Patches, here is the thing from my perspective. Uh, no way am I voluntarily "coming out" to the wider world. A handful of people who I can trust, only if I feel very safe with them. I don't know about elsewhere, but here in the US, people equate any kind of mental illness with the violent few such as the mass shooters or the type that kidnaps women and holds them as sex slaves. Because the average American only hears the 30 second sound bite on the evening news, and critical thinking isn't really emphasized by our schools. Yes, it only perpetuates not to be open about it, but I am no Rosa Parks, I don't have her courage or dignity under fire. So, I live in fear of people finding out and shunning me.

TRIGGER WARNING

I went to pretty far extremes last year to cover up the fact I was forced into a day hospital program against my will. I was, and am, terrified about what could happen if I'm outed. I did a lot of things to cover it up, got a new cell on a different carrier, new untraceable email with a different internet service provider, lied a whole lot and got a couple of other people to lie for me, got a post office box at a Mailboxes etc store, I didn't even write checks to many service providers, paid cash. I carried all of the paperwork, receipts etc for months in a locked metal box hidden under the seat of my car. Telling my boss I needed time off for a medical leave was extremely traumatic, I puked for 30 minutes afterwards. Something that ostensibly was "for my own good" or "to help me" almost ruined my life. I felt like a prisoner of war.

And I came very close to killing myself over it, I sat on a dock in the pre-dawn darkness of a Sunday morning with a gun and bullets with the intent of shooting myself, but I couldn't go through with it. Such was the quality of the "professional help" I received, treated like a criminal. And, you know what it did to my self esteem? Destroyed it completely. My initial diagnosis was bipolar, I was later correctly diagnosed with PTSD. All of this was a great thing to do to a guy with PTSD, abused by my father, beaten up by life, I make what I think is a good choice to help myself have a better life. I go see some quack Dr I didn't 't check out first, my bad. I walk out an hour later truly suicidal for the first time in my life. And if I had a dollar for very time since in the last year I have been sorry I couldn't find the strength to pull the trigger that morning, I would be about half way to buying a new Mercedes or Cadillac.

This isn't meant as a personal attack on you in any way, I don't know you, and there are good, competent, caring MH professionals out there. The fact that you post here means you must be one of those that care about patients (I hate saying I'm a "mental patient", I much prefer the euphemism 'client'.)

It's probably obvious, but I am bitter, I am lost, it often feels like I was the one punished for being a victim of others. And it is just an ongoing, 24/7 nightmare that never seems to end and never gets better.