Mental Health issues have been much on my mind this week, more so even than usual. In the mainstream news in the UK supermarkets ASDA and Tesco were obliged to withdraw Halloween costumes of mental health patients due to a huge public outcry. This week newspaper The Sun published a 'clarification' about a headline they had run which read, '1,200 killed by mental health patients,' which some people, including me, thought gave a widely misleading impression. The Sun has corrected this. Thorpe Park has received criticism about a Halloween 'asylum' maze in which people are chased around by the insane. They have stuck to their guns and pointed out that the portrayal of asylums is not realistic. Personally, I think that's precisely the problem.

Meanwhile, on twitter, I have been following a lady who is both a mental health nurse and a mental health sufferer, who has been live tweeting from the hospital where she has been receiving residential psychiatric care. I also follow another lady who is a carer for her partner, who has mental health problems, and who tweets and blogs (what a modern world we live in) about her experiences. Both stories tell similar, which is to say mixed, stories. Lovely nurses who take time out to chat and just ask them how they are, and meetings full of specialists which drag on and achieve nothing. It's not a wholly positive picture, but not a completely negative one either. It is, at least, a thorough picture.

Because this is the biggest cause of stigma and prejudice. Ignorance. Most people will make judgements about mental health, for better or worse, based on their knowledge and experience and, thankfully, a lot of people do not have much experience of mental health issues. For this reason then, the courage and efficacy with which people are sharing their experiences online gives everyone else a new perspective and a better understanding of the challenges faced by people suffering from mental health issues. And the challenges faced by their carers.

So this is me, bringing it round to me, as usual. But then this is the point of this little space in the universe – I am here, I hope, to let you know how it is to be a carer. Part of that experience is that the less well understood the maladies of our loved ones are, the less well people understand what we are trying to cope with. I can only speak for myself on this point, but I tend to shy away from explaining to people what my wife's mental health issues are, and how they present themselves. It feels intrusive to me, breaking a confidence. I feel that this story is hers to tell, not mine. The trouble with that is that when her moods and behaviour leave me drained, stressed, demoralised and short on fuse room I can't really tell anyone. I can't tell them what she's like, because… it's not what she like, it's how the illness makes her. But it's hard to explain that to someone who isn't familiar with the problems, so I don't. So I am left to cope with the fallout (as in nuclear) when she is at her worst (I HATE YOU I HATE YOU/Sleep/I'm sorry I was so awful, I don't deserve you/repeat) and then move on with my day without being able to explain to anyone how I am feeling.

So let's just compare approaches, shall we? Mental health problems are wide ranging and complex, and the general representation of the mentally ill exclusively as axe wielding psychos is deeply counterproductive. I am not prepared to let anyone off with the excuse that it is a bit of harmless fun and everybody knows mental illness isn't really like that. To prove my point, take the last sentence, remove 'mental illness' and replace it with 'child abuse' Now read it again and tell me if that's okay. It's not fun, and people stupid enough to imagine other people's suffering and misery are shallow enough subjects to be converted into artless amusement are only displaying the depth of their own ignorance and the lack of their ability to empathise or care. We don't need those jerks.

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benjaminpmoore

28.10.13 Front Page

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