by Kristen Abell
Over the past few weeks, I have felt a sadness welling in me – not necessarily a depression, but more of an overwhelming fear and frustration with my place in the world as someone who experiences mental illness. Several things contributed to this, but the death of a fierce mental health advocate, Carrie Fisher, has definitely pushed it to the brink.
Some of it started with a discussion around “broken” people in student affairs. I have always struggled with this label for someone with mental illness. I am not entirely sure what the intention behind the word “broken” was, but there is a long history of that word being used in that way, and far too many people chimed in agreeing that they did not want to work with “broken” people. While there are some that claim this label proudly – I am broken and glad to be that way – I see it in a slightly different way. I believe that my mental illness does not make me broken but instead makes me a more complex, a richer person. “Crazy isn’t being broken or swallowing a dark secret. It’s you or me amplified” (Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen). This discussion, however, was a reminder to me – I am not welcome. I am broken.
A couple of weeks later, a group that I was a member of on Facebook – which has some incredibly open-minded and great people in it, to be fair – turned its back on me. Someone posted about the language we use when we talk about mental illness, and I chimed in with my own suggestions. When a couple members of the group started to protest – “I thought we were safe to post whatever we wanted here,” and “Oh sorry, do I need to put a trigger warning on all my posts to protect your fragility?” – the group moderator pulled the whole post down. I know on other threads in the past she had instead just closed the comments, so this felt like more of an attack on those of us who were trying to educate about mental illness. This was yet another reminder that because I am “broken,” I am not welcome.
And then Carrie Fisher passed away. Many people mourned online about the loss of Princess Leia, of General Organa, of a feminist role model. And several people even pointed out that we had lost an amazing mental health advocate. So today people are thinking about mental illness and how we need to eradicate stigma – as they do in the moment. Tomorrow I suspect we will forget and move on. And I want to be able to mourn this amazing woman and advocate, but instead, all I can really mourn is the fact that I am part of the broken – only not a Hollywood actress, so again, I am not welcome. (I also want to mention the fact that cis-men, people of color, trans-men/trans-women, or any number of other folx who are deemed “broken” by society just by being themselves and who also experience mental illness are frequently unwelcome in all of these spaces, as well as their own communities).
Mental illness is possibly one of the most isolating experiences a person can have. Even beyond our communities, we often don’t feel welcome in our own homes or among loved ones. So I wanted to take a moment to share this: You are welcome here. As Hemingway says, “The world breaks everyone, and afterward, many are strong at the broken places.” I like to think of The Committed Project as the seam at the broken places – we grow stronger the more “broken” that join us. So remember: You are welcome here. You will always be welcome here. And as we heal our broken places, we will continue to fight to make sure that all of us are welcome everywhere someday.