Do you know what this ribbon means?

7am. Not my usual time to write a blog post, and not really a convenient one, but this post has been burning in my mind since I awoke and needs to be written before I can carry on with my day.
I received a strange Facebook message yesterday from someone I've never met. I won't go into all of it, but one part of it resonated in my mind this morning as soon as I awoke. It said: "I don't care about...your past. I don't judge." Now, mind you, rereading it now, I realize that I probably originally misinterpreted what the sender was trying to say. This is not, by any means, a complaint about the message that was sent to me. It was actually sweet and encouraging. What the above phrase did, however, was trigger a train of thought that brought about this post. Let me see if I can explain.
I awoke this morning with the realization that people I've never even met are reading my blog. I knew that already. It is nothing new, but what struck me this morning is that my journey through the darkness of my mental illness is listed on this blog, and the link to my "tales of the looney bin" blog is on here as well, leading readers to the recounting of the most challenging and shameful time in my life. As the words of the Facebook message played over and over in my mind this morning, I thought about all of my new friends, about the amazing and wonderful people I've been meeting lately, about the new opportunities that are presenting themselves to me, and I thought that perhaps I should take down the looney bin blog and delete some of the earlier posts on this one. Then I remembered...
When I was going through my dark stage, I was very frustrated by the stigma that surrounds mental illness, and on my good days, I vowed to do something about it. Mental illness is something our culture is very hush, hush about. Oh, we talk about it in the news, when someone does something terrible and tragic enough that talking about it would boost the ratings, but in our day to day life, it isn't something that is usually openly discussed. If I'm standing in line at the grocery story, a perfect stranger and I could begin talking about my cancer and no one would think twice about it. I have had many discussions with strangers about my cancer, but if I mentioned that I have major depressive disorder with reoccurring episodes and generalized anxiety disorder, the conversation would suddenly become awkward. I can talk about being hospitalized to get my boobs chopped off, but it is much more awkward to discuss last year's hospitalization for stress seizures, or my two stays in the mental hospital. Why is that? I think it's due in large part to the fact that mental illness is not well understood and still a symbol of weakness in our culture. So as much as I would love to erase that part of my life and start over with a clean slate, I cannot. I cannot because

About 11.4 million adult Americans suffered from severe mental illness in the past year and 8.7 million adults contemplated serious thoughts of suicide. Among them, more than 2 million made suicide plans and about 1 million attempted suicide. (ABC News, Mikaela Conley. Read the entire article here)

One in five Americans suffers from mental illness. One in five!! So if you take an average family, Mom, Dad, two or three kids, odds are one of you will suffer from some kind of mental illness (I know it's not that simple, with heredity issues and such, but humor me for the point I'm trying to make.) This is a huge issue, and not one to be shoved under the rug.
One of the biggest struggles for someone with mental illness is the shame that comes with it. At least it was for me. I'm hoping that by raising awareness, over time, some of that shame will dissipate.
It seems to me that people often believe those of us with mental illness cause our illness, that somehow we are to blame. There are times when this is true. Mental illness can be brought along, or exacerbated by lifestyle. This is also true of some types of cancer. Lung cancer is can be caused by smoking. I watched my grandmother die from lung cancer brought on by decades of smoking. I watched my grandfather die from COPD for the same reason, and yet, as they were dying, there was no judgement, at least not from us, about what brought them to their death bed. What is the point of beating someone up for behaviors the consequences of which they are already suffering from? So if someone is depressed because they fried their brain on some kind of drug, is it their fault? Absolutely. Do they need to be condemned for it? Absolutely not! They are suffering enough already!
Many times, however, people suffer from mental illness due to no fault of their own. Web MD has an interesting article on the causes of mental illness. As you can see in this article, most of the causes of mental illness are completely out of the control of the person suffering from it. 
So I'm leaving my blog posts up. Yes, I am mentally ill. Yes, it impacted my life and the lives of those I love severely, and sometimes, it still does. It is part of who I am, and yes, it could happen to you too.
If you are already there, in that place of shame and desperation, send me a message (There is a link to my email in my profile). I've been there. I've walked in your shoes, and I would be more than happy to listen. If you are local, I can hold you and we can cry together, and then together, we can take the next step, because I want you to know that there is hope. I want you to know that your darkness doesn't have to last forever. And I want you to know that while some may shun you for this, many of us will not. Some may not understand, but many of us do. Let's raise awareness together, and put an end to this stigma.

Oh, and by the way, silver is the color for mental health awareness. We all know what pink stands for, and most of us know what red stands for. Now you know what silver means. Spread the awareness.