Interested In Becoming a Health Activist? Some Tips to Get You Started

Wisdom Wednesday: What advice do you have for health activists just starting out? Share your words of wisdom for all the health activist rookies out there!

Let me first start off by saying I wouldn't call what I have to offer wisdom. I'd call it tips that have worked for me, or things that I struggled with that I'm now figuring out, that I hope help anyone interested in becoming a health activist. 

• Start as small as you'd like. You don't have to be marching on Washington to debate legislation or writing a blog with off the charts viewership overnight. Of course, if you'd like your first bit of activism to be marching on Washington, then go for it. But don't feel it has to be. If the only person that reads your first five posts is your best friend, that's OK. You've gotten yourself started. 

• Choose the type of activism that's right for you. This may take some trial and error. Some people love blogging. Some would prefer to tweet. Others would rather start a Facebook page or group. Still others shine with Instagram photos. Or maybe it's not social media based. Maybe you write letters to your local legislator, or you organize fundraising events, or get involved with a local non-profit chapter that benefits your cause. There are so many opportunities. You may love one or some or all of them. And it may take a while to find your niche. Pick not only what you feel good at, but what you love. Because the heart of activism is passion. Period.  

• Be yourself. I can't stress this enough. People aren't looking for perfect. They're not looking for cliches or all-smiles-all-the-time cheer leading. Nobody's perfect and so we can't relate to perfect. Be you, flaws and all. People would rather know if you're still struggling but managing to stay afloat. It gives them hope that even in their worst struggles, they too can stay afloat. It makes them feel like they could reach out if they needed and you'd understand. Like they can connect with you.

• Be approachable. Activism is, ultimately, about helping people. Yes, it can be about changing legislation and erasing stigma and educating people. But ultimately the reason behind all of that is to help people. People like you. People who can understand why you got involved in activism, because they go through it too. Hollywood has enough untouchable celebrities. Those struggling need someone that they feel they could reach out to and say "Thank you for sharing that. Can I ask you a question? Can I share something with you." It makes them feel not so alone. Which, to me at least, is one of the ultimate goals of what I do.   

• Don't judge. You have your opinion and experiences. But it's just that - your opinion, your experiences. Those of us with illness feel judged and stigmatized enough. To have an advocate do this, someone they felt they could relate to or even look up to, is awful.  The number one place I see this is in relation to medication, but I've seen it on the topic of having children vs not (i.e if  you have a genetic disease), of techniques to use when struggling, and more. You can have your opinion, and you're welcome to share your opinion. But remember that ultimately, what you're an expert in is you, and your experience - just as everyone else is the most knowledgeable about themselves and their experiences. 

• Keep plugging along. I know what it feels like to write or tweet or post your heart out, to share deep, dark, gut-wrenching information about yourself, only to have zero people comment and only your blood relatives read it.  But I'll share something with you that I wish I would remind myself more - they're not the only ones reading your posts, and they're not the only people that you're helping. Many people, I think especially when it comes to mental health, aren't as  comfortable talking about their condition and struggles as you might be. It doesn't meant they aren't listening (reading). It just means they're not ready to tell you that they are. Because they feel that bursts wide open a secret that they've been keeping. And whatever their reason, they may not be ready to fully acknowledge that, even to themselves. But keep going. I'm amazed at the people who have contacted me - people I'd NEVER have expected - who tell me they read my posts and find it so helpful because they go through the same thing. They may never comment or share or retweet or publicly acknowledge it, but it's helping them. And that makes all the difference. 

• Ask for help. There's no shame in reaching out to other activists to ask how they got things going, or how they accomplished a goal that you're hoping to. There's also no shame in reaching out to friends and family and saying, "I'm starting this blog/page/twitter handle/etc, and I'd really appreciate it if you'd sign up/like/follow." We don't magically get started and have a massive following (I still don't, after years!). We too most likely begun with the only five followers, all being relatives or good friends. We may well have asked them to sign up/follow/like." That's 100 percent OK. A starting point is a starting point. You have to start somewhere! 

I hope these help a little. I am always, always happy to answer questions for anyone interested in becoming a health activist, whether for mental health or another illness. So please, feel free to reach out. And best of luck with you work. Thank you so very much for what you're doing. It means more to people than you may ever realize. 

Be Yourself

HAWMC Day 3:  Quotation Inspiration. Find a quote that inspires you (either positively or negatively) and free write  about it for 15 minutes.

I love quotes. Inspiring ones, silly ones, smartassy ones. But if I had to pick just one, it would be this incredibly simple one by Charles M Schultz.

"Be Yourself. No one can say you're doing it wrong." 

Why? Well, quite frankly, I'm different. I always have been. I grew up knowing I was different, though not knowing how. Occasionally it bothered me. Most of the time I didn't think much of it. But as I got older, I thought more and more of it. I realized how different I was in so many ways. And the more I noticed it, the more it bothered me. I asked myself why I was so different. For all that I knew it, I couldn't really place my finger on it. The more this eluded me, the more angst it caused me. It was a self-perpetuating cycle. One that threw me occasionally into pretty dark places. 

As my condition started to become more evident to those around me (it was always evident on some level to me), they noticed it to. I faced a lot of "Why can't you just be normal" comments. A lot of, "Normal people aren't like that. Normal people don't think that way or feel that way or act that way. You're (crazy/delusional/irrational/pick you're stigmatizing descriptive). For a long time, even after I was diagnosed, I tried to defend myself, telling they were wrong, I was normal, even with this illness. I tried to explain my words, feelings, actions and why people should find them acceptable.  I tried and tried to justify them to people who didn't want to hear it. People who'd already passed judgement on me for one reason or another. I watched it in numerous aspects of my life and I rallied against it time and again. And then finally, I stopped. 

I'm not sure exactly when or how it happened. But one day, I realized I was able to take a less negatively biased look at myself and my life. I thought about the people who told me that my blogging and advocacy inspired them and made them feel supported. I thought about the friends who laughed at my quirky humor and awkward but apparently endearing antics. I replayed all the conversations I'd had with others close to me in which we could completely relate to each other, in which I realized what they liked about my was my differences. And I stopped caring so much. The veneer of needing to fit into a mold began to crack.

I won't be so brave as to say I never care. I won't claim that I absolutely love having a mental health condition and I'd never, ever hope to be "normal." Because quite honestly that's BS. At least as it relates to me. There are times that I wish I reacted to individual situations more normally. Like not feeling like I'm going to piss my pants out of fear every time I have to interact in a group setting. Or not breaking down crying out of nowhere in the middle of walking my dog or watching tv or cooking dinner. Or not having an anxiety attack while parallel parking, as I posted about the other day. There are times that it is still maddeningly frustrating when a way of looking at something is so obvious to me, and yet the person I'm talking to can't possibly see it. It's like me pointing at the sky and saying "It's blue," and them saying "No it's bright green. Why can't you see that?" Because life does feel that way sometimes. 

But I've learned to embrace my differences more fully. I've learned that I'm a creative person, and that I often express myself best through writing or vision boarding or dance or even just doodling (because what I do could not possibly be considered drawing or art - not even modern art).  I've learned that I see life in pictures, in snapshots instead of in a step by step manner. I can now explain this to people who don't see how I'm approaching a situation. It doesn't always work, but at least I can offer an explanation to bridge some of the gap. I've learned that in the right company, I can share my completely random thoughts and they'll be appreciated (like the recent time I told my boyfriend out of the blue that if our dog had a creative art it would be interpretive dance).  And so I now surround myself with only the right company (when I have any control of the company, that is). 

In the end of the day, I may not have a lot of talents or enviable skill sets. But I've become significantly more comfortable with being myself. And in fact, I've decided that's a pretty valuable skill to have. Because after all, it's one of the very few things in life that you can't do wrong. 

I Write My Best Blogs in the Shower

Day 2 of HAWMC.  Today's prompt:

Every great writer has their own process! What's the blogging process look like for you? Do you set aside time each week to write or do you wait until the inspiration hits? Do you finish a post in one night or use the week to perfect it? Do you edit your blogs or just hit publish? Whatever it is you do, it’s unique to you and we want to learn about it.

Usually, my posts come to me at some incredibly inopportune time - middle of the night, in the shower, while driving, in the middle of a meeting. If I force myself to sit down and write without any type of prompt or motivation, it ends up the blog equivalent of a bad stick figure drawing (if you've ever seen me draw a stick figure you understand how just bad that is). So when inspiration strikes, I write it down, anywhere and anyhow I can. I have sticky notes by my bed for ideas that come to me in the middle of the night (though admittedly those notes are sometimes illegible in the morning). I have a list of potential blog topics on Evernote. I have notepads on my desk, in my laptop bag. If I'm traveling, I often carry a mini notepad in my purse, to jot down ideas on the road. If my laptop is handy when an idea comes to me and I have only a few minutes, I'll open up my blog and jot down just a few lines to start a post, knowing I'll have to come back to it later but wanting to get the ball rolling.

"Action shot" of me writing (future blog) at 5:30 AM last Saturday

In cases such as HAWMC, where I have prompts, it's a bit easier. I don't have to "come up with content out of thin air", so to speak. But because my blog is so emotionally fueled and focused, and because my emotions can be so unreliable, I can't just force myself to write at a set time on a set day without fail.  (Disclaimer: sometimes I write several of these challenge posts at once when I'm feeling motivated. I call that "finding creative solutions.")  I do try to set aside times to write each week, but those are pretty flexible and vary from week to week. They have to be, because I might literally not be in the mood to write at the set time. 

On the flip side, there are times that I could write for hours, particularly during intense emotional cycles. I occasionally try to share what it's like in the middle of a hypomanic episode or bad bout of depression, because I feel it's the closest way for people to actually understand what I'm battling. They may not have experienced it themselves, but me writing when I'm in the throws of it, it's kind of the writer's equivalent to Facebook live or Periscope or whatever your preferred "live" medium may be.  The nature of my cycling is such that, once I cycle out, it almost feels like it happened ages ago, and I find it significantly more difficult to describe in depth. It feels like I'm telling a story, instead of a personal account. If I write during, I'm much better able to explain in detail, in a way people can visualize, even possibly feel. That said, if I know I'm in a really, really bad state, I try to give it a day or so before I post. I don't want to raise any cause for alarm, if none is actually needed. 

Despite my lack of any real plan, there are few rules that I try to set for myself: 

• Proofread. I sometimes type (and talk) faster than my brain fully computes. If I don't proofread, there could be a lot of jumbled up mess in my posts. Or rather, more than there already is. 

• Don't post ragingly angry. Post kind of angry, but not ragingly so, especially if the anger is primarily directed at one person or situation. Anger is an important part of mental health and not one a lot of people like to talk about. So I think it's important to post from that viewpoint so that, as described above, people get a "real time" insight. I also know, though, that my anger can be fueled by anxiety, panic, and hypomania, and that this multiplies it, making me significantly more upset about things than I otherwise would be. I don't want to emotionally hurt anyone by letting this take over in a blog post, so even if I write, I try to hold off and see if I still feel that way a little while later, or if I've "simmered down" a bit. I've written a lot of drafts that, if posted, would have resulted in some serious foot-in-mouth syndrome later on.  And if I am angry, I never, ever mention personal names (assuming it's someone in my personal life I'm angry at). Ever. 

• Don't overthink it. I proofread, and I make sure any facts that I've stated as facts are as accurate and updated as possible, but I try not to re-read sentences for hours, wondering if it sounds ok, if it makes perfect sense, what everyone will think of it, etc. As long as it's somewhat sensical, and it's not going to lose me friends or my job, it doesn't have to sound perfect. My brain is a beautifully, weirdly, messy place. My blog reflects that. Intentionally. 

• I post for me, but I hope that it helps others. Writing in general, and therefore blogging, is therapeutic to me. I was always a writer. As a child, adolescent, teen, young adult, I journaled. I still do (on pen and paper, in addition to my blog). So sometimes, I write just to "get things out". Sometimes, I end up not posting those pieces. Just writing it has done it's job, and I realize I don't want to, for whatever reason, post those. But when I feel that others may go through the same thing, that it could help them or inspire them in some way or simply let them know that they're not alone, I post. So I write for me, but I do so in hopes that it will also help others. 

These are by no means a "recipe" for writing a mental health or chronic illness or any blog. In fact, I pretty much spent the last x number of paragraphs saying, "I really don't have a process, I just throw spaghetti at the wall and see if it sticks." But I guess that's kind of the point. I have my ways that work for me, but they're fluid. And you may have a great process that works for you. But if you don't, that's ok too. If you want to write, write. There's no perfect formula. That's the beauty of a personal blog - it's as unique as of each us, our conditions, and our journeys. My stickies in the middle of the night and mentally writing blogs in the shower is what works for me - and I'm completely ok with that. And when you find what works for you, run with it, even if it's equally as weird a process.