Fidelity+B's+Final+AmEx+2015+Speech


 * Title of Speech: **


 * End the Stigma **


 * Text of Speech: **

Depression, for me, is a black hole. It’s a vortex that sucks away every last iota of strength or tolerance I once had.

Depression is like peeling away the layers of gray paint on a wall, only to find an infinite amount of gray paint behind it. And you keep peeling and peeling, but all you accomplish is a lot of claw marks.

It’s like falling into a dark hole, except you lost your voice and can’t call for help, and all you can do is wait for someone to save you. You’ve completely lost your agency.

Depression feels like you are a ghost, like someone else is living your life for you, like you are wafting through the air, making an impact on absolutely nothing.

For me, it was partly incurable and persistent sadness, but mainly just a terrifying void in which I no longer felt anything, no longer was ever very angry or very happy or very excited or even very sad, just deadbeat, as if something had stolen my pulse.

Andrew Jackson. The Civil War. Reconstruction. The Gilded Age.

Those are the time periods in U.S. History that I could tell you nothing about because depression had caused me to check out of my life. The chapter packets are empty, or rather, copied off Quizlet, history pages left unread and un-post-it-noted for the new junior who inherits my book, and I could tell you very little about these eras besides the fact that Jackson killed a lot people, the North fought the South, we tried (and failed to fix things) and then some rich guys took over.

One of the most difficult family traumas I have ever been through, combined with losing my best friends (my brother and sister), to college, spiraled me into depression. I learned in AP Psychology that I had what is known as a diathesis- a genetic, behavioral or environmental (or some mix of them all) predisposition for depression. Once the necessary factors, in this case intense insomnia, inability to balance my life, perfectionism to a harmful degree and loneliness, pushed me over the edge, I plummeted, and it felt like there was no escape.

Though I managed to hide it from my friends, my mom did notice. When I was hesitant to talk to her about what I was feeling, or rather, the things I wasn’t feeling, she encouraged me several times to see a counselor. I refused, perceiving therapy as “giving in” to the fact that I was damaged goods, imperfect. I was determined to keep up the pretenses that I was put together, even as I was watching myself fall apart. I saw receiving treatment for a mental problem as weakness. And what college, what siblings, what guy, what friends wanted someone who was weak, right?

What convinced me to seek help was the AMEX blog. Curious as to how I perceived my life at the beginning of the year, I went back and read our first ever blog. In mine, I spoke of the world excitedly, was eager to start off the year and had close friends who I wasn’t pushing away, as I had been then. There was one quality in my writing that I struggled to put my finger on as I read the blog- happiness. I had been happy while writing it, and I realized then that I hadn’t felt that way in awhile.

It was then that I realized that I had been dealing with some sort of mental disorder for several months, and I agreed to go see a counselor.

Although this might all come off as “sob story,” I don’t tell you all this to make you feel sorry for me. I tell you this because 20 percent of youth ages 13 to 18 experience severe mental health disorders in a given year. In a classroom of 30, that is approximately six of us. Many of those either listening to my speech now, reading it online or watching it after the fact have experienced or are experiencing these illnesses, most of them probably to a degree that is much more intense than mine was. You simply have to look at the number of students who chose this as their final speech topic to understand how much mental illness really affects us, and most are suffering silently.

From suicide to self-harm to bipolar disorder to schizophrenia, these are disorders that everyone deserves help for. 450 million people currently suffer from such conditions, placing mental illness among the leading causes of ill-health and disability worldwide. Treatment works, but why then, do nearly two-thirds of people with a known mental illness never seek help from a health professional?

The answer, in one word, is stigma. A mark of disgrace on those with mental health illness. My counselor told me that many of her patients said that they told themselves, or were told by others, that they were weak, and it prevented them from going for treatment. I was told that I was simply experiencing “teenage angst” and that I should just get over it, that I was experiencing a “tumblr”-esque phase, that a suburban American girl didn’t and couldn’t have any real problems. Though these friends were right, my pain was far less than the worldwide pain of those around me, pain and sadness isn’t experienced on a spectrum or relative to others. I’m scared to think of how I would be feeling now if I had listened to those who told me I was overreacting, that my depression wasn’t real, that the mental health problems I was facing were me only wanting attention. The stigma around mental health problems in this country leaves those who need services and help without them, and I’m not the only one this has happened to.

If your arm was cut off and bleeding, what would your family do? They’d call 911. Surely, as you are being raced to the hospital, no one would accuse you of being weak, right? If your skin was burning off, no one would have a problem with pumping you with fluids. If a stick poked out your eyeball, would anyone call you weak for racing to the emergency room? No, of course not. Why, then, do we see mental health illnesses as anything different ? Depression isn’t forcing yourself into sadness. It’s a mood disorder. A decrease in the right neurotransmitters. In some cases, an actual physical shrinking of certain parts of the brain. A tangible, physical thing, in the same way that the common cold is or an allergic reaction or a physical injury.

In the America I want to grow up in, the 450 million people in this country who have mental health disorders are not societally pressured to deny the treatment they deserve.

But, if I may, I’d like to take it a step further than that. I’d like to ask you all to help me create this America. Ala Buzzfeed, here are 5 things you can do to help decrease the stigma around mental health in the United States. Most of them are suggestions from the National Alliance for Mental Illness.

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 * 1) The majority of insurance companies, Kaiser, Blue Cross, Pacifica, etc., cover behavioral health in standard insurance plans. Most people don’t know about this, and view therapy as an additional cost or hassle. Teenagers especially don’t want to talk to their parents about it because of the view that it will be more money. Help spread this information to friends and family, especially those who may need it.
 * 1) Use people first language. Always say “A person with schizophrenia,” not “a schizophrenic.” Never use terms such as calling someone a lunatic, psycho or retarded. It may be difficult, but you should call out and correct people who do use them. These words erase the fact that people with mental illnesses are just that, people!
 * 1) Don’t undermine psychological disorders by using them as adjectives. Just because you like your books in a certain order or your bed made a certain way doesn’t mean you are OCD. As someone who has had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder in my lifetime, I can tell you that OCD is an inescapable urge to lock the door again and again unless someone will come in and kidnap you, or wash your hands until they are dry and cracking to get rid of perceived deadly bacteria, and obsess about these triggers until you do them. The majority of people with OCD face this in a much more painful and life-inhibiting way than I did, and for a much longer period of time. Just because you had a lot of emotions today doesn’t mean you should call yourself “bipolar,” a disorder that consists of persistent and debilitating mood swings. Think about the people who actually experience the disease and how you invalidate what they experience when you use them as ways to describe yourself. If you say “That was so embarrassing, I’m going to kill myself” or “I’m so depressed!” when you don’t actually mean it, you’re erasing the disorder or problem from those who actually face it. This is a mistake I still catch myself making all the time, but with practice, these words can leave our vocabulary.
 * 1) If you are worried a friend is committing suicide, ask the direct question. “Do you have a plan? Do you know how you would do it? Are you considering it?” If they answer “yes,” you need to talk to an adult you trust immediately, or call the National Suicide Lifeline. Suicide is the third leading cause of death for youth. Don’t let your friend become a statistic.
 * 1) Know the warning signs. If you or a friend feels sad or withdraw for more than 2 weeks, have severe risk-taking behaviors, severe mood swings, drastic changes in personality or are not eating or sleeping, it may be time to get help. Open a dialogue with them about what they are experiencing, and encourage them to speak to a trusted adult. Point out specific signs you’ve seen, such as, “I’ve noticed that you aren’t interested in soccer or guitar anymore, which you used to love. Is everything okay?” Support your friend through anything they might be going through, and definitely do not belittle them.

Reaching out for help was the best decision I ever made for myself. My counselor is named Vanessa. She listens to everything I have to say, points out my incorrect or unhealthy thought patterns, teaches me how to cope and has given me strategies to chase away the dark cloud of depression. More than anything, she’s helped me gain control of my life and taught me that I am in control.

I am the happiest I have ever been and am learning how to pull friends closer when I need them, instead of push them away. Despite what society and those around me had made me think, “giving in” to counseling didn’t mean I was a different, weaker, person. I’m still me, with the same personality, ambition, flaws and problems to work through, I’m just happier now. Counseling was the best decision I ever made for myself, and I don’t regret it, despite the awkward stares when I tell teachers or friends or the class that I need to leave because my therapy appointment is starting soon and I miss Vanessa’s couch and the comforting drawings her six-year-old drew.

In the America I grow old in, I want everyone who needs help to realize that they have a right to treatment. I want everyone’s story to have the same happy ending as mine did, even though I’ll still experience the battle against depression throughout my life, in the same way that 5 others in this room will. I hope you’ll join me in creating a happier, destigmatized and more accepting America. Thank you.

https://www2.nami.org/Template.cfm?Section=Check_Out_Resources&Template=/ContentManagement/ContentDisplay.cfm&ContentID=160731
 * Cite your sources **

https://www2.nami.org/Content/NavigationMenu/Take_Action/Fight_Stigma/national_stigma_flyer.pdf

http://www2.nami.org/ContentManagement/ContentDisplay.cfm?ContentFileID=5148

http://www2.nami.org/factsheets/mentalillness_factsheet.pdf