“I hid myself away” – Simon’s story

Listen to Simon tell his story

Simon reflects on his past experience of indirect stigma and discrimination, when he was bullied at school because of his father’s bipolar disorder. He explores the impact this has had on his own mental health 30 years later. 

“Mad Dad... MAD DAD,” they shouted in my face, “MAD DAD... LOONY FARM”.  

Imagine you’re a teenager. Imagine your dad is unwell with bipolar disorder and has been hospitalised due to his mental health. Imagine trying to hold things together. Imagine going to school one morning and all of your so called ‘friends’ are now shouting this in your face. It was like a switch had been flicked overnight. It was hell.  

I was dumbstruck. How do I deal with this? Not very well it turns out. I did what any teenager would probably do. I took it on the chin. I put up with it. I found other people to sit with in class. I hoped it would go away.   

Big mistake. As I type this, I’m almost in tears as I think about how this has affected me. It’s hugely impacted my self-esteem and my ability to form relationships with people. I don’t trust people and find it very difficult to open up, even to very close friends and family. I continue to internalise my thoughts and worries, which then build up and eat away at me. My self-confidence is shot and I do my best to avoid conflict.  

I myself suffer from anxiety and have had times where I’ve suffered from mild depression. I’m currently on a very long waiting list to see whether I have ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder). I wonder how different I might’ve been had it not been for this experience, had I not internalised it, had I sought help. I wonder what relationships and experiences I might have had. How different things could’ve been, to have self-esteem and confidence. Would I have suffered the same mental health and wellbeing issues I’ve experienced over the years?  

What I do know is that over 30 years on, the stigma surrounding mental health remains. I’ve encountered it myself on numerous occasions. Like the time I visited my GP with mild depression only to be told ‘shit happens’. Like when I was told I’d never become a lecturer due to my mental health, or that I shouldn’t go for a promotion. Like the frequent throw away comments that make you feel like you’re broken. If only they knew. If only they showed some compassion and empathy. 

Having a family member with bipolar disorder isn’t fun. It’s not easy living with and caring for somebody who one minute is feeling OK, the next minute is in tears. But I also know that things will get better. My dad is in a much better place these days, but I know that from time to time he may get a little down.  

All this said, I feel guilty. Guilty for not challenging those who continue to dismiss mental health stigma. Guilty of not being more open with friends and family. 

I think it’s time for some conversations.