As I’ve just been reminded that this week is mental health awareness week, I thought I’d do a little kind of mini series thing. Starting with a few bits about me, and then I might just post about other things.
When I was a child, I never had anything wrong with me, well, not medical conditions or so we thought. The only thing I had was that I’m blind. As I grew older, things started happening. When I was in school, I had a support worker who wasn’t very nice to me. I was stuck with her for 12 years. She started off nice, when I was little, but then from the age of about 8 or something like that, she changed. She started telling me off for little things, dragging me by my arms across the room etc. Lots of little things she’d pick on me for, that were trivial. It was secondary school, where things took a turn. I was isolated from everyone, as she’d make me sit alone, away from everyone else. You know how in school you pick your favourite class mate to sit by, so you can maybe exchange notes, laugh with them, sit there and get bored with something in the lesson. I couldn’t. Partly because all my equipment took up one desk, and partly because I wasn’t allowed. If I dared to answer questions in class, I was hissed at by her and told I was a know it all. If I showed my talent for music or anything like that, it was suppressed. I used to love being in the swimming pool, but that changed. One day in school, I was in a PE lesson, one of the rare chances I got to actually join in with the other children and we were in the swimming pool. The support worker got everyone else out of the pool, then got me to swim while holding onto her. I suddenly realised I couldn’t touch the floor, and that she was taking me into the deep end, on purpose. Starting to hyperventilate I tried to stop her. She continued and then tried to force me to let go of her hands. I refused. Telling me I was being silly, and shouting at me, she eventu’ally turned back. As I got older, and nearing my GCSE years, the anxiety of her moods and how I would be treated the next day started to take its tole. I’d have sleepless nights worrying about what would happen the next day. I’d sometimes come home in tears from school, but not tell my nan what was wrong. We tried to report her, but we were never listened too, until year 10, when someone came onto the scene and managed to get her dismissed. After having to coax the info of what had happened out of me. You’re probably wondering, why this long huge essay of a post? Well, I just thought I would write this to start the mental health post. Don’t suffer in silence as I did. Don’t be afraid to answer back as I was. I was too afraid to stand up to her. As a result now, I try to stand up to authority or authoritarian people as much as possible. I guess this is relivant to my assignment I’m doing just now, about autonomy and identity. That experience has changed me. Yes, I never broke any school rules when I was young. I still won’t break rules. Not rules such as the law anyway. But if I think the rule isn’t justified, I will now not be afraid to challenge it. Like I was back then. I’ll come back with another story tomorrow, but what I’m saying is, I’m not afraid to talk about my trauma. I’m not scared to go into detail. I won’t freeze. Because it wins if you do that. Get it out in the open. If not to a therapist, to a friend, or someone you can trust. Even if it means just chatting about it over a cupper or something. If something is on your mind, talk. You never know where it will lead. It may lead to a blossoming friendship. You never know. I was never one for understanding mental health before I started my psychology degree. I used to just think it was all those people who heard voices and things. And because I was taught that they were mad etc, they’d be put away somewhere. Obviously I know now that’s not the case and now society is helping people to understand more about disorders of the brain. You are not mad, you won’t be “put away.” You just have a neurological disorder that can be treated. It can be controlled. You can get help. And don’t be afraid to ask for it. Anyway, I shall go and have my lunch now, and not bor you all anymore. I’ll come back tomorrow with a mental health post. This isn’t a post about me for sympathy. It’s just to take part in the raising awareness of mental health.


