and schizophrenia, they offer not only comfort through their fearless candor, but also working knowledge that can be used in clinics and at the bedside.

Because the full impact of COVID-19 on mental health will not be understood for some time, the voices of those suffering need to be heard today. Anecdotal reports by healthcare workers point to even higher numbers of people suffering from burnout, depression, and suicidal ideation in their ranks. The hard evidence should command immediate and meaningful action to address the myriad problems faced by those of all ages managing mental illness amid family obligations, school, and careers. But if the chaos of 2020 has proven anything beyond a reasonable doubt, it’s that logic doesn’t always prevail and that a good story, told with the right amount of social media behind it, can create reality.

If that is true, then here’s hoping stories like nonfiction contest winner David Martinez’s “Bipolarations” go viral. Martinez writes a poetic, rhythmic, and first-hand account of his soul-searching and self-medicated quest to build evidence in support of his later in life bipolar disorder diagnosis. Our authors also remind us that mental illness happens to families and to society, not simply the individual. In “Sorrow: Surviving A Son’s Suicide,” nonfiction runner-up Susan Wight writes of the anguish, loss, and guilt in surviving her son Rion, who also suffered from bipolar disorder. “How large we can grow and how tiny we can shrink under extreme adversity,” she says when reflecting on how well and how poorly she, her husband, and youngest son negotiated the tricky aftermath of losing a child and brother to suicide.

Living with or loving someone with a mental illness often requires learning how to be comfortable living in dualities, in temporary and alternate realities. In Blow Your House Down: A Story of Family, Feminism, and Treason, author Gina Frangello, interviewed in this issue, breaks the memoir mold while describing the flexibility and resilience required of her when growing up with a father and later loving a man who both lived with bipolar disease. I’m reminded of Jenny Diski’s memoir, In Gratitude, written while she was dying of cancer and refusing to become the cliché she believed cancer-stricken writers had become. Like Diski, Frangello also describes facing a cancer diagnosis that doesn’t come close to defining her life, admitting she had been counting on the familial mental illness to strike her down before her body failed. In similar style, both authors circle the important questions surrounding family loyalty and self-preservation, unable to provide tidy, linear accounts of lives interrupted by mentally ill parents. In the end, both writers succeed in showing that while physical and mental illness may impact the trajectory of a life, neither must limit its fullness.

Read the bravery expressed in this issue’s fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and artwork and discover that by owning your story and finding your voice, the through line of your life can be changed. In “Grace & Grit,” learn from mental-health professional and poetry contest winner Emily Boshkoff, who also manages bipolar disorder, that there is power in sharing your authentic voice. If courageous enough, each of us can examine our own life stories, and—whether they include illness or not—uncover fears, self-limits, and where bias may lie, and then change the narrative when necessary. We need more dauntless souls, like the authors within, to begin this self-excavation and help rebuild a united world post-pandemic, a world where everyone feels empowered to share their authentic voice. Our perceived weaknesses—mental or physical—can become our strengths, our superpowers. Understanding our own stories is where real transformation can take hold. With this greater self-knowledge, healthcare leaders and patients can work together to solve intractable problems like the ignorance that surrounds mental health, and reduce the human and economic costs caused by these diseases.

If in need of immediate help, please seek it. You matter to us!

Tracy Granzyk is the editor in chief of Please See Me.