There can exist a silent shame for minorities in the U.S. Suffering from mental illness. This shame shields people from seeking help or even speaking honestly to professionals about their symptoms for fear of letting the family down. Here is one woman’s story about how hiding her mental illness from her Asian American family almost killed her.
From Vox:
“Don’t you dare go back to that doctor,” my mother growled into the phone. “He’ll put ‘bipolar’ on your record and then you’ll never be able to get a job.”
I nodded into the receiver. “Okay.”
I never went back. Seven years later, I woke up in a psych ward.
Growing up, I thought I was emotionally healthy. I had a large Chinese family on my mother’s side (my father is white). We were a lively, loud, tight-knit group consisting of around 20 blood relatives and 3 million non-blood relatives. Everyone knew each other’s business. Distant family members inquired about school, commented on my weight, and asked if I had a boyfriend. The only time it was “quiet” was when the Mahjong table came out and the only noise you’d hear was the click-clacking of tiles.
But when I look back, I realize that we shied away from the important topics. Mental health was rarely discussed, but when it was, it was always in a negative light. At no point did any of my relatives tell me having a mental disorder, theoretically at this point, was unacceptable — I could tell by their hushed tones, and their quick dismissals, that mental illness was not an option.
I never questioned it. If relatives felt comfortable enough teasing me about my grades or weight, then surely they’d be okay with talking about mental health? The reality was not even close.
Most people know the stigma associated with mental illness. But there’s even more stigma within communities of color, and within Asian culture, it’s particularly bad. It’s like Russian nesting dolls of shame.
Scientific research shows the severity of mental health issues among Asian Americans. Studies have found a few common causes — shame, fear, and avoidance, all of which have roots in the culture and the “model minority” stereotype. One could argue most people, regardless of race, are reluctant to discuss their mental state, but studies show Asian Americans are three times less likely than white people to seek mental health treatment. Another study carried out in 2011 showed that Asian Americans typically avoid mental health services because “opting to utilize such services requires admitting the existence of a mental health problem and may cause shame to the family if personal issues become public.”
For the first 27 years of my life, I kept my deteriorating mental health under lock and key for one straightforward reason: I was scared of embarrassing my mother. I believed I would be seen as broken or defective and bring shame on my family.
Any Asian person, especially women, will tell you about the pressures of growing up in many Asian households — the high expectations, the keeping up of appearances, and the toxic “model minority” stereotype that continually hums in the background of your life. There’s an expectation to stand out for the “right” reasons — meaning good grades, a fancy job, high salary, good social standing, and having a husband or wife. In my family’s minds, having a mental illness can prevent you from achieving those things. And if you’re not achieving everything, then why are you even here?
To continue reading this article on Vox, click here.
For those in West Side Cleveland area experiencing symptoms of mental illness, we’re here to help.