Truth Telling

Last night I had dinner with a wonderful woman who also had a parent with mental illness. She has become a therapist and expert in trauma recovery, focusing on mind-body healing. In our conversation we talked often about truth telling and being authentic. To whom do you tell the truth, especially when the truth is something they don't want to hear? What is the purpose of truth telling for someone who has been the survivor of abuse, whether through direct attack or through the willingness of family, friends or the larger health system to turn away and pretend ignorance?

This reminded me of a plenary speech I gave in Montana last year. Below is the section of that speech that captures my reflections on truth telling:

The invitation I received to speak with you today included a request that I share my story, my mother’s and my grandmothers. First, I want to note important issues related to disclosing another person’s story. There is an interesting tension regarding disclosure, respect and privacy in mental health. Talking about my experience as a daughter and as a woman who has recovered from serious trauma and disclosing the experiences of my mother and grandmother are different things. People in mental health consumer rights would know that sharing my mother’s story is something she needs to approve. My mother passed away, in fact, all of my parents have passed away. However, I had daily conversations with my mother until she died and I know that she would have approved of my sharing what I know of her story because she was passionate about human rights for people with mental illness and proud of the work I have been doing to speak out on behalf of parents with mental health experiences.

But that is not all that I would like to say about disclosure. Why is disclosure important and helpful? What does it mean to disclose appropriately? What are the professional norms that create a chilling effect and sometimes a judgment against people who disclose?

To me, dynamics regarding disclosure are related to issues of power. Before I share how this power dynamic impacts me, let me parallel this chain of thoughts with experience I have gained in my professional work. Professionally my experience is largely program development for people impacted by large-scale human and natural caused disasters. My work has led me to work on behalf of people who were victims of torture, refugees and communities impacted by the World Trade Center disaster. Working on behalf of whole communities that have experienced injustice, I have learned the importance of public truth telling as part of healing and regaining a balance of power. This is also true for people who experience private abuse such as domestic violence, molestation, and rape.

Speaking publicly regarding events that have been internalized as shameful has two positive and clear results.

One, for the person who has internalized a “secret”, speaking openly releases the false belief that what happened is somehow shameful.

Second, speaking openly changes power inequities between groups of people. When one group of people has an experience and another group denies the reality of that experience, a power difference is reinforced. This closes possibilities for genuine dialogue. In the worst-case scenario, a perpetrator denies the reality of his/her victim in public and insists on secrecy. On a broader level, entire groups of people can be culturally trained to deny the experience of other groups of people. As I say this I realize some people might think I am taking specifically about mental health systems, but I am not, per se. I am thinking of a wide range of situations, from experiences of systemic racism to incest. However, the relevance of truth telling within mental health systems is increasingly important to address historic injustices and move forward toward healing.

What I am simply saying is that speaking openly about things that have been hidden or invisible is empowering, liberating, and changes the internal beliefs within people who have felt that they should feel shame about their life experiences. Disclosure, then, is an important tool and can have a deliberate impact. This is why we have books with titles such as “speaking truth to power” and “truth and reconciliation” efforts in places like Liberia and South Africa.

In mental health we are now looking at truth telling in topic areas such as addressing seclusion and restraint, use of jail systems to house mentally ill people and other systemic abuses of people who struggle with mental health issues. There is much more truth telling and reconciliation to be done in our experience as people directly or indirectly impacted by mental health systems.

Regarding disclosure: We all come from cultures that define what we think is appropriate or not appropriate to share. This can vary from state to state, from class level, from ethnic background and from professional training. What we must strive for, however, is genuine dialogue. We must strive to acknowledge the experience of others.

In my case, I come from a group of people you have probably not heard about. My group is sometimes called “invisible children”. I will discuss the concept of invisible children in my workshop tomorrow. For now I can simply say that I am one of millions of people who have had an parent with mental illness.