Stop the Shame Campaign
Tax deductible
Last week, I participated in my first Family to Family class that’s offered throughout the year by NAMI Billings. This twelve-week course, which is free of charge, is for family members of those affected by mental illness, and focuses on a variety of topics and interactive discussions that include but are not limited to: current research on brain disorders, effective methods of recovery, understanding the experiences of someone who has a mental illness, workshops to address positive communication skills, acquiring strategies for handling relapse, and learning how a family member can care for themselves while also supporting their loved one. The program has proven to result in improvement and problem solving abilities of persons closest to an individual living with a mental health condition. Talk about rad.
During discussion in the class, something that was said struck me and has weighed heavily on my heart since. The statement was as follows:
When you have a mental illness and have an episode/relapse, there's no one coming to your house to bring you soup, to look after your pets, to help with your laundry. No, suddenly people disappear—becoming distant as though they are going to catch the illness, too.
I find this sentiment so powerful. As I absorbed these words, I looked around to see everyone else in the room nodding their head in unison, sharing in the heartbreak of knowing the familiarity of this scenario and the stigmas involved all too well. Why do we respond to an affliction of the mind so differently from an affliction of the body? Why are we so quick to turn our backs and mock, judge, and fear those suffering from symptoms of a mental illness but are equally as quick to rally behind someone with the symptoms of a physical illness? My questions are not an attack on the support of those with physical illnesses—quite the contrary actually—but are instead a cry for the treatment of them equally. This is an appeal from the heart.
I suffer from panic attacks and oftentimes debilitating anxiety. Anyone who shares my experience--my heart goes out to you. Beyond my own anxiety though, I have a family member who is affected by a serious mental illness and it has changed my thinking, my life, and my heart tremendously. Understanding that the illness will never just disappear for them and that the cycle of recovery is likely to have one, if not many, relapses, is hard to accept at times, and I share in their pain and frustration. I know well the rollercoaster of emotions that goes with seeing someone making leaps in progress and then suddenly being struck with the reemergence of severe symptoms. From hospitalizations to suicide rates, the statistics for serious mental illnesses are there and always a reminder of how attentive I need to be to the signs of relapse for my loved one. I know what it's like to dread the nighttime, and to have nightmares about those middle of the night crisis phone calls that worry you into the weeks to come. I know what it's like to go days without sleep, sitting awake all night in fear of the possibilities of what this relapse could bring, but then having to function normally in the daylight hours as though you are not consumed by the thoughts of your loved ones' safety and well being. I have known too well the way society has silenced the dialogue about mental illness—and that to freely voice either your own experiences with mental illness or that of a loved one you are risking serious stigmatization. No one who has a mental illness, or has a loved one with one, should ever have to suffer in silence—and the fact that we have normalized the idea that people needn’t openly talk about their struggles and triumphs with mental illness is a social disservice to all. I have refused to comply with those toxic expectations anymore.
In the midst of my struggle I became drawn to NAMI, which stands for the National Alliance on Mental Illness, because of its mission to educate, support, and advocate for all those affected by mental illness—whether it's someone with a mental illness or a loved one of someone with a mental illness. At the local affiliate NAMI Billings where I am a VISTA volunteer, this grassroots organization stays true to its original structure of being peer-driven—its support groups, education courses, and outreach efforts are still all run by dedicated volunteers. NAMI Billings also continues to provide its services to the public free of charge, making what we offer here accessible to everyone. Because we are committed to providing services in this way and we do not receive any State or Federal grant funding, we depend on individual donations to run all of our programs, to have new group and education program facilitators attend training at the state level, to print and provide all outreach materials, to support our small staff of 1 part-time employee, and to keep our doors open and lights on so that we can continue providing our essential services.
What we do at NAMI Billings is vital to the community. Be it the weekly support groups or its education classes, NAMI Billings provides a safe space for those to share in their stories and experiences, to learn ways in which they can advocate for themselves, to learn about effective strategies for recovery, and to be with others facing similar circumstances to know they are not fighting this alone. At the same time, NAMI Billings actively educates and raises awareness in the community about mental illness so that stigmas can be lessened, a platform for conversation can be built, and a path for real understanding will be paved. For me and so many others, NAMI Billings has been a place for me to call home. It truly saves people. Since becoming involved there, I've never felt more empowered and supported to end my silence and encourage others to do the same.
Please consider donating to our first Stop the Shame Campaign at NAMI Billings through this page, where all proceeds will go toward NAMI Programs that are available to anyone free of charge. All donations are tax-deductable. This campaign will extend through Mental Illness Awareness Week (October 4-10). Our hopes are—through sharing our own stories—to raise awareness for mental illness, to fight the stigmas associated with mental illnesses, and to encourage people to see the person for their human qualities without defining them by their illness. We need you to help us stop the shame directed toward those living with mental illness. If we look with our hearts, I truly believe that an unending compassion towards those struggling toward a path of recovery will blossom, an understanding of what it really means to have a mental illness will be encouraged, and an infinite amount of support can be extended for those affected. Act with your heart today. Share your story, share someone else's story, or make it a point to bring mental illness to the forefront of a conversation. We're all in this together. Help us stop the shame.
Check our NAMI Billings website for more info about what NAMI is all about. Please contact me with any questions or concerns. If you're interested in telling your story, please please contact me :)
NAMI Billings Webpage
Beaming love and light,
Kaitlyn
*This organization has been granted non-profit status under Section 501(c) (3) of the Internal Revenue Service Code. Contributions to this organization are deductable for federal income tax purposes; Federal Tax ID # 810507324.
During discussion in the class, something that was said struck me and has weighed heavily on my heart since. The statement was as follows:
When you have a mental illness and have an episode/relapse, there's no one coming to your house to bring you soup, to look after your pets, to help with your laundry. No, suddenly people disappear—becoming distant as though they are going to catch the illness, too.
I find this sentiment so powerful. As I absorbed these words, I looked around to see everyone else in the room nodding their head in unison, sharing in the heartbreak of knowing the familiarity of this scenario and the stigmas involved all too well. Why do we respond to an affliction of the mind so differently from an affliction of the body? Why are we so quick to turn our backs and mock, judge, and fear those suffering from symptoms of a mental illness but are equally as quick to rally behind someone with the symptoms of a physical illness? My questions are not an attack on the support of those with physical illnesses—quite the contrary actually—but are instead a cry for the treatment of them equally. This is an appeal from the heart.
I suffer from panic attacks and oftentimes debilitating anxiety. Anyone who shares my experience--my heart goes out to you. Beyond my own anxiety though, I have a family member who is affected by a serious mental illness and it has changed my thinking, my life, and my heart tremendously. Understanding that the illness will never just disappear for them and that the cycle of recovery is likely to have one, if not many, relapses, is hard to accept at times, and I share in their pain and frustration. I know well the rollercoaster of emotions that goes with seeing someone making leaps in progress and then suddenly being struck with the reemergence of severe symptoms. From hospitalizations to suicide rates, the statistics for serious mental illnesses are there and always a reminder of how attentive I need to be to the signs of relapse for my loved one. I know what it's like to dread the nighttime, and to have nightmares about those middle of the night crisis phone calls that worry you into the weeks to come. I know what it's like to go days without sleep, sitting awake all night in fear of the possibilities of what this relapse could bring, but then having to function normally in the daylight hours as though you are not consumed by the thoughts of your loved ones' safety and well being. I have known too well the way society has silenced the dialogue about mental illness—and that to freely voice either your own experiences with mental illness or that of a loved one you are risking serious stigmatization. No one who has a mental illness, or has a loved one with one, should ever have to suffer in silence—and the fact that we have normalized the idea that people needn’t openly talk about their struggles and triumphs with mental illness is a social disservice to all. I have refused to comply with those toxic expectations anymore.
In the midst of my struggle I became drawn to NAMI, which stands for the National Alliance on Mental Illness, because of its mission to educate, support, and advocate for all those affected by mental illness—whether it's someone with a mental illness or a loved one of someone with a mental illness. At the local affiliate NAMI Billings where I am a VISTA volunteer, this grassroots organization stays true to its original structure of being peer-driven—its support groups, education courses, and outreach efforts are still all run by dedicated volunteers. NAMI Billings also continues to provide its services to the public free of charge, making what we offer here accessible to everyone. Because we are committed to providing services in this way and we do not receive any State or Federal grant funding, we depend on individual donations to run all of our programs, to have new group and education program facilitators attend training at the state level, to print and provide all outreach materials, to support our small staff of 1 part-time employee, and to keep our doors open and lights on so that we can continue providing our essential services.
What we do at NAMI Billings is vital to the community. Be it the weekly support groups or its education classes, NAMI Billings provides a safe space for those to share in their stories and experiences, to learn ways in which they can advocate for themselves, to learn about effective strategies for recovery, and to be with others facing similar circumstances to know they are not fighting this alone. At the same time, NAMI Billings actively educates and raises awareness in the community about mental illness so that stigmas can be lessened, a platform for conversation can be built, and a path for real understanding will be paved. For me and so many others, NAMI Billings has been a place for me to call home. It truly saves people. Since becoming involved there, I've never felt more empowered and supported to end my silence and encourage others to do the same.
Please consider donating to our first Stop the Shame Campaign at NAMI Billings through this page, where all proceeds will go toward NAMI Programs that are available to anyone free of charge. All donations are tax-deductable. This campaign will extend through Mental Illness Awareness Week (October 4-10). Our hopes are—through sharing our own stories—to raise awareness for mental illness, to fight the stigmas associated with mental illnesses, and to encourage people to see the person for their human qualities without defining them by their illness. We need you to help us stop the shame directed toward those living with mental illness. If we look with our hearts, I truly believe that an unending compassion towards those struggling toward a path of recovery will blossom, an understanding of what it really means to have a mental illness will be encouraged, and an infinite amount of support can be extended for those affected. Act with your heart today. Share your story, share someone else's story, or make it a point to bring mental illness to the forefront of a conversation. We're all in this together. Help us stop the shame.
Check our NAMI Billings website for more info about what NAMI is all about. Please contact me with any questions or concerns. If you're interested in telling your story, please please contact me :)
NAMI Billings Webpage
Beaming love and light,
Kaitlyn
*This organization has been granted non-profit status under Section 501(c) (3) of the Internal Revenue Service Code. Contributions to this organization are deductable for federal income tax purposes; Federal Tax ID # 810507324.
Organizer
Kaitlyn Cochran
Organizer
Billings Metropolitan Area, MT
NAMI-BILLINGS
Registered nonprofit
Donations are typically 100% tax deductible in the US.
