Mental Health Matters

In my last post I talked about the importance of living in a way that promotes the positive, that celebrates the good, because frankly people / this person with mental illness NEEDS that.  That extra dose of sunshine that sometimes we just don’t get. Over the course of the last few weeks, for my sins, I have in South Africa been engaged about our National Health Insurance, about the provision of services, particularly mental health services.  Ok, I just read that back and laughed out loud.   Literally. No, we don’t have a great frame of reference.

In the one meeting a healthworker suggested that another strike be held to demonstrate what they thought.  What they believed.  Now as I’ve become increasingly Bipolar, my ability to have a poker face has become near to completely impossible, and I showed my disgust.  I mean, isn’t the basic premise of working in the health system that you’d rather not have people die?  That patients needed to stay alive to be treated, and when they did, you’d offer them the best possible service that you could manage within your constraints?   Wouldn’t that be what anyone wanted to do?  I’m not a healthworker, but I thought that was important.  That I wouldn’t want the healthworker I’d need when I was vulnerable to not be there, on strike, or otherwise predisposed.  And that’s pretty much what happens to people with mental illness whether the clinic / hospital is open or closed.  We don’t receive services because sometimes we don’t know we’re ill, sometimes we’re pushed to the back of the row, or triaged as “ok” unless you were slightly more important i.e. dying from a suicide attempt.  Awesome.

From everything I listened to – another person calling our health system – in a conference – Schizophrenic.  I stood up.  I said please don’t say that.  That’s racist to me and everyone who has a mental illness – who my good people – will exceed the number of people living with communicable diseases in the all to near future. Unfortunately.  So I have a better idea.  Let’s start a new conversation.  Let’s start a loud and proud new narrative that brings about fundamental changes to the mental health system the world over.  Let us find the money to provide the kind of mental health services that everyone needs at some point in their lives.  Because actually, people with mental illness in the world are no longer a minority.

Because as much as I have witnessed crumbling health systems, I have also witnessed political will, harnessing of philanthropic interest, a new energy to change things, make things that exist better.  And I firmly believe that where there’s a will, there’s a way.  And not only that, but that we can do it with kindness.  That we can smile.  And we can make mental health – for everyone – matter.  Be part of those who support us as opposed to those who don’t. I am 4 M’s Bipolar Mom.

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