My father also taught me how to mask my mental illness like an absolute champ. My father was extremely mentally ill. He was a pathological liar amongst other things. I won’t get into all of it because it’s not really anyone’s business now and he spent his life covering up huge chunks of who he was. Partially because his illness was harmful not just to himself but to others. Even if you knew him well though, you probably had no idea how sick he was on the inside.

The thing is we learn from our parents in many ways. Sometimes because they actively teach us and other times because they actively or passively model things for us. My dad taught me the value of honesty because I saw how much lies could hurt people. 

But he also taught me how to parrot other people’s behaviors and mannerisms. He taught me how to carry on a conversation with someone when it feels like your skin is on fire from standing there and pretending to be ok. He taught me how to pass. 

I have multiple mental illness diagnoses. Most of them are genetic, passed on from both sides of my family (thanks guys). A lot of people don’t know that. Especially my colleagues and professional connections. My success in my career has been in large part because I am very good at masking. I don’t think there’s anyone in my life who could tell you I’m bipolar, who doesn’t know because I told them... that doesn’t live with me. People are shocked when I tell them I have paralyzing social anxiety. 

I have a lifetime build-up of coping mechanisms from years of therapy, lots of online research, and admittedly many failed attempts at unhealthy coping.  It’s been years since I’ve self-harmed, longer since I’ve put myself in dangerous situations compulsively, and so long that I no longer keep track since I have abused substances. 

But a lifetime of learning started by watching how my parents carried their burdens, albeit very differently. My mother went to therapy and was on medication most of my life... she also chain-smoked cigarettes every day. My dad rejected his diagnoses, refused therapy, and struggled daily to put on his mask, but he wore it, and rarely did it slip. He wore it for me, he wore it for his friends, his church, his family, and most of all for himself. Even though both my parents' mental health impacted me in negative ways as well it also gave me a lifelong example that you CAN succeed while carrying heavy burdens. 

We are all a summation of our experiences. How we let those experiences mold us and how we respond to them is up to us. I didn’t get to choose who my parents were and which of their genetic traits I’d get stuck with. But we all did the best with what we had, and we loved each other despite all of it. Maybe not the way “traditional” families do, but I seem to have turned out alright.