U is for Understanding
One of the hardest things about having a mental illness is the perpetual fear of being constantly misunderstood.
There is a reason for this: We often ARE misunderstood.
Through no fault of our own, nor of our loved ones.
They just don’t know what we’re going through.
And sometimes, we don’t, either.
And if we don’t help them, they won’t learn how to help us.
And if we don’t help ourselves, they won’t be able to get through to us.
It’s just really hard to walk in someone else’s shoes when you’re dealing with brain-based disorders.
The sticky, dark feelings of depression, or the sweaty specificity of compulsions in OCD are truly hard to articulate.
We still know so little about the brain, and so we attempt to diagnose and treat mood disorders through collecting and connecting constellations of symptoms, and making educated, subjective guesses. If a pattern of behavior emerges, the patient will be diagnosed with something, and then a plan will begin to take shape.
But what do you do with that something?
That’s where understanding comes in.
When a diagnosis is given, it is usually largely unfamiliar to both the recipient and their loved ones.
We usually all have a long road ahead on the path of coping and understanding.
It’s a learning curve for everyone involved.
You need to be willing to read up, study up, grow up, and accept that your loved one has a real illness.
In a way, being someone with a mental illness means living in a different place. Perhaps a different planet, even.
Learning more about it helps loved ones understand, or at least, feel more comfortable around the illness, and the person it has trapped in its gaping maw.
But you don’t have to understand someone’s diagnosis in order to be helpful. You just need an open mind. For decades before my first diagnosis, my Mum knew that I was struggling, and that there was some kind of chemical storm raging inside of me. She always knew it. And she always sought to understand it. Knowledge comes first, then understanding. She was my savior. Because of her, I didn’t believe that I was truly useless and crazy.
My whole family has had to learn and try to understand some of my more challenging behaviors over the years. It’s not easy, but understanding goes such a long way for everyone involved. And the support I get from my very fine family is really quite remarkable. Sometimes I miss family (and other) activities due to some of my condition’s constraints. That makes me sad, but even if I have to rest or can’t get out for the event, I still feel loved and accepted. So what more could you ask for?
So what I’m saying in a very long-winded way is this:
- Give everyone in your family and friend circles a chance to be understanding of your mental illness.
- Don’t reject them because they seem to be rejecting you. They’re just scared.
- Give them a chance.
- Encourage them to ask questions.
- Educate them politely.
- Express yourself and ask them to do the same.
- Thank them for being there for you.
We only gain true understanding through true communication, and we only gain that from open hearts and authentic connection. Or, you know, love. Unconditional love.
As long as you understand that your loved one is struggling with an illness, you can learn to understand more about it, and you can help. It will feel good to be helpful. And good to be helped.
All anyone really wants in life, I think, is to be seen and validated. Asking questions and listening are your tools for understanding pretty much anything that crosses your path. And even if you don’t ever fully understand what your loved one is going through, that’s okay. Trying is enough. And, ultimately, when you open your heart, love will win the day.
