I think that empowering mental health survivors is one of the hardest things about battling against stigma. Let me put it this way. A number of the tenants in my building are adults living with a mental health diagnosis. All, if not most, are on some kind of government disability pension. A few years ago I eavesdropped on a conversation in the elevator, where three tenants were all bitterly complaining that if they earn too much money while working they could lose a portion of their disability benefits, which is indexed according to the amount earned, in this case by more than eight hundred a month. I said, "well, shouldn't that be the idea? Don't you want to be more independent?" No one dignified my comment with an answer.
No one wants to lose whatever they have or seem to have gained. I know that in my case, I applied for disability some eighteen years ago, or so, and was turned down. I was discouraged from appealing as the advocate I saw believed that I would do okay without it. She was right. I have managed, outside of paying government-subsidised rent, to remain completely independent of all other forms of government assistance these last seventeen years. And next year I will be getting my full old age pension.
So then, what have I accomplished? Besides bragging rights, I mean. Well, that's just it. Bragging rights. Even though I am still technically poor, I am also independent. I do not have to cringe, shrink or cower beneath a shadow of mental health stigma. Nor have I ever availed myself of the opportunity of simply wallowing and luxuriating in stigma, like it was warm sewage in a cesspit. In effect, I have not had to barter my personal autonomy in exchange for a scandalously low monthly pension that barely keeps my sorry ass alive while labeling me in bright lurid neon as a loser with a mental illness.
I do not, by the way, judge people on disability pensions as losers. They are there for a reason. But I also know that had I been accepted into that particular club it would have been my death warrant. I could only really move forward without getting that kind of benefit. Even though the purpose of getting accepted for disability was to make my life a little less difficult, in my case that would have also made things too easy. I would never get completely well without having to struggle like everyone else. A cruel reality, yes. But life is full of cruel realities, and by sheltering ourselves from this, I am not sure that any of us are ever going to become full adults.
Instead of getting the kind of help that would guarantee me food, housing and a little coffee or beer money left over, I opted to accept life in all it's cold and nasty cruelty, with the exception of government-subsidized rent. I already knew that I would never get a decent apartment to live in in Vancouver otherwise, and especially being then in my mid-forties, I was also painfully aware that my employability was being rapidly compromised by age.
Which is also to say that, had I not stayed successfully employed over the next seventeen years, I would be truly and terminally screwed. So, this way, I can least have it both ways: the government gives me decent affordable housing, and I can get on with my life as a working taxpayer supporting my own butt. Does this make me feel proud? You're damn right it does! Superior? No way! as a mental health worker I understand the bind a lot of people find themselves in. It has often been so hard to actually get disability assistance that there remains the legitimate fear of losing that gain once fully employed, and, if you are suddenly out of work, then what are you going to do? Well, such is the dilemma facing almost every working Canadian. But what makes it particularly toxic is the fear of having a relapse of mental health symptoms, rendering one again unemployable and without any financial support whatsoever.
So the stigma continues, perhaps self-imposed and accepted as such, but still a sad and indicting statement on the quality of care and the crappy attitudes that our government ministers have towards some of the most vulnera ble Canadians.
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