Yesterday I had the opportunity to be out in public in several different venues. In each situation I felt that I was different, out-of-step, and several times that I was ashamed.
What’s that about?
Then I read several articles and blog posts today with others writing again about the stigma of mental illness. I felt it even when no one knew me. Could just be my own shame of myself, however misplaced that is. Then I remember times I’ve been tongue-tied when I’ve talked with those who live with depression or bipolar. There’s a stigma. There’s some shame as though mental illness is a personal personality flaw that I can help. I’ve heard several people – including myself – wish they had cancer instead. Think about that for a moment.