Before you know it, you’re in a downward spiral, and the slope is far steeper and slipperier than you ever imagined.
I remember vividly, the day I walked under a bridge in Calgary, Alberta. I was dressed in a suit, carrying my laptop case on my way to meet with the Superintendent of the local school district. As I passed under the bridge, I noticed a homeless man sitting on the ground, a paper bag at his side—a silent marker of his struggle.
He looked up at me and said, “I used to be just like you.”
I didn’t believe him. How could someone like me, with my career and confidence, ever end up sitting under a bridge? I was polite, said hello, and kept walking, thinking I was compassionate and understanding. But in truth, I didn’t understand at all.
It wasn’t until a few years later that life taught me how quickly everything can fall apart. Relationships unravel. Careers shift. The possessions and stability you’ve worked so hard for can slip away faster than you realize. Before you know it, you’re in a downward spiral, and the slope is far steeper and slipperier than you ever imagined.
When it happened to me, I didn’t know where to turn. I didn’t even know what was happening. Why couldn’t I fix it, like I’d always been able to fix everything else?
I thought I had poor character.
I thought I was broken and weak.
I thought I was hopeless.
I wanted to hide, to disappear.
I was embarrassed, ashamed, and above all, I was terrified.
Looking back now, a few years later, I see it differently. I was sick, not broken. I needed help, not shame and judgment. Without the unwavering support of my family and close friends, I don’t know that I’d be here to tell this story.
But there’s a sadness, too, when I reflect on those years. The time it took me to understand what was happening, the preventable crises, the pain my family endured, the relationships and self-respect I lost—it didn’t have to be that way.
A century ago, we had wisdom and supports for people and families in crisis, however they have remained anonymous, hidden to most of us, buried under stigma, bureaucracy, and misunderstanding.
This needs to change.
I believe it’s time to raise awareness about the silent struggles happening all around us—struggles that can take anyone, no matter how strong or successful, to the brink. It’s time for us to extend compassion and support before the crisis, before the slope becomes too slippery to climb back up.
It starts with how we see people. Until we can look at the mentally unwell, the homeless, the addicts, the people we label as “repulsive”, and recognize them as human—as much like us as anyone—we can’t begin to address the real problem.
Unfortunately, mental health challenges are often misunderstood, especially when compared with the “serious” killers. People suffering with cancer or heart disease are treated as heroes. People suffering with mental illness are shamed and judged.
mental health-related deaths account for 1.2–1.7 million deaths annually
50% of us will experience a mental health illness at some point in our lifetime
1 in 5 of us are suffering today
All of us will be impacted by this tragedy at some point, personally, in our family, our friendships, or workplace.
Let’s create a world where no one has to fall as far as I did before finding help. Let’s raise awareness, foster compassion, and build support systems that meet people where they are—before it’s too late.
I believe that together, we can make a difference.
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