Aisling Curtis | Senior Staff Writer
We talk a lot about the state of mental health in Ireland today. As more of our friends and family members don’t receive the care they deserve, it’s something that must be discussed and resolved with urgency. Although mental illness is still a foggy area in psychological and neurological research – accessing the structures that produce pathology isn’t easy, not with such a complex brain – there have been significant strides in clarifying many pathologies that afflict us. Mild to moderate depression is often successfully treated with a combination of cognitive behavioural therapy and antidepressant medication. We know more about the risk factors and neurotransmitters underlying schizophrenia than ever before. Stressors that can predict mental illness have been isolated and tested on mice. No more the screaming madman of antiquity, mental illness is an ensemble of treatable, comprehensible conditions, and as medicine progresses our understanding will continue to grow.
Alongside research progress, strides have been made in more mundane, person-to-person understanding of what exactly these illnesses constitute. The discussions that have occurred this year have been revolutionary, and more people are opening up. From the TCD talks videos, to brave personal accounts in both student and national media, we’re seeing an unprecedented honesty that can only improve services and support. For me, as a psychology student who spends more time talking about these issues than the average person, it’s brilliant to see more reasoned compassion for those who are mentally ill. But in this outpour of discussion and empathy, there’s a specific subsection that can be forgotten, neglected in discussions of how to care for those who are mentally ill, their needs underestimated or misjudged.
It’s not a toss-up between supporting people who are ill and supporting the people who care about them. It’s not a game of “my problems are worse than yours”. Both groups deserve compassion and understanding.
They constitute the family members and friends, the so-called “normal” people whose lives have been affected by illness amongst those they love. A miserable side-effect of the destructiveness of psychological disorder is that it often overwhelms: overwhelms the patient, and overwhelms those who care about him or her, who are caught up in a turmoil that is nobody’s fault. Though I have nothing but compassion for those who struggle with psychological chaos – and the myriad physical and affective challenges that accompany it – the nature of their illnesses can inflict severe damage on those who try to help. Just as caring for a sufferer of Alzheimer’s or cancer can cause depression and anxiety, caring for somebody who is schizophrenic or bipolar can leave its own mental and physical scars.
The victims of these victims can be classed as victims themselves. Sociologists Gallagher and Mechanic used data from the National Health Interview Survey to determine that family members of psychologically-ill people often have poorer health outcomes and a greater tendency to use medical care structures. Mental illness can be infectious, raising stress levels of care-givers, triggering dormant psychological problems or creating new ones. And for families racked by severe mental consequences such as suicide, the unique blend of guilt, blame, and emotional distress can have effects that last for years, devastating social relationships and distorting the lives of surviving family and friends.
The destruction wreaked by those with disordered mental health is unintentional, but it’s destruction nonetheless. Not only is there not an emphasis on services for relatives and friends, but it often seems like they are not considered when mental illness is discussed. However, this is not an attack on these sufferers. The advances we’ve witnessed in mental health understanding this year, in talking and sharing your problems with family and friends, is progressive, inspiring, motivational. That legacy of silence and shame, the product of a past culture, should be well and truly eschewed.
For those who know what I’m talking about, and count somebody who struggles with mental illness among their family or friends, it can feel like your emotions or concerns are dwarfed by the overwhelming struggle with which your loved one contends. But it’s not a toss-up between supporting people who are ill and supporting the people who care about them. It’s not a game of “my problems are worse than yours”. Both groups deserve compassion and understanding, and only by talking about the bystanders and their issues can we start building a comprehensive mental health support network that takes all affected parties into account.
