How to name your mental health disorder!

Quick heads up: I’m going to spend this entire post trying to remember the name of the memoir where this idea first presented itself to me.

Aren’t things so much more mysterious and threatening when referred to in hushed whispers and tiptoeing around the actual word/person/situation? I mean, wasn’t that pretty much exactly what Harry Potter taught us? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named became a lot less terrifying with a name like Tom Riddle. On that note, why everyone in the wizarding world wordlessly agreed to not only refer to him as Voldemort, but Lord Voldemort to boot was a total missed opportunity to bring that pale turd down a few pegs.

The Harry Potter franchise aside, the things that go unnamed and therefore unconfronted have a way of growing larger than life. I’m here today to invite you to take your asshole of a mental health disorder down a few pegs by giving it a name. I’m not talking about the clinical name all the good doctors and therapists refer to it by, I’m talking about a name just between you, your disorder, and the people close enough to you who find it perfectly natural to name this looming, recurring presence in your life.

I recommend choosing a name you either really hate or you know for certain your disorder would hate. For me, Bertha is the perfect name for my anorexia. She would hate that name. Absolutely hate it. It makes me feel like I’ve snuck back a little of the power she so often drains from me.

Also, I don’t know about you but it’s nice to once an awhile remind myself that my disorder isn’t me. Sure, it’s a part of me, but it has a name separate from mine. It has not consumed me.

For me, the idea of naming this constant struggle in my life makes it marginally more tolerable. Not to mention easier for me to explain to my loved ones why I’m having a tough day. “Bertha’s stopped by for a visit,” I could say. “And she brought eight suitcases. I think she’s staying awhile.” (Note: I recommend making your disorder name easily distinguishable from any equally helpful name you’ve given your period to make life a little easier for your spouse).

This trick won’t make your disorder go away by any means, but struggling with mental health always feels so heavy. If nothing else, this might work to make the weight of it a little less crushing. It might brighten the moment just enough to see the smallest slivers of light to get you through the next few hours. It might even force it to relinquish even the smallest bit of power, tipping the scales just enough to make you say, “I’ve got this. Today, I’ve got this.”

Go forth and name, friends. Even if just for a laugh or two.

P.S. I failed to remember the memoir… A million apologies to the brilliant author who came up with this idea in the first place.