What working in mental health taught me about being human
There is no amount of training that can teach you the most valuable lessons in real life, no amount of face to face sessions, e-learning or essays that make you a truly empathetic, self-aware person. It comes from lived experience and the people I support have taught me more than I could ever have imagined.
When I started working in my field I thought I had an advantage. I have had my own mental health struggles my entire life. I have a sister with autism, I had a career as a carer for elderly people years ago. I could handle anything, right?
It’s so easy to look at people with mental health conditions, learning disabilities, or those struggling with addiction or homelessness and somehow think they are disadvantaged, or, in the case of addiction and homelessness, “they did this to themselves, they chose this”. I have learned that none of us are immune from such things, mental health struggles can affect anyone at anytime and sometimes, seemingly, without reason. But realistically it could happen to anyone, it doesn’t matter who you are. I have worked with people from great backgrounds, families with money, safe childhood homes with parents who love each other, business owners, people with supportive families and friends. But there is a turning point for most.
Get Between Places’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
One event that changes everything, causes behavioural changes, a distrust of other humans. A feeling that drugs, alcohol or self harm are the only ways to cope, that nobody cares, understands or is willing to listen. For many people I have supported, there was a turning point — a loss, a trauma, or a life event that changed the way they saw themselves and the world.
I quickly learned that people with learning disabilities often have their capacity questioned and whilst this is a good thing so that we can ensure they are being correctly supported, some of the most intelligent, funny and wholesome people have this diagnosis. They have an enjoyment for the small things, a game that brings them so much joy, a song they can listen to on repeat and their smile returns each time as if it is the first time they are hearing it, imaginations that half of us could never replicate. Working with people with learning disabilities made me see life from another perspective, just being in the moment and enjoying what is happening, letting people know outright how they are feeling without worrying about the reaction, a carefree, sometimes childlike, love for life that others could only dream of.
The people with mental health conditions showed me what real resilience looks like. To carry on when you feel alone and like the whole world is against you. The strong urge to get better despite trying a hundred times before and relapsing. Resilience isn’t always loud. Sometimes it is simply getting out of bed, attending an appointment or choosing to try again after believing you couldn’t. I see people get up everyday and struggle but with a strong determination to do something with their lives regardless.
I learned to feel lucky to have opportunities that others may not get. To be free to live my life with no restrictions. To not have someone writing notes about my every move throughout the day, notes that will stay on my record forever. But I also felt envy of some people’s innocence.
This work has made me a better person. The level of patience, understanding and empathy I have now is something I never would have had previously. I will never again look at people through the lens of their diagnosis. I see humour, kindness, creativity, resilience and hope. Working in mental health hasn’t just changed my career — it has changed the way I see humanity. there are such beautiful qualities in the people I work with that I never would have seen in anyone else. And I will be eternally grateful for the moments I have been so lucky to share with each and every one of the people who trusted me enough to let me be a small part of their journey.
