Yesterday, I did something I never thought I would: I brought all four of my kids along to my psychiatrist appointment. Typically, I treat these visits like I did my prenatal checkups—sacred time solely for my own well-being, free from the distractions of parenting. It’s a rare moment where I can focus on myself without worrying about my kids’ behavior in a formal setting.
To be completely honest, the thought of explaining my reasons for visiting a psychiatrist filled me with dread. Questions like, “Will I have to come here too, Mommy?” or “Why do you keep coming if you’re feeling okay?” loomed in my mind. I just didn’t want to dive into those conversations; they made me feel vulnerable and ashamed.
Yes, ashamed. Me, the person who openly discusses living with Bipolar Disorder and advocates for reducing the stigma around mental health. I’ve shared my story in interviews and contributed to a bestselling anthology on mental wellness, yet I felt a wave of fear. I didn’t want my children to view me as perpetually broken, knowing that I would continue to attend these appointments indefinitely. Even with gratitude for the medication that helps me, I sometimes grapple with feelings of inadequacy for needing them.
This week, it struck me that my reluctance to take my kids to these appointments wasn’t just about convenience; it was about shielding them from that uncomfortable part of my life. When childcare fell through and time slipped away due to my kids’ wandering ways, I faced a choice: cancel the appointment or bring the whole crew with me to the psychiatrist.
Perspective is everything, especially when living with a mental illness. Sure, the hefty $110 cancellation fee played a role in my decision to go the more challenging route, but it wasn’t the only reason. I realized that if I wanted to break down the barriers surrounding mental health stigma, I needed to let my children witness this aspect of my care. Not only would it normalize the experience for them if they ever needed mental health support, but it would also show that even seemingly “normal” people seek help from professionals.
My children transformed the waiting room atmosphere. They held doors for others and engaged in polite conversation—just like they would in any other medical office. It’s vital to counter the harmful stereotypes of mental illness that suggest we’re all unstable or dangerous. By showcasing the reality of mental health care to my kids, I hoped to pave the way for a more accepting future.
When we entered the nurse’s room for my weight check and medication review, they chimed in when she asked about my sleep and mood. Their honesty was refreshing—talk about a dose of reality! They even joined me in the psychiatrist’s office, delighting in the comfy chairs and responding to her questions. They offered hugs to both the nurse and the doctor, just as they do with anyone they find endearing.
I want my children to understand that anyone seeking help for mental health issues is bravely facing their challenges. To dismantle stigma, we must be willing to reveal our struggles, and this was a small step in that direction.
I also considered how my kids’ presence might affect others in the waiting room. A group of cheerful, well-mannered children introduced a sense of warmth that often feels missing in such clinical spaces. I ensured they maintained good manners without stifling their natural exuberance. Mental health offices can sometimes feel heavy with anxiety, but by fostering a friendly environment, we can help alleviate that tension.
Many individuals hesitate to enter mental health facilities, often waiting in their cars until the last possible moment. In contrast, nobody hides in their vehicle after a broken arm or avoids eye contact while waiting for a routine checkup. The conversation around physical health is more open, and it’s time to apply that same transparency to mental wellness.
If you’re navigating mental health challenges, I encourage you to share your journey with your loved ones. This openness not only fosters understanding but also empowers them to seek help when needed and support others in their struggles. For more insights on related topics, check out our guide on home insemination kits, which discusses the emotional aspects of planning for a family. Additionally, BabyMaker offers fantastic resources on self-insemination. For those considering fertility treatments, March of Dimes is an excellent resource.
In summary, bringing my kids to my psychiatrist appointment turned out to be an enlightening experience. It not only enabled me to address my mental health openly but also allowed my children to see that seeking help is a normal part of life. By continuing to foster conversations about mental health, we can help create a stigma-free future.
Keyphrase: Mental health stigma
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