Being honest at work about mental illness is a scary proposition

Last week I sat down and wrote my first public article about mental illness under my own name. I’ve written under pseudonyms and on Facebook posts only friends can see, but never out there for the world. This created a whole host of concern and drama in my family about the impact of talking so honestly. They worried that if people knew I had depression, suicidality, panic attacks, or PTSD, could it affect my career — would people choose to not hire me in the future?

My question back to them was “would you feel the same if I was writing about cancer or asthma?” Their answer, of course, was no. I had spent years talking and writing about my experience with allergies and eczema and no one had ever expressed concern. But mental health is different. There’s a stigma to it — like its a personal choice or weakness. A friend, the other day, mentioned that I had timed my breakdown perfectly with Covid and that no one would question why I took this year off and I would be able to gloss right over my disability. First, yay me! Obviously I timed my breakdown perfectly. I put a lot of thought into it. Second, why do I have to hide it?

This exact reaction is why we need to continue to be as open and honest as possible about mental health issues. One in five adults has a mental illness. That’s more people than cancer, heart disease and the biggest physical illnesses affecting our society. But yet very few admit it. They slip out of work on a undisclosed medical leave or quit and take some time for themselves, they turn to drugs or alcohol or another coping mechanism, they just get by and don’t mention the dark times. Unfortunately this means that when others have similar problems, they think they are alone. They think everyone else is happy, content and at peace, thriving and that they are the only one in pain. One in five means when you look around your team at work, two or three people are going through something similar and understand.

It could be in the future that a future employer reads an article I wrote and thinks by having mental illness that I am not qualified anymore to work on their strategy, help their employees improve their culture, or create their business plan. But then to be honest, maybe I will decide that I don’t want to work for a person or company that doesn’t understand that people get sick and whether that be their brains, their hearts or any other organ, it doesn’t matter. And maybe I will decide that if you can’t see that I am actually an even better employee because of this journey, experience, empathy, and recognition of others — then you aren’t the company for me. And maybe I will decide that how a company thinks about mental illness, how it treats and supports their employees during crisis, and helps them transition back into the workforce is a key attribute of its 21st century brand.

Mental illness is by protected by the Americans with Disabilities Act, however that act is only as strong as your company, your HR department, and your manager. The weakest link on the chain is often your manager and their education and experience around healthcare issues. It is scary to sit down with your manager and discuss any issue that may interfere with your performance and your ability to succeed. To find a manager who supports you and understands what you need to be healthy and successful is a glorious thing. So again, if writing this helps me find that great person in the future, then bring it on.