Douglas College, Let's Talk Portraits of mental health, illness, and recovery Compiled by Rebecca Peterson, Assistant Editor Speaking up about mental health is important—it also requires strength and bravery. The following testi- monials are the words of fellow classmates, coworkers, friends, and family who experience mental illness. It’s time to talk, but most importantly, it’s also time to listen. Finding a voice Hi there! My name is Davie, and for the better part of seven years I’ve struggle with depression. Depression isn’t a simple concept. It’s a complicated animal that runs wild amongst the amazon that is your mind. Explaining depression isn’t easy. I’m not entirely convinced it can be explained. But it can be talked about. Throughout my childhood, I was taught that I shouldn't talk to other people about my feelings. My gender reinforced that I was supposed to be strong, or figure out how to fix the problem myself. My culture taught me that it’s unacceptable to feel how I felt, and that letting other people know that I felt depressed would bring shame on my parents and my family. For years I felt like I couldn't talk to anyone, couldn't express how I felt. For years I felt like I was alone. But Bell Let’s Talk Day changed everything for me. All of the sudden, I wasn’t alone. It gave me the courage to speak out, and find the help that I needed. It changed my life. All it took was someone to talk to me, and someone to listen. So please, Vaan speak out. Let’s talk about mental illness. Let’s break down the walls that society has built. Davie Wong onan ih, ih sil — a a | grew into my anxiety I walk with a clunky leg brace and mask to help me breathe. People question what is wrong with me constantly; they wonder how my body is doing but nobody ever assumes that maybe my mind also needs some work. I saw a psychologist when I was younger. Psychotherapy was mandated for all kids with profound life-altering diagnoses at BC Children’s hospital. After being assessed, she was shocked that I did not suffer from anxiety or depression. But as I grew older, I grew into my anxiety. For me, anxiety comes in the form of crippling perfectionism. I recognize that my perfectionism is unrealistic. I know I won’t meet the goals I set for myself but am surprised and disappointed each and every time I don’t. Perfectionism is not being able to sleep from the guilt of not working or studying or doing some- thing seemingly more productive than resting. Perfectionism is not self-control. It is not admirable. Having people so in tune with a deteriorating physical body is hard but having nobody notice what is happening in your mind is equally as difficult. Bailey Martens Little victories Some days I wake up and it feels like the end of the world. Some days I wake up and feel fine. The annoying thing is I have absolutely no control over this. I can fall asleep knowing I’m safe and loved, then wake up the next morning feeling as if everyone I know has never cared about me. My depression is a physical weight on me. My limbs feel heavier, I move slower, sometimes I even find it harder to breathe. It’s no wonder why I have a hard time living my life during an episode when getting out of bed can feel like an accomplishment big enough to warrant a tickertape parade. It’s even worse when my anxiety joins the party. If depression is a weight, then anxiety is a shot of adrenaline straight to my heart. It’s like having a devil and angel on your shoulder, except one is saying you're a piece of shit because of all the things that might happen, and the other says you're a piece of shit no matter what happens. How do you deal with that? How do you live your life knowing that at any given moment one of two illness (or both, if you're really lucky) will take over and completely change how you think and feel about everything? I wish I knew. It sucks, feeling like your world revolves around such a bullshit part of you. I guess, for me, it’s the little victories; like finding the energy to make a cup of tea, or the courage to tell someone what’s actually going on. One day I hope to have more than little victories to show for my efforts, but for now they’re enough. Jessica P.