My mother-in-law from out of state is visiting us for a few days. This is her second night here. At first I was nervous. I'd only ever met her at the wedding, and we know very little about each other.

Compound the matter with the fact that hubby often wants to hide my psychiatric illness. If I'm hospitalized for it, he wants to neglect the words "psychiatric" or "mental," and let people assume I'm in the hospital for my diabetes or something. We rescheduled all of my p-doc and T appointments until after her visit, so it wouldn't be obvious to her that I have need of those things. Hubby's "let's hide it" attitude was making me even more nervous--oh my gosh, what is she going to think of me? What is she going to go back home and tell the rest of hubby's family about me?

With the visit going smoothly so far, Mom happened to casually mention a young, fairly close relative of theirs needing treatment for bipolar disorder. Hubby had no idea, and was astounded. I answered that I sympathize with the young man, since I also have a psychiatric disorder for which I must take medication. Mom didn't blink an eye. We then had a short discussion on how unhelpful and nonsensical it is to ask a question like, "What are you depressed about?" To me it makes the same amount of sense to ask, "What are you diabetic about?" She completely understood.

Later after she had gone to bed, I told hubby, "Now you see? There is no reason to be ashamed of me having an illness." Hubby answered, "Well, it's not that I'm ashamed of it. I just don't understand it." This may be true as far as it goes, but then, why would he want to hide it? From where I sit, if you want to keep something secret, shame is the reason.

As a child, I hadn't yet been diagnosed with anything but had been suspecting I had a problem. If I said so, adult family members would take the stance of, "Oh, there's nothing wrong with you. You just need to straighten up and fly right." Attitudes like that are the reason I despise the term "behavioral health." It implies that there is no illness involved, that all you have to do is "behave" and everything is fine. There is nothing wrong with "mental health." It doesn't need a euphemism.

I first began counseling after being sexually abused when I was 12, and when my mother heard me telling someone where I had just been (to a counseling session) she rebuked me for it. She didn't want people to know.

But if we all talked about it freely, just the same as we do diabetes, heart disease, cancer, or any other illness, wouldn't it take the stigma away? Hubby feels much better now about his family knowing I have a mental illness, now that he has found out his own close relative has one too. Keeping these things hush-hush helps absolutely no one.