Please don’t tell me...
that it’s bad for your mental health.
I’ve thought a lot about you over the last month. Honestly. As things have cropped up, like this post from Emma Gannon about knowing when to quit, or Lisa Olivera’s article on loving those parts of ourselves that we would rather hide, or finding out that Jacqueline Suskin is doing a session on the many facets of capacity this weekend. I’ve thought about sharing them with you, because they struck a cord with me due to their underlying soothing message of ‘It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.’
And whilst I’m not narcissistic enough to believe that if it interests me then it MUST interest you, there are likely to be things that resonate for both of us, simply by the fact that we are both here, both human. Me writing, you reading, both feeling ‘okay’ sometimes, but not all times.
I thought about writing about relapses; about how we are in February and the resolutions are likely to be wearing off if, like me, you said aloud that ‘resolutions weren’t for you’, but had still made a secret mental note of things that you would do more of, or less of, or never again. Yet here I am, doing less of, and more of, and always still…
So they were the nearly newsletters. But I decided to write on a subject that permeates through everything I do, but is never clearly on the surface; which is: I want us to stop talking about our ‘poor mental health.’
You know…
'I lost my job and that was bad for my mental health'
Were you not afraid, confused, angry?
'I came off social media because of my mental health.'
Did social media not make you feel inadequate, overwhelmed, envious?
'My mother died and it’s really impacted my mental health.'
Are you not dealing with grief, vulnerability, dread?
‘Mental health’ is spoken about daily in mainstream media. People are more aware than ever about the idea of ‘mental health’, yet we aren't seeing an improvement with this raised awareness. In fact, we’re seeing a growing trend in self-diagnosis thanks to social media of all the disorders created by our ‘poor mental health’.
‘Mental illness’ is, in most cases, not mental at all, but to do with a dysregulated nervous system which most people are not equipped to manage. Yet we talk about mental illness because our emotional states have become medicalised into ‘mental health disorders’.
How did the criteria for these disorders come about? Were people scientifically tested? A blood sample perhaps, or genetic testing?
Nope.
The criteria for mental health disorders are there because they were voted in based upon the decisions of a group of 9 psychiatrists who, by committee, decided what should be classified as a disorder and what shouldn’t.
In his book ‘Cracked’ James Davies recalls an interview that he did with one of the psychologists, Renee Garfinkel, who was part of the advisory committee for documenting these disorders. She recounted to Davies how there was a discussion about whether a particular behaviour should be classed as a symptom of a particular disorder. As Davies reports, one Taskforce member declared,
‘Oh no, no, we can’t include that behaviour as a symptom because I do that!’ (p.30)
Spitzer, the lead psychiatrist in creating this ‘bible’ of disorders known as the Diagnostic and Statistics Manual (DSM) stated,
‘There are very few disorders whose definition was a result of specific research data.’
Epilepsy, Alzheimers and Huntingdon’s disease are grounded in specific scientific research data, but things like general anxiety disorder, depression, oppositional defiance disorder are not.
You can see Dr. James Davies talk more on this subject here.
Does this mean that the experiences of the people with these conditions are null and void?
God no, the distress is real.
Does it mean that ‘it’s all in their heads’?
Absolutely not, the distress is real.
What it means is that many of our behaviours are appropriate trauma responses which have been diagnosed as a disorder. Trauma isn’t a big scary word or only suitable for big scary incidents. Trauma is when, for whatever reason, your body goes into fight, flight, freeze, fawn or flop and it cannot return to its state of wellbeing (often known as the parasympathetic state).
It doesn’t mean that they are any less serious or difficult or painful, it just means that they are understandable responses as a result of what has happened to us. THIS is why it is important to ask what has happened to people, to understand context.
Luckily, we all have an inbuilt system to alert us to this dysregulation and when we learn how to tune into that, learn from it and manage what it tells us to do, I believe we will see a positive impact on our ‘mental health’.
So what is this system?
It’s feelings!
When we had feelings as a child most of us were taught that they weren’t ok.
So we hid them away and masked them so that we are ‘FINE’.
Fine. Hmm.
F**ked Up
Insecure
Neurotic
Emotional.
Now, if we are feeling those feelings which we learnt as unacceptable and ended up hiding them, even from ourselves, we have developed this shorthand: ‘It’s bad for my mental health.’
Saying, ‘It’s bad for our mental health’ is a poor short hand, robbing us of a rich life.
The problem is, we haven’t been taught a feelings vocabulary. In fact, Brené Brown’s research in her book Atlas of the Heart revealed that on average people can label 3 feelings - happy sad and angry. Yet there are about 87 distinct feelings that we can feel!
But currently, just as we use aspirin to get rid of a headache we use behaviours and substances to medicate our emotional pain away. Maybe we have a drink or two before a social gathering to steady our nerves, we zone out, binge watching TV after a stressful day at work or scroll Instagram when we are feeling lonely, eat a pack of biscuits in one sitting to stuff down that anger.
Just have a think, we all have out go-tos for numbing. What are yours?
We all want a way to soothe ourselves and not be in pain and that is totally understandable.
But the feelings underneath, even the painful ones, can be useful and alert us to necessary changes that we need to make. We have a built in mechanism of feelings to help us know what we need to do, we just haven’t been taught how to use it properly.
Paying attention to emotions can do so much to help our mental health as they are sign posts for what we need to thrive.
This is why I have started the weekly ‘Feelings School’ newsletter for paid subscribers. If you are interested then you can subscribe by clicking the button here.
Because feelings are the macronutrients to the soul!
Crikey, that was a longer part of the post than planned. If you are still here reading, well done. Here is a recording of a poem that will be on my podcast episode with Ingrid Clayton coming out this Friday. Dr. Ingrid Clayton has become a bit of an Instagram sensation with her funny reels about narcissistic abuse and complex trauma. Anyone that can make light of a heavy subject like that deserves respect! I was delighted when she said yes to coming on to my podcast.
We speak about emotional and covert sexual abuse, addiction recovery, narcissism and so much more. If you ever found yourself thinking ‘It wasn’t that bad’ about what you went through, then I recommend a listen.
I’d also love to know what you think of the poem set to music. It as fun to have a little play around!
Finally, I want to share a poem that I wrote for my son. He received a letter from a school to say that his application to that school had been unsuccessful. I had my own experience of this with university applications (I was only accepted by one university when I applied, but that’s another story!) and was really dreading having to deal with a rejection letter. How did we deal with it? Why, with a poem of course. I’m glad to report that he bounced back pretty quickly because, thank God, his sense of worth is not wrapped up in an exam score.
He’s the one that got away
We received your rejection letter today
And yes, it was with great dismay;
But I need to tell you, need to say:
He’s the one that got away
And you may not notice right away,
May go about your normal day
But soon you’ll realise plain as day, that:
He’s the one that got a way.
For my son’s sweet mind’s as bright as his smile
And even though he didn’t pass your trial
He’s full of charisma, full of style
I’ll just let that sink in a while…
No, he’s never played the violin,
And there’s not a play that he was in,
And tennis is not where he will win,
But have you seen his open hearted grin?
And I hear what you have to say:
‘Too many children to find a way’
To invite him in your school to stay
But I need to tell you, need to say:
He’s the one that got away.
Thanks as ever for subscribing. If you have enjoyed it please let other people know about it or show your support by buying my book! If you have already bought it please leave a review. (A glowing one, obvs.)
That’s it for now, ‘til next time
Jacky x