Tag Archives: mental illness

Canada is back? When it comes to mental health, we were never there.

These are the Faces of Mental Illness. Mine is. Maybe yours is, too.

Another 6 million Canadians will suffer a mental illness this year. Almost 4,000 will die by suicide as a result.

Yet when it comes to healthcare, we are second class citizens in our own country. Stigma is the PC term, but what we are really talking about is discrimination. 

The WHO Constitution enshrines “…the highest attainable standard of health as a fundamental right of every human being.” The right to health includes access to timely, acceptable, and affordable health care of appropriate quality.

Canada is back? When it comes to mental health, we were never there. Per capita funding for mental health in Canada stands at $5.22. Compare:

UK: $62.22

AUS: $98.13

NZ: $198.93

Mental Illness Awareness Week starts tomorrow, October 2. Share this post with your Member of Parliament. Share it with your MPP/MLA/MHA/MNA. Share it and let them know that you believe a Health Accord without mental health, is no Health Accord at all. 

This is our generation’s civil rights battle.

Will you sit on the sidelines, or will you answer the call?

Leave a comment

Posted by on October 1, 2016 in Uncategorized


Tags: , ,

Featured Fellow: Martin Binette

If there’s anything I’ve learned in my mental health recovery journey, it’s the power of the personal story. As such, I’m opening up The Men’s D.E.N.’s blog to guest posts from guys struggling with or in recovery from depression. I’m very pleased to kickstart this initiative with a guest post from Martin Binette, founder of “Entre les deux oreilles” (Tr: Between the Ears), a Québec-based organisation dedicated to fighting stigma and raising awareness of mental illness and brain health issues. For our inaugural Bro Beat Bloke Blog, here’s Martin’s story…

It’s been 20 years, almost to the day, since I experienced BINETTE Martinmy first episode of major depression. I was almost 20 years old and there wasn’t any hint that I was about to go through the most difficult period of my life.

Up until that point, my life was what is considered as ‘normal’. No particular drama. I wasn’t a victim of abuse, harassment or bullying of any kind. I was as normal as it gets. Anxiety, sure, I had some. Occasional mood swings came and went. But, that happens to all of us.

Truth be told, my mental illness snuck up on me out of nowhere. In fact, I still remember our first encounter as if it were yesterday. I was in bed, just about to fall into a deep sleep when, all of a sudden, my heart started pounding. I thought it was trying to break out of my chest the same way a prisoner tries to break out of jail, by any means necessary. Breathing heavily, I tried to get out of bed and get some help. I was dizzy, my hands were numb and I felt like there was a 200 lb. anvil on my chest.

By the time the paramedics arrived, I managed to settle down somewhat. I vaguely remember asking if I had just suffered a heart attack.

“No. Have you had any panic attacks in the past?” the paramedic asked. I was confused, as if he was speaking a foreign language.

“A panic what?” I answered. “Can that kill you?”

The months that followed were a nightmare. Completely disjointed, I could barely go about my daily business. Every action required a Herculean effort. Every decision felt like a trigonometry problem. It was like I was trapped in quicksand or swimming against a strong current.

I was trapped in a body that wouldn’t function. It was like my brain decided to take a vacation. “Sorry, we are closed.” The lights were on, but nobody was home.

While my friends were savouring life’s beautiful moments of youth, I barricaded myself in my apartment. They were happy and smiling while I was apathetic, a hypochondriac and a slave to steady stream of negative thoughts.

That’s when ‘the words that kill’ were pronounced.

And not just by anyone.

My father, desperate and exasperated from seeing his son in such suffering, looked at me straight in the eyes and said:
“ENOUGH!! Pick yourself up and give yourself a kick in the ass*!”
Those words hit me just like a Mike Tyson uppercut. Right on the chin.


After the umpteenth emergency room visit and the umpteenth confirmation by a doctor that I hadn’t suffered from a heart attack or that I didn’t have a flesh eating disease, my father, desperate and exasperated from seeing his son in such suffering, looked at me straight in the eyes and said:

“ENOUGH!! Pick yourself up and give yourself a kick in the ass*!”

Those words hit me just like a Mike Tyson uppercut. Right on the chin.

It wasn’t from lack of effort or determination. It wasn’t laziness. But it was difficult, impossible even, to give myself a kick in the ass. The machine was broken and the mind has succumbed to its new master: fear.

*Author’s note: It is physically impossible to give yourself a kick in the ass, by the way. Try it. It’s like touching your elbow with your hand from the same arm. Mission impossible.)

The problem, I know very well now, was never my hind parts. Far from it. It was between my ears. I was suffering from a mental illness and there wasn’t enough kicks to the rear end in the world that would change a single thing.

I needed help and support. The help came, finally, after a few months when a doctor gave me his diagnosis: major depression with panic attacks. The little blue and yellow pills were included with the diagnosis.

The support, however, came from a particular and unexpected source. From my girlfriend at the time, my mother and my brother were there for me too but surprisingly, support also came from my father.

My father comes from a generation of men for whom mental illness was a sign of weakness. A man doesn’t cry. A man doesn’t ask for help and, a man definitely does not suffer from a mental illness. Stand up, put on your big boy pants and walk!

However, taboos and prejudices towards mental illness are not all born equal. Some are born from ignorance or lack of education. Often, it is from a desire to ridicule or to judge. Sometimes, however, the source of the prejudice can come from a much deeper source.

That day when my father uttered those words will remain forever etched in my memory. I remember seeing, in the blue of his eyes, a deep pain and an immeasurable sadness.

A long time had passed before I finally grasped the real meaning of those words uttered by my father that day. It was a cry from the heart. An immense pledge of love towards his son launched through the only words available to him at the time.

It was also at that time that I realized that in order to change his perception, his way of seeing things, was to break the silence and open up a dialogue with my father about my mental illness.

Since being diagnosed over 20 years ago, much water has flowed under the bridge. I stopped counting the number of episodes and panic attacks. I lost count a long time ago. Although I consider myself incredibly lucky to be under the care of an excellent psychiatrist, I know that depression and anxiety will be a part of my life for the rest of my life. It is like a marriage without the possibility of divorce.

What reassures me is knowing that I have the unwavering and unconditional support of my family and friends.

I also know that, if there is a storm on the horizon, my father will be there to look me in the eye and say: “Come on, let’s talk about it.”

Albert Einstein once said: “It is easier to disintegrate an atom than to break a prejudice.”

My father is certainly not a physicist but he is living proof that a prejudice can be disintegrated and reduced to nothing.

A bit of open mindedness, listening, and love is all you need.

It takes time. Rome wasn’t built in a day. And…a kick in the ass is not a requirement!

Leave a comment

Posted by on May 30, 2016 in Blog


Tags: , , , , ,

Open Letter to CEO Jeff Bezos: 5 Things Amazon Should Have Done in the Suicide Swag Saga

Open Letter to CEO Jeff Bezos: 5 Things Amazon Should Have Done in the Suicide Swag Saga

Keep Calm - AmazonDear Mr. Bezos:

Congratulations. You seem to have weathered the Twitter storm relatively unscathed. Or so I assume, since we haven’t heard a peep from you.

You know what I’m talking about. The recent ruckus raised by the mental health Twitterati over shirts and other swag inciting suicide — or otherwise making light of very serious mental illnesses, such as anorexia and bulimia — being sold via your Amazon platform.

One would think “Keep Calm and Kill Yourself”, “Suicide Watch” and “got suicide?” are hardly the labels you’d want attached to your baby, the Amazon brand. Yet your silence persists.

I fully realize Amazon is, for all intents and purposes, a virtual shopping mall. You own the mall, but can’t be expected to know the full inventory of items on offer by the Mom-and-Pop shop tucked behind the escalators, between the washrooms and the food court. But you can do – and should have done – so much more.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m thankful that Amazon appears to have pulled most of the harmful merchandise from its online offering. Until they pop up again. And you know they will.

Here’s some advice on how you should have handled the matter – and how you may still yet do so. Not to save face. Not because it may or may not impact Amazon’s bottom line. But because it’s the right thing do:

  1. Get in front of the issue. Make a public statement on the matter, apologize to survivors of suicide loss and mental illness sufferers, and announce an immediate audit of the merchandise carried on Amazon with a view to identify products harmful to mental health.
  2. Reach out to national mental health organizations and lived experience advocates. Invite them to be part of the solution in identifying these harmful products, both during your audit and on an ongoing basis.
  3. Amend as needed Amazon’s Terms and Conditions. Make it painstakingly clear that Amazon will not stand for merchandise that promotes suicide, self-harm or in any way stigmatizes people living with mental illness. Back it up with penalties to show you mean business.
  4. Develop a monitoring and reporting system. Harmful products need to be identified and taken down from Amazon within 24 hrs. If you can ship and deliver items within this time frame, you can find a solution to removing harmful products within the same service standards. Drones not required.
  5. Play a leadership role in reducing mental illness stigma. Before we know it, Halloween will be right around the corner, which brings with it a plethora of costumes and decorations that stigmatize mental illness. Your voice in the retail industry matters, and would make a significant difference in tackling these issues.

One in five of Amazon’s customers will face a mental health issue or illness this year. Up to one-half over the course of their lifetime. We don’t expect perfection, but we do expect and deserve better.

Will you deliver better, Mr. Bezos? Or are mental health advocates expected to continue playing whack-a-mole every time harmful products rear their ugly heads on Amazon?

Here’s to hoping you’ll one day soon add the title “Stigma Fighter” to your business card.

Leave a comment

Posted by on January 18, 2016 in Blog


Tags: , , ,

%d bloggers like this: