An article in University of Western Ontario’s Alumni Gazette by MHCC board member Patrick Dion.
When young adults begin their university years the pressure to perform in a competitive academic environment, coupled with a new life away from family, often stirs deep anxiety. The combination of new pressures and experiences can trigger, for those who are predisposed, the fi rst symptoms of a mental illness. A lack of widespread awareness for how to identify the early signs of mental illness often inhibits getting treatment, leaving many young adults to endure their fi rst episode feeling frightened, alienated from their peers, and vulnerable. While my years at Western will be remembered as some of my most cherished, my brother’s university experience was fraught with managing the hardships of mental illness. My brother’s mental health began to unravel while a first year student in Western's Faculty of Science. While not until years later did we fully understand or acknowledge the extent of his illness, in the spring of 1988 a dramatic slide in his academic performance and irregular behavior signaled that all was not well. Until fi nal exams, his studies were near perfect. By the middle of second-term, distracted thoughts and an inability to concentrate produced exam scores that shattered his fi nal grades. His descent into mental illness hit at the very heart of any good student's worst fear - failure.
“But my brother’s journey, while emotional, has awakened me to the insidious discrimination faced by the 20 per cent of Canada’s population living with mental illness.”
My brother returned home that summer very defeated. Somber refl ection on the events of his fi nal months as a freshmen produced few answers. Given our family’s then naiveté, a rational explanation was not obvious. As summer lumbered along, my brother’s frustrations and fears grew stronger; his dreams of a career in medicine or dentistry became uncertain. He and we returned to one painful question: “What happened?”
The summer following first year was difficult, to be sure. My brother wrestled with the injustice of how his nimble mind had suddenly become his burden. He sat for hours on the chesterfield in my parents’ living room, his first year math and science text books scattered around his feet, seized with reassembling the knowledge that had inexplicably escaped him. He was determined to prove, if only to himself, that his mind had not betrayed him. Although denial would prevent us from openly believing that my brother was experiencing the early stages of a mental illness, privately we began to worry about his health.
Among the members of our immediate family, his academic future was the subject of hushed debate. But as September approached, the only issue more certain than our family’s concern that all was not well, was my brother’s resolve that he would be returning to Western to resume his studies.
Upon returning to Western, his illness seized him further, tightening its hold on his brilliant mind. Following a series of anxious months, my brother took the first meaningful step toward getting professional help. Western’s on-campus caregivers, however thoughtful and current on the treatment of mental illness, were unable to meet his needs. For a second time he took leave from his studies to assess his future, returning again to my parents’ home.
In spite of his aim to quickly return to good health, my brother’s condition continued to deteriorate, bringing him further into the murky shadows of mental illness. Eventually, he decided to formally withdraw from his studies at Western, regrettably never to return. Notwithstanding his attempts to pursue different avenues of academic study, his post-secondary studies would end painfully. The difficult lesson: mental illness dashes the dreams of many, but particularly the dreams of young Canadians who must adjust to coping with their harsh new reality.
In his years since Western, my brother has fought courageously toward recovery. Establishing himself as a successful entrepreneur and a productive member of society is proof that strength of character and the unwavering support of family can overcome even the most difficult of life’s challenges. His journey would transform our lives forever, first stretching but then strengthening the bonds of unconditional love and support.
But my brother’s journey, while emotional, has awakened me to the insidious discrimination faced by the 20 per cent of Canada’s population living with mental illness.
“Our family was quick to learn that increased awareness, fundraising, and activism around eliminating soul-destroying stigma plays a meaningful role in improving the lives of Canadians.”
While Canada is considered among the world’s most progressive nations, acknowledged as having a comprehensive system of universal health care, mental illness has forever been the orphan of our health system. Even more troubling is that stigma - the negative and prejudicial ways in which people living with mental illness are labeled - is so vicious that people living with mental illnesses are often viewed no longer as a person, but merely a label. Among those who live with mental illness, stigma is the single largest barrier to obtaining proper health care treatment.
Notwithstanding centuries of inattention and neglect, the future of mental health in Canada is improving. In August 2007, Prime Minister Harper struck the Mental Health Commission of Canada, an independent body funded by the federal government. The Commission, chaired by former Senator Michael Kirby, whose Senate Committee report “Out of the Shadows at Last” was the driving force for its creation, is a strong indication that federal and provincial policy-makers now acknowledge that mental health must now be counted amongst the most pressing matters to address as a country.
Our family was quick to learn that increased awareness, fundraising, and activism around eliminating souldestroying stigma plays a meaningful role in improving the lives of Canadians. To share a loved one’s frustrations and heartache can move one to action. Following a particularly grim period along my brother’s road to recovery, I elevated my involvement in Canada’s mental health movement.
Until recently, my volunteerism focused on effecting change at the grassroots level, a very important but often overlooked sector. Over several years, I increased my activism gradually. As part of the Government of Canada’s launch of the Mental Health Commission, I was appointed as one of the members of its board of directors. My involvement with the board remains voluntary, but comes with the great privilege of working together with very talented, passionate men and women dedicated to establishing a national framework that would allow mental health and the treatment of mental illness to be brought out of the shadows forever.
Over the past year, the Commission’s board and senior staff have been advancing plans to bring forward elements of a national strategy that will meaningfully improve the mental health care system in Canada. Background information on the Commission and updates regarding its progress can be obtained by visiting: www.mentalhealthcommission.ca
My brother’s experience crystallized my conviction that Canada’s health care system needs to become more responsive to the needs of Canadians living with mental illness. The creation of the Commission places Canada at an historic crossroads. I am confident that when its work is complete, Canada will be a society that values and promotes mental health, helping people living with mental illness to lead meaningful and productive lives.
Patrick Dion is Vice President of Summa Strategies Canada and a voluntary Director of the Board of the Mental Health Commission of Canada