Your guide to a good confession
In his own words, David says that “Less than kind colleagues have suggested I’m so ancient I attended AWARD School with Leo Burnett himself.” Having had a successful career in the creative industry, David now spends his time advocating for mental wellness with The Black Dog Institute as well as teaching Mental Health First Aid as a trained instructor.
Words by David Westgate
If you’ve ever held down a job while suffering from depression, anxiety, or something worse, you are stronger than you can imagine. Dragging yourself from bed every day in the belief that the clouds will clear and the fog will roll away takes guts. Just ask The Rock, Sir Winston Churchill, or Beyonce.
That said, if you’ve ever been through this without confiding in someone, you will never know the freedom of the alternative. I worked as a writer for most of my life, all while suffering from bipolar 1 - and never said a word.
Confiding and seeking help has major benefits. Wearing an “I’m Fine” mask while working at the pace of a two-toed sloth, may only make people question your attitude or think you’re incompetent.
Honesty, on the other hand gives you a chance for understanding and acceptance. It gives your boss and team a chance to make adjustments which can help everyone, including you. It will also conserve all that energy you burned in trying to keep up appearances.
Clearly, confiding is not a decision you make lightly. If your boss is a bigger prick than a cactus, you may be better off keeping your chin up and your lips shut tight. But for the sake of this article, let’s assume they are a decent human being.
Firstly, think about confiding on a day you’re feeling relatively well and you have your shit together. Crawling into your boss in a flood of tears may not achieve your desired end-result. Especially if you crawl back out leaving them a problem rather than a few ideas as to how, together, you might start making things better.
Share with your boss that you are telling them about your illness (and yes, that’s all it is) out of respect and not to play poor-me. You’re not seeking sympathy, just empathy and understanding. And have the chat in privacy, away from the prying eyes and big ears of your colleagues.
Okay, enough about what I’m telling you to do. Let me share what I did.
A few years ago, I took a long contract with an agency. Rather than hide my mental health issue or, to be less boringly politically correct, my mental illness, I decided to confide in my future boss.
When I did so, he simply said, “What can we do to help?” I nearly cried.
After years of believing that to confide in a manager would lead to my immediate marching orders or put a large black cross above my head, he simply asked how he could help me?
Truth was, there wasn’t much he needed to do as I was fine. In fact, I think I took the least amount of days off during my stay than anyone else in the agency. And when I did, it was a joy to not have to ring up and say I had gastric or a cold. I’d just ring him, tell him the truth, and help him reallocate any horridly urgent work that was required for that day. You know the ones: brief in at midday, work out by 6pm.
Better still, if you’re a manager and you’ve ever suffered from mental illness, do everyone in your agency a favour and speak openly about it. You’ll win the undying gratitude and respect of those you lead.
Playing out your career like some superhuman while living in denial simply reinforces the stigma that mental illness is for the weak and something to be ashamed of. That success and mental illness are mutually exclusive.
But no matter where you sit on the totem pole, be kind to one another and especially those who may be suffering.
Given the statistics, there’s a very good chance it may be someone sat to your left or right. Perhaps even one day, you.
