Opinion

College community must continue to address culture of mental health stigmatization

By Grace Ward ’17

Tags opinion

I started having issues with my mental health around middle school.  Each time I brought it up to my mom, she would tell me that as long as I was able to function in school I didn’t need help.  That mentality stuck with me for a long time.  As the years went by, I realized that I wasn’t the only person who thought this way and that there was an implicit social perspective on how people with mental illnesses should function on a daily basis.  If you can get up every day and face the world, then you don’t have an issue.  However, insisting on this mentality results in a problem where one day, you can’t get up and face the world and you just don’t know what to do with yourself.  

Despite the considerable expansion of medical care for mental health problems, talking about issues of mental health is still a societal taboo.  It’s a well-known fact at Hamilton that over half of the student body will seek help at the counseling center at some point, yet we still have so much progress to make when it comes to talking openly about mental health.  The main problem is that so many people don’t understand mental illness, so it is often dismissed as an unimportant issue.  This misunderstanding and dismissal creates a cycle that prevents comprehensive solutions to the challenges that come with mental health.   

My mental health exponentially worsened the summer before coming to Hamilton. I was wrestling with my anxiety every day, but refused to tell anybody because if they knew that I was struggling, they would look at me differently.  During my freshman year, I upheld this facade through the hardships of the death of my uncle and my mother having a malignant brain tumor. Finally, I reached a point in my freshman spring where I couldn’t hold it in anymore and erupted.  After years of harmful coping mechanisms and misinformed ideas of mental health, I had no idea how to handle myself.  I would cope by being mean to most people, shutting myself in my room and eventually not attending most of my classes. 

When the absences started piling up and my professors got suspicious, I would tell them about my mom or my uncle.  However, I never let them know about the mental health challenges I was facing and that I was dealing with it all horribly; I didn’t feel that was an acceptable excuse. 

On campus, the Health Center is a great resource—especially in its recently expanded form.  However, even when resources are available, it can be hard to seek help for mental health issues.  Personally, I often felt ashamed walking into the counseling center because I felt like people were judging me for not being normal.  Whenever people found out I was seeing a counselor, the air would immediately become more awkward.  Looking back, I don’t necessarily think everyone judges people with mental illness.  But I do think people just don’t know how to respond to the topic. If you feel you don’t know how to respond when someone talks about mental health, begin by just listening.  

Responses from friends and professors to my situation showed me the persisting lack of understanding with issues with mental health. When I reached out to a professor explaining that I wouldn’t be able to come to class because of my poor mental health, she never responded. At the end of the semester, however, she told me she lowered my grade for my “unexcused absences.” Trying to talk to friends about my depression elicited responses like “Why? You have so many good things going for you.” They didn’t understand that when you stop being highly functional, there isn’t a reason. 

These incidents pushed me towards the conclusion that the people around me—no matter how lovely they are—might never view my mental illness properly. However, that shouldn’t stop me from caring about myself and my own mental health.  By the end of my sophomore year, I began to accept the state of my mental health. I accepted that the amount that I am able to function on a daily basis might change because of my “mood swings” but that I have to treat high functioning Grace and low functioning Grace with the same amount of care and self-love.  

As a senior, I am a confident person and I love myself deeply. But I still get hit sometimes by my depression and anxiety so hard that it takes time to stand back up. I have de-stigmatized mental illness for myself and most of my friends have come to learn—through their own struggles or through sticking with me through mine—that mental illness is not the demon we often make it out to be.  I am proud that I can talk frankly about mental health with my close friends in a constructive and beneficial way.  Yet, these conversations mostly happen in closed circles.  I know I am not the only person who struggles with mental illness on this campus and I am lucky to have learned how to cope with it the way I have.  Among my friends and me it does not feel like a stigmatized topic.  But there are many times on this campus when it still feels like an unspeakable monster.  

Despite how progressive and understanding Hamilton’s campus is, sometimes there are little things like “unexcused absences” on report cards and “why are you depressed?” comments that perpetuate the implicit social denial and stigma of mental illness as a serious issue. Groups like Minds for Change and their Speak Out events contribute positively to destigmatizing mental illness, yet there is still more to be done.  While many people on the Hill are trying hard to promote open discussions about mental health issues, this supportive community is not reflective of the overarching stigma surrounding mental health problems that persists off the Hill.  

One of the main benefits of a liberal arts education is the emotional growth that each student experiences by being exposed to a wide range of topics and discussions.  We will not be able to grow in this way if we don’t push to destigmatize open discussions and expression of mental health.

All Opinion