Are We Talking Too Much About Mental Health… or Symptoms?
The New York Times recently published an article exploring whether programs at schools are helping or worsening the mental health crisis for today’s youth.
“…some researchers are saying that we are in danger of overdoing it. Mental health awareness campaigns, they argue, help some young people identify disorders that badly need treatment — but they have a negative effect on others, leading them to over-interpret their symptoms and see themselves as more troubled than they are,” wrote Ellen Barry.
As open dialogue about mental health is being normalized, we need effective storytelling in order to teach children healthy coping skills, and to create more workspaces where individuals can thrive. I’ll start by sharing my personal story with an example of messaging that impacted my mental health, and the price I paid for not getting treatment.
My Story: Tough for A Girl
Growing up, I was a bit of a girly tomboy. I loved riding my ATV on sand dunes, racing against men and usually winning, jumping 10–20 feet in the air. I felt proud every time I was told how impressive it was, especially for a girl. By the time I was 17, I was comfortable driving 6-hour road trips through the desert in my cherry-red Jeep.
Although I was a typical girl who liked the color pink, loved to dress up, and had ridiculous crushes on boys, I would try just about anything. Buy a motorcycle and ride it solo across America? Sure! Go to Alaska to work at fisheries during the summer to earn college tuition? Why not!
When I shared stories about my adventures with people, I often got that same message, “wow, you’re tough!” Some women told me they could never. Most men shared how impressive they thought it was, with some saying that they never knew a girl who did the things I did.
This instilled in me the belief that being tough like a boy meant I was special. This left a deep impression, along with many other biased messages that girls and Deaf children commonly receive.
“Tough girl” was one of the many labels that made me deny my true self for most of my life. I did not learn to love, or how to live with the… girly, feely side of me. The truth is, I’m brave, and adventurous — not tough. I am actually deeply sensitive and have very intense feelings, which I typically bottled up.
…fast forward to the grown adult Deaf woman I am now: a serial entrepreneur; double-cancer survivor, chronically ill since then; a mom of two adult sons; and married for over 20 years, with 15 of those years as business partners. This means that on top of a lifetime habit of repressing my feelings, I also lived with discrimination, extreme stress, illness, conflict with the same partner at work and home, and unresolved trauma.
Throughout the many joyful moments of my life, which include cherished family moments, professional and personal wins, stories full of characters that make me laugh, and lovely memories with friends, the hard truth is — there was always a subtle undercurrent of discontent that I ignored, telling myself, “you’re being ridiculous, you are blessed. Lucky to even be alive!” Looking back, knowing what I know now, I realize it was anxiety. Unfortunately, I developed many unhealthy coping habits and didn’t seek treatment.
The Slow Cycle of Chronic Burnout
Over time, I became increasingly anxious, quick to anger, easily frustrated, and socially withdrawn. At one point, I read an article by a fellow female entrepreneur about developing anxiety while building her business. As she described her symptoms, it hit me — I too had clearly developed an anxiety disorder.
At first, I approached my anxiety as something to battle, and I spent years fighting it. I tried to control my environment and keep it trigger-free, cultivate safe spaces, and manage expectations with people using many different tactics. It was exhausting. I even separated from my husband, angry at him and others for not getting “with the program.”
Like a yo-yo, there were ups and downs. When I got involved with new projects and people - feeling the enthusiasm, I’d bounce back quickly, re-energized by a burst of excitement. However, just like a sugar rush leads to a crash, it wasn’t long before work started to feel like a slog again, and I’d gradually slide back into a state of burnout.
After multiple repeats of this cycle, coping became a lost art, and the anxiety disorder became debilitating. Crippling. I became a repeat visitor to the prison of my mind, and as a “tough girl,” I felt deeply ashamed of being weak. My self-image of toughness was being shattered, and I felt lost, confused about who I really was.
To make things worse, I kept taking on ambitious work projects, likely the thrill-seeker in me looking for an outlet. The combination of anxiety, overwork, and stress led to massive, complete burnout, from which it is taking years to fully heal.
My Healing Journey & Why I Had to DIY
As a Deaf person, getting help was challenging. It induced anxiety to find a therapist I could trust, who was fluent in ASL or at least familiar with Deaf culture, and in-network with my insurance.
My partner, who is also Deaf, and I tried couples counseling through a widely used therapy app with a text chat function. However, it was not helpful at all — it added to our stress and frustration due to its inaccessibility. The app arranged a meeting with a therapist via video, but it did not have captioning features (Chrome’s live transcription feature hadn’t been released yet), and the therapist was unwilling to provide counseling through the text chat.
Determined to achieve wellness, I embarked on a “DIY” healing journey; practicing yoga, gardening, journaling, and trying out multiple apps until I found one that was accessible and met my needs. I also read books written by psychiatrists, performed the exercises, and took on the challenges. To find methods for healing, I also read many medical studies and articles — interestingly, the most insightful takeaway was learning about the many high-risk categories that applied to me — more than five.
It turns out that it was inevitable. Developing an anxiety disorder is a completely normal response to the life I’ve led.
I’ve not been okay for a long time, and that’s fine.
Once I fully embraced my authentic self, offering myself acceptance, forgiveness, compassion, and love, the anxiety attacks began to subside, and I regained a sense of myself and my spirit once again. For a long time, it was still touch and go until I had a few truly wonderful, amazing social connections a few months apart, and that was the ultimate remedy for me.
How did I get here?
Throughout youth, everyone receives messages from various people and places, which shape one’s belief system about the world and the person they are. If these beliefs conflict with their inner values or lead to critical judgments, it will inevitably lead to a decline in mental health, self-confidence, and inner spirit.
“Authenticity is about being true to yourself — expressing your inner thoughts and feelings on the outside. Instead of wearing a mask, you let people see what’s really going on inside your head. When we can’t do that, studies show it’s stifling. The pressure to conform to other people’s expectations puts us in an emotional straitjacket, leading to stress and exhaustion.” Adam Grant wrote in an older New York Times article, “The Fine Line Between Helpful and Harmful Authenticity.”
Since I didn’t embrace my true nature due to the messages I’d received throughout my youth, it opened the door for mental illness to occur when major life events were happening. Had I been in alignment with myself from the beginning, it would have been much clearer when I needed help, earlier on, with less damage done.
According to ADAA, anxiety affects 40 million adults in the United States aged 18 and older, or over 18% of the population every year. Anxiety is highly treatable, developing from a complex set of risk factors, including genetics, brain chemistry, personality, and life events. Yet, only 36.9% of those affected receive treatment. For youth, the situation is worse: anxiety disorders affect 31.9% of adolescents between 13 and 18 years old.
Less Symptoms, More Storytelling
In the recent New York Times article I mentioned earlier, Barry wrote that researchers “speculated that the training programs ‘bring awareness to upsetting thoughts,’ encouraging students to sit with darker feelings, but without providing solutions, especially for societal problems like racism or poverty. They also found that the students didn’t enjoy the sessions and didn’t practice at home.”
I believe that more stories like mine need to be told to help youth learn practices such as compassion — a focus on habits rather than sheer willpower — how to explore and find what works for them, not the “norm” — and above all, developing skills in getting the support they need, especially when going through upsetting life situations.
In sum, the goal should be awareness of wellness, not so much mental illness.
Three Very Important Takeaways
In sum, the journey I had in recovering from burnout, I learned:
- Mental illness and emotional sensitivity is not weakness. It can actually be an incredible strength in the right setting.
- Awareness of risk categories are very important. This helps to know when its time to seek treatment, or take preventive action.
- Find your people. All the work I did was absolutely necessary, but the final, and most important part of the cure was social connection.
In coming weeks, I will be publishing more on this topic, particularly focusing on the intersection of mental health and (in)accessibility, and how this experience was a part of shaping the vision for a #NewEventida.
