How Can I Help a Friend Living With a Mental Illness?

Recently, I've been drawn into this issue about mental health. Now that it's an issue that has gained a lot of traction, more and more people are reaching out to tell their stories. I believe that's a good thing.

While I don't have any diagnosed mental illness myself, I am living with someone who does. My mother was diagnosed with bipolar disorder long ago. With that, I can relate with matters of mental health on a very personal level.

This is my story. And my mum's too.

I was still very young at the time (maybe six years old) when my mum was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. As such, I could not understand it. I was troubled each time my mum swung from extremes of mood. It was absolutely tough. My mum's random bouts of hyperactivity then instantly crashing into episodes of extreme depression took a toll on me. "What's wrong with mum?" I'd ask myself. In the hyperactive phase, she would often yell at me without warning, for no reason at all. On the other hand, she would lie in bed to almost no end in the depressive phase. There were no discernible triggers. No signs to prepare me for what was coming next. They would just happen in cycles like a sine wave, but with no definite period.

Those moments when she would yell at me, I feel the urge to yell back. What did I do even? I have the right to explain myself. But whenever I do that, her brain waves would go even more out of control. Yelling back was as effective as throwing a pebble at an angry bear ready to maul you – it just would make things worse.

How about the opposite, when she decides sleeping all day is the best thing to do? Arguably, it's less of a nightmare than the manic phase. No yelling, no screaming, no fighting. But getting her to even move an inch becomes a Herculean task. No amount of positive words and encouraging pep talk will make her rouse out of bed. Sometimes, I would even give her food on the bedside only to be met with a long sigh. No will to wake up and no will to eat. That was the worst combination as I saw it in my young, naive eyes.

Then enlightenment came.

My mum realised she needed professional help. She got in touch with a wonderful psychologist who really had her best interests in mind. The psychologist gave her very sound advice and even coached my dad on how to deal with these unpredictable cycles of manic and depressive states.

Through my dad's guidance, I slowly was able to understand how this thing called "bipolar disorder" works. The more I knew what made my mum tick, the more compassion I felt for her. Gradually, my confusion, fear, and anger were replaced with genuine empathy and concern. Now that I get what my mum must feel whenever her mind was messing with her, I was more capable of helping her out.

Over time, I've realised three things.

So much for my mum's story. I'm glad to say that she's a lot better now than she was before. The manic and depressive episodes now only come by very rarely, and she is more aware of them.

Dealing with this mental illness has actually more to do with the people around her than the steps she takes to manage the symptoms herself. So if you're a friend (or family) of someone who has any sort of mental illness, keep these in mind.

1. Never downplay the person's story.

Any person living with depression, for example, can see their problems as insurmountable odds. To us, these may be so small (like failing a test), but to them, it means the whole world and more. They would think that their lives are worth nothing because of "minor setbacks".

Never tell them it's "just a small problem". Furthermore, never compare your "bigger problems" to theirs. Doing that would only compound the troubles they're feeling. It will do more harm than good, as they will tend to feel more depressed. They already have a big enough problem on their hands, and now a friend comes in and, inadvertently, adds to the burden. Don't be that "friend".

2. Company goes a long way.

Instead of dismissing feelings of sadness, we have to recognise that these are valid emotions. Anyone can feel sad when they fail a test. But because of depression, negative emotions are magnified to a level we cannot seem to make sense of. This is what we must bear in mind.

The best thing to do is to just be with the person. Be someone they can comfortably talk to. Be a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on – doesn't have to be literal, but you get the idea. For people living with a mental illness, just knowing that someone is truly listening to them is very helpful therapy already.

3. Don't bother with unsolicited advice.

Most of the time, they aren't asking for it anyway. People struggling with mental illness just want to let the negativity all out, and they just want someone to share their sorrows with. So no matter how easy their problems are for you to solve, just stop right there. Unwarranted advice will not help in any way.

If anything, it would only make them feel worse. It's as if you're downplaying their situations (as in tip #1). They would feel that you're not taking them seriously. To them, it's as if you just want to make this problem go away in the quickest, most convenient way possible.

Sadly, it doesn't work that way with mental illness. It isn't like a fly you can just swat away. These things don't bugger off by someone just telling them to. So cut the advice – you're not doing a radio programme; you're helping a friend.

Instead of advice, empathy is crucial. Ask yourself what you would feel if you were in their shoes?