Read Online Am I Normal Yet? by Holly Bourne - Free Book Online Page B

them into behaving how we want them to so we don’t freak out and ruin the day. Mum and Dad were told not to “indulge” my worries. I just wish they hadn’t taken to it so enthusiastically. I know it sounds stupid, but it feels like they’re being mean. Like they’re against me. And it doesn’t help that Mum keeps twitching about Rose – worrying I’m going to break the only perfectly-functioning offspring she has left.
    We ate dinner. It tasted of burnt. Yet we all pretended it was yummy because Mum kept asking, “Is it okay? Is the sauce too thick? It’s too thick, isn’t it?” while Dad drank a bit too much wine. Once I’d finished, I carried my plate to the sink then went up to my room. Washing up was something I hadn’t quite conquered yet and Mum, thankfully, didn’t force the issue if I helped cook or lay the table. I just couldn’t stand washing up. The fact that all the bits of food come off the plate into the bowl and float about, waiting to attach themselves to the next thing you put in there to be washed? How did that clean anything? And don’t get me started on the number of germs in every kitchen sink. Honestly, you’d rather lick a toilet if you knew.
    I sat at my desk and mucked about on my Casablanca essay for a bit, but I couldn’t focus. Sarah’s appointment was bothering me.
    Why couldn’t I tell Amber and Lottie about my issues? What was I really scared of? Surely they wouldn’t dump me? As long as I stayed normal enough not to piss them off…
    Yet I just knew I couldn’t. Mainly because they seemed to like who I was and I didn’t want to tarnish the illusion. And also, well, what if I told them and they reacted in one of the ways I hated?
    What really pisses me off about people and mental health problems
    I don’t really “get” angry. If I’m going to be emotional, I do sad. Crying. Not swearing and yelling and punching walls.
    Apart from about this.
    Sarah once told me about the “dark ages” of public awareness, where people didn’t really know much about mental health problems. And what they did know was mostly wrong. There was loads of MISINFORMATION and STIGMA and it was really terrible and everyone suffered in silence for ages, not knowing what was wrong, and not seeking help because they didn’t understand what their brain was doing to them and why.
    But then we decided we needed to CHANGE THE WAY WE THINK about mental illness. Huge awareness campaigns were set up. A few soaps gave their characters depression and whatnot, following each episode with a voiceover saying, “If you’ve been upset by anything seen on this programme, go to this website and yadda yadda yadda.” Slowly, but surely, mental health eked its way into the public consciousness. People began to learn the names of conditions. People began to understand the symptoms. People began to say the oh-so-important phrase “it’s not their fault”. There was SYMPATHY and UNDERSTANDING. Even some politicians and celebs came out, as it were, and told national newspapers about their own suicide attempts or whatever.
    We couldn’t stop there, could we?
    I can say, with some confidence, that it’s gone too far the other way. Because now mental health disorders have gone “mainstream”. And for all the good it’s brought people like me who have been given therapy and stuff, there’s a lot of bad it’s brought too.
    Because now people use the phrase OCD to describe minor personality quirks. “Oooh, I like my pens in a line, I’m so OCD.”
    NO YOU’RE FUCKING NOT.
    â€œOh my God, I was so nervous about that presentation, I literally had a panic attack.”
    NO YOU FUCKING DIDN’T.
    â€œI’m so hormonal today. I just feel totally bipolar.”
    SHUT UP, YOU IGNORANT BUMFACE.
    Told you I got angry.
    These words – words like OCD