Navigating Vulnerability: A Story of Words, Backlash, and Growth

Navigating Vulnerability: A Story of Words, Backlash, and Growth

Have you ever had one of those weeks where you feel like you've literally stuck your foot in it? Not just a minor slip-up, like “damn, I broke the tip of my pencil”. More like, “Holy Jeez, what was I thinking? Yeah, me too. It's like waking up in the morning, swinging your feet out of bed, and landing them squarely in a cold, smelly pile of... "gifts" from your loving pet.

Yeah, it's been one of those weeks. Let me tell you about my latest blunder … at least it feels that way now. You might have noticed that our last article now comes in two flavours. Vanilla and decidedly NOT vanilla. Wondering why?

The Back Story: Our Learning Moments go live each week on social media first. Then a few days later we send them via our email list. So there I was, writing what I thought was a heartfelt article about my family's struggles with mental health and substance disorders. I hit 'publish' with the confidence of a seasoned chef presenting filet mignon at a dinner party, expecting compliments. But as soon as the article went live,

it felt like I'd served a raw hamburger. The backlash was immediate and brutal. 

When the original version of “Family Living With Mental Health and Substance Disorders” (the title was just a wee bit different) went live, feedback was ... well, let's just say it wasn't the usual fare - so much so, that some of our regular partner channels yanked it down faster than a kid stealing candy. Clearly, I had obviously poked a soft underbelly. THIS was hugely different from most of our Learning Moments, which hardly ever receive any comments. Most seem to go into a dark void. Boy!, was I surprised.

The Good, The Bad and the Ugly: But hey, not all feedback was bad. More than half of it was awesome. People were saying this was "the story of their life." The feedback was like a storm front. Some comments were refreshing breezes, lifting my spirits, while others were full-on tornadoes, tearing my intentions apart. Isn't that interesting? No middle ground  – readers either loved it or hated it, and believe me, some people really hated it. 

So, What Went Wrong? Let's take a look – The Ugly:

That clown image? Yikes, it offended some folks big time. Sometimes the gap between intent and perception is as wide as the Grand Canyon. The clown image was meant to symbolize the chaos of mental health crises, but some people saw it as mockery. – it was a graphic metaphor for the mental health monster that lives in our loved ones during a psychotic episode. 

It was meant to conjure up Stephen King's terrifying "IT" character. For those familiar with King's work, you'll get the metaphor. Any family who's stared into the eyes of a loved one during a psychosis episode knows that King's "IT" is child's play in comparison.

I used the word “crazy” in the title. Comments came fast and furious on how stigmatizing this word is for many. Even though in the article, I go to great lengths to provide knowledge about first-person language. It’s a reminder that language is a powerful tool, but it can also be a double-edged sword.

On some level, receiving instant feedback on this word is great. It shows that people are beginning to understand the power of words. That’s a good thing!

On the flip side, as someone who's been there (lived experience), certain words feel earned, like battle scars. I identify with those words and phrases. On a gut level, It feels like I have earned the right to use every single syllable in “that” word. One person said I should have evolved further and that I’m a parent/adult, so I should hold myself to a higher expectation. WTH?? - I’m still struggling with this comment. Somehow lived experience for families gets treated differently? 

Clickbait or Not To Clickbait: Some told me that I deliberately sensationalized the beginning of the article, using clickbait, suggesting I was trying to imitate the National Enquirer – I plead, partly guilty – I just wanted people to read it. Admittedly I chose poor wording, thinking I was being sophisticatedly internet/media savvy, whereas it just came off as being a smartass. - so lesson learned, I immediately revised the image and content.

Hence the reason there are now two versions – even the original version has been revised and toned down. But here's the thing – The internet is NOT a forgiving place. Even when you accept feedback, revise and change content, and try to make amends. Sorry doesn't stop the haranguing. It’s an interesting observation of our times and human nature.

Pulling The Wings Off Butterflies: One person wrote that the article was the worst thing they had ever read. That it should be instantly banned by Instagram and Facebook. They further stated that the piece did not help people with mental health or substance disorders, rather it deeply hurt them. They insinuated that families shouldn’t get to tell their truth because it puts people with concurrent disorders in a bad light. They even questioned why our Community Action Team would support such an article.

 – I was initially stunned by this perception. First of all, CAT Teams represent ALL aspects and perspectives of everyone victimized by the crisis. That includes families and what they live with – not just the direct sufferers or victims of mental health or substance disorders. It's not like we don't have a ton of Learning Moment articles reflecting the journey of people with concurrent disorders. However, this particular article isn’t intended for that part of concurrent disorders stories. – it’s intended for families who are starting their journey or families who have lived it for years – families need to know they are not alone. Others have lived their journey and pain.

The Bad: Admittedly by this point, I was feeling a bit beat up and was questioning why I had in any way thought that writing about this particular part of my own family’s journey and other families' experiences was a good idea. I’m guessing part of the controversy was being driven because I was writing the article as though most of it was from other families' perspectives and not owning that a good part of it was my own journey. I felt self-protective when created the article. I guess at some level, I sensed people would judge and I didn’t want to be cut out from the rest of the herd – look how that turned out. I mentioned this in one reply to a post and a person immediately came back at me and pointed out, that if you’re going to publish on the internet you better be prepared for criticism. Noted!

Stats Tell A Different Story: There is more feedback, however, you have enough to sense the angst the piece has caused. One final observation. After I published the sensitized version, it received 12 reads over the next 24 hours. The original version received hundreds of reads. Over the last week, the original versus the revised is running two to one. Maybe the National Enquirer knows something. I wonder what water they drink that gives them such tough skin?

The Good - The Power of Storytelling: 

Writing this piece felt like standing on a stage, spotlight on me, with a thousand eyes watching. It took three years to gather the courage, and when I finally spoke, I knew I was risking something – I just had no clue how much was at stake. However, changing the narrative around mental health requires that we have to speak up, no matter how scary it is. And not just the good parts of our stories, but the bad and ugly too. Reflecting the truth of our journeys, it has to be honest first, written from our own experiences and perspectives, including in our words, language, and reality. That can make it raw and apparently, it even makes people angry.

Thanks for sticking with me through the ups and downs. Sharing these stories is like planting seeds in rocky soil—it's tough, and sometimes it feels like nothing will grow. But with patience and care, something beautiful can come from it, even if it's not the shape we expected. This journey of compassion and understanding isn't a straight path. There are twists and turns, and sometimes, like SpaceX rockets, things don't go as planned. I wasn’t expecting this dogleg from this article, but like Space X rockets, you have to keep trying. One final comment - a friend told me – “They read it. Maybe that’s enough.”

I can't say I won't make a future faux pas - Frankly, I'm not sure it is possible to write about the myriad of issues around the toxic drug crisis without stepping on toes at some point. As some wise person once told me, omelets don't get made without breaking eggs. However, I can assure that one commenter who criticized my evolving abilities, evolution has occurred. I'm just not sure it's in the direction they would like it to be.   


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