It’s been over a week now since I began the Artefacts of Life Project. People have been kind and brave in sharing their experiences. Many of these have asked to remain private. It is a clear indication that, for some, the spectre of their mental illness hangs heavy. Perhaps this is because being brave enough to share private thoughts and feelings is attached to a prevailing sense of fear – fear of exposing something that is often incredibly raw and often triggering. Also, sharing something very intimate comes with its own consequences.

I think back to my first foray into sharing my own past and present surrounding my illness. When I joined Facebook in 2006, I had no restrictions on what I shared and with whom – it was a selective social network for people from certain universities and people who knew me were already aware of my struggles with mental ill-health. I didn’t feel I needed to censor myself. When Facebook became available to all, more ‘friends’ became part of my community. But still I thought nothing of pouring my thoughts and feelings out into this sphere. I’m not sure how helpful this was, but because I felt no sense of greater judgement, I persisted. It was only when I got a full-time job, in a school, that I realised that I should be more careful about what I shared with ‘friends’. It took some time to recognise that, particularly when events had had a detrimental effect on my mental health, I should keep this to myself. Eventually understood that I should change my approach to using Facebook, unfortunately the damage was done.

I became reticent to be open about the more powerful and troubling aspects of my experience. It also highlighted to me that being open on social media comes with its own baggage and consequences. Working in the public sector dictates that you should be less open about sharing how you feel, but in attempting initially to veil some of my feelings in ambiguity it became constricting and upsetting. So I changed my focus to Twitter, a variant of social media that I hoped would be more anonymous. The whole point of my decision to embrace Twitter particularly was bound up in a sense that I had found an understanding and empathetic community. But it was very difficult to utilise this support network and be part of a wider ‘family’ when your workplace demands that you censor yourself or remove yourself completely from public social media. I am cognizant of the importance of being professional, especially when in a job (in my case teaching, although I no longer work in the school system) that can be damaged by being accessible to all and sundry, but this felt like punishment. I did accept that having a locked account was the responsible option, but this did not mean necessarily being hidden completely from the public. People can have seemingly innocuous accounts, but this is also a way to keep one eye on what are very private thoughts and feelings. Fighting feelings of stigma is made worse by the paranoia of being observed, even if in reality this is not happening. When you suffer from terrible, often psychotic bouts of paranoia that permeate every facet of your life, feeling that you are being monitored only serves to fuel the anxiety and the conviction that you are being judged, perhaps by people who hold definitive convictions of who and how you are. And I emphasise that my paranoia is often unfounded; who knows if, in this case, I was correct?

Since January, I have had an unlocked account and feel more connected again to the wider support network. But this is my choice.

When I started Artefacts of Life, I forgot to take into account the reticence people might have about being completely public about their lived experience. To offer up something that is intensely emotive in the public domain is often a non-starter. It is too much of risk. This is not just because they fear being caught out, but also because they are scared of what it means to offer up something intimate and private. It has taken time for me to be honest and open about my illness. For some it may never feel safe to be so candid.

In asking people to open themselves up to The Artefacts of Life Project may be a slow process. I am hoping that when people see others who have joined in, they may consider adding their thoughts to the narrative. The project is designed to offer something in return for sharing something about their lived experience; not that I think that I am claiming to speak for anyone, but I want to create an anthology of sorts that contains something that might represent an impression of how people feel about living with a mental illness. If it comes to nothing, I think I will have learnt a lot either way.

But, if you feel inclined to join the project, I promise I will honour your anonymity. Thank you for those who have already added their voice, I feel humbled by your sharing, but also daunted at the prospect of doing justice to some very complex feelings. It’s all very well for me to have tried to use visual art to convey something of my own experience; it is another to attempt this for other people!

I am grateful for all my friends on social media. Thank you for being there for me.

Emma xx