If my mental disorder showed like a broken leg, all of the doctors and therapists I have seen would know how to fix it immediately. They would know to put a cast over the bone, give me time to heal, and connect me to the right resources, like a physical therapist who could help me learn to walk again. They wouldn’t have to guess which medication would work best for my body to numb the pain without giving me a crazy reaction. They would know that a few Ibuprofens would probably get me through the day. Sadly, my mental disorder is not something that can be x-rayed and casted. It is invisible.
If my mental disorder showed like a broken arm, people wouldn’t question as to why hugging me right away as a reactant to my pain is not always the best solution. People would know that I couldn’t function the way I always do when I had two of my arms, and that I am trying my best to function with just one. No one would ever question as to why I don’t have as much strength as I did before my arm was broken and healing. They wouldn’t tell me to “buckle up my boot straps and toughen up”. They would know that the smallest bit of pressure could cause my broken bone to fracture even more. They would be understanding and compassionate.
If my mental disorder showed like a broken back, missing a day or two of work would be expected. My employers would know that I couldn’t function in my job at the slightest. They would know that I, at least, need a couple of days or even a week to lay in bed and get some sleep. They would know that I never get it during the night because of the uncomfortable tossing and turning and the constant worrying about my injury. They would understand my restlessness, my random crying at the unexpected outbursts of pain, and that the way I carry myself is going to be different for a long while, but I just can’t help it.
If my mental disorder showed like a pair of broken ribs, people would understand why suddenly it can be hard to breathe. They would know that I am trying to focus on each breath that is coming in and out of my mouth to try to relax and to calm the agony that is inside of me. People would have more of an understanding of my loss of appetite, because each bite and swallow could be unbearable at times. They would understand that my fatigue and lack of energy were only because my mind and body are spending so much time trying to heal what is going on inside of me and that the loss of appetite doesn’t help.
If my mental disorder showed like two broken hands, people would understand why I can’t get a hard grip on just about anything sometimes. They would understand that I can’t always pick up a weight at the gym to increase my endorphins, or pick up my bedroom in order to have a clean environment. They would know that, without my two hands, it’s hard to get up and pick up just about anything. People would know that my hands would take time to heal. They would be understanding when I came off irritable, angry, or sad that I can no longer use this day-to-day function “normally” like everyone around me can. You see, almost everyone has two functioning hands, but I do not.
Mental disorders are unseeable. They do not show like a broken bone, and they are not visible to society, friends, or family. Everyone is taught how to put a bandage on a bleeding wound, but we are not taught how to recognize symptoms of someone with depression or another mental illness. We are taught to be filled with toxic positivity rather than to recognize that the broken bone (mental illness) exists and hurts. No one tells you “Don’t worry, just cheer up and it will get better,” while you are lying on the floor with a broken ankle or arm. Even though more awareness has grown for mental illness, many still don’t understand that it is as serious as a physical injury. Many still assume that because it’s something no one can see, it is not as relevant or important to address, and this just shouldn’t be the case. Show compassion, love, care and kindness to those around you. Recognize that being sad or angry or anxious is perfectly okay. Never dismiss it. There are millions of people around us that have invisible broken bones that they are dealing with everyday, and we just don’t know it.
Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696
Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-8433
Trans Lifeline: 877-565-8860
LGBTQ National Hotline: 1-888-843-4564