Emma DeBono

*TRIGGER WARNING: This article contains stories about living with anxiety

Op Ed

“Hello, I have anxiety” is sometimes how I wish I could introduce myself when at a party or social event. Almost to warn participants that any awkward, avoidant, or spaced out mannerism that may come after this ‘hello’ has nothing to do with me not wanting to talk to them, but merely stems from a deep rooted worry of, well, everything. However, on the outside, I look un-phased. I smile and mentally sift through my vocabulary for a witty comeback or clever out of the box question to dull the pain that comes with small talk. While, internally, I constantly check in with myself on how the conversation is going, making sure I haven’t said or done anything wildly embarrassing. This especially rings true when it comes to networking events. Through years of practice, I’ve learned how to get through small gatherings. But once I’m aware of the stakes involved, my skin starts to crawl. The phrase “it’s not what you know, but who you know” has always made my stomach churn and my knees buckle. It an inevitable fact that creating and withholding connections is a key to successful professional endeavors. But this added pressure of performance when you deal with mental illness, like anxiety and depression (often one coinciding with the other), makes it difficult to navigate. It seems near impossible on the days where you can’t even bring yourself to leave the house, let alone talk extensively about your passions and goals in any positive manner.

So, the question is - why can’t we be more transparent? On one hand, it’s no surprise most of us feel we are not able to freely express when the bad days are. Even in the seemingly progressive pocket that is New York City, discussing mental health, especially in a professional workspace, is looked at as taboo. Society has told us, anxiety means you will worry too much about that deadline and willingly let the impending doom ball into a tumble weed of catastrophic thought patterns. Depression means you will always call in late, if you come in at all, and become a dry well of creativity. Mental illnesses like bipolar and chronic depression are even listed as disabilities when filling out a job application, which can be a catch-22. While it is a step towards transparency, the preconceived stereotype of what it means to have these disorders still lingers. Therefore, it seems our mainstream culture has not yet aligned with our disclosure methods. Even the phrase ‘mental illness’ or ‘mental disorder’ can be hindering to use in a public setting with people you are trying to make an admirable impression on.

Photography by Cory Ingram.

What’s more peculiar is how we tend to put a mask on when participating these networking events. We try to pretend to be ultra-confident and cool, discussing our talent, which normally displays how we are anything but the persona we are attempting to give off.

As creatives, we are vocal about our vulnerabilities through the work we make. We use tools like writing, singing, photographing, performing, painting, and several other mediums to highlight our highs and lows in a tangible way. Then we showcase these works of art to the masses, hoping others digest our message, empathize and ultimately feel less alone. So wouldn’t you think if we moved past the nerve-wrecking facade of having it all together, we could just be our flawed but lovely, transparent selves? The only way we can obtain the growth and understanding we want surrounding mental illness is, first, being more open and honest, especially when we are not at our best. If we want to see any real progression, it’s vital to be upfront about the bad days, beyond just through our craft.

I want to work towards living in a professional world where we can freely say, “I create really awesome things, I’m a hard worker, and I also have this mental illness.” And, instead of hesitant tongues due to the so-called forbidden topic, we can welcome each other with open arms, patient minds and, in some instances, disclose similar struggles. Instead of pretending everything is perfect, we can cheer to acknowledging human beings are messy and complex, and, in turn, feel a little less alone.