Don't sweep illness under the rug

An estimated 26% of americans age 18 and older suffer from a diagnosable mental disorder in a given year. So chances are you know someone who is mentally ill. Or maybe—like me—you know more than one.

I met Ann when our husbands were stationed together in Mississippi. She was a brilliant writer, and I enjoyed our spirited discussions about life. Ann struggled with bipolar disorder. She hated taking her medicine because it dulled her mind, and so she often skipped it.

I always knew what state of mind Ann was in. If she was manic, she wore garish makeup, overspent, wrote prolifically, and didn’t sleep. If she was depressed, she could hardly get out of bed. Either way, her kids likely suffered from a lack of attention. We keep in touch occasionally, and I know she’s finally found a medicine she can live with.

Traits run in families. My Irish grandfather passed along blue eyes to his descendants. But my German grandmother passed along the gene for mental illness. My oldest cousin dealt with mental illness as a young woman; the youngest struggled with a social phobia and anxiety. We suspect one nephew has autism and experiences delusions, as does my brother. Two nephews and a niece have ADHD; my niece also has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. There’s alcoholism, various addictions and struggles with depression.

My kids get a double whammy on that one—depression runs in my husband’s family, as well.

It’s time to put aside the stigma of mental illness, and quit denying there’s a crisis. It’s a complicated issue, tangled up in lagging insurance benefits, individual rights vs. societal safety, inadequate resources, and a lack of education and understanding.

There are no easy answers, but we won’t find any unless we start asking tough questions—before the next mass shooting. We need a continuing dialogue among policy makers, law enforcement, medical professionals, and family members.

If you know someone who is mentally ill, know you are not alone.