Not Mad, Not Bad
And Not All That Dangerous To Know

The name of this site (just in case it has escaped you) is MadNOTBad. I chose this name for a few different reasons - apart from satisfying my (ever so slightly dark) sense of humour, that is. One of the main ones is to poke fun at the world that labels us and (using its language) drive home the point that ‘being mad don’t make you bad’.

Experiencing mental health problems is tough enough without having to deal with the misconceptions and prejudices of other people. It isn’t that I necessarily blame them for it, perhaps they are scared and woefully uninformed. If I hadn’t been through all of this maybe I, too, would shy away from someone I knew to be ‘mentally ill’. I might even run away and hide under a table (I really hope I wouldn’t, but you never know how things might have turned out).

Fear is fine. We’re all afraid of the unknown and, with all the negative hype that surround diagnoses such as schizophrenia, it’s to be expected. The problem comes when we let our fears grow out of all proportion and take on a life of their own. Worries become whispers, whispers become barbed comments and they, in their turn morph into all out nastiness. The fact that people often cover up their uncertainty with the, not too clever, disguise of witty(?) put downs and general disrespect just makes things worse.

The answer? Education. Education. Education. (to quote an unnamed source). Oh, and some human compassion and general tolerance for differences wouldn’t go amiss either. Short of changing the world and making things a better place (damn, these cheesy lines just keep on coming), I’m settling for promoting the ‘okness’ of mental distress as much as I can. And so, to finish

Yes I have a diagnosis of Schizoaffective Disorder. Yes I am (apparently) mentally ill. Yes I am sometimes depressed. Yes I self-harm. Yes I have, and sometimes still do, hear voices in my head. Yes I have seen things that (I’m told) weren’t really there. Yes I have, in the past, tried to kill myself. Yes I have spent a lot of time in a psychiatric hospital.

I also am a person. I might well be sitting next to you in your local pub chatting about the charms of the latest draft ale. I spend the odd Saturday night in front of the TV (well, hiding behind a rather large cushion) with a good scary movie and some tasty ice cream. I live (thankfully). I breathe. I cry. I laugh (just don’t ask me to recite a joke ‘cause I can’t). I also have really suspect taste in hair accessories and have a strong fondness for sparkly things.

I am one person among millions,
and I’m no more mad, bad or dangerous to know than you are.

Rachel Waddingham © 2002