Being Mindful of Women's Mental Health
I recently read an article in The Guardian about a woman called Mary Heaton, who in 1837 was committed to a lunatic asylum in Northern England for challenging a certain vicar in church because he had failed to pay her for the music lessons she had given his daughter. The 36-year-old was judged in court (by three men) to be “a lunatic insane and dangerous idiot” and spent the remaining 41 years of her life in the West Riding Pauper Lunatic Asylum in Wakefield where she was subjected to years of cruel and ineffective “treatments” that included electric shocks and the ingestion of mercury. By simply fighting for what she deserved, this young woman unintentionally waived her right to a decent life. Right-minded women didn’t stand a chance in the 19th century, let alone those who may actually have suffered from mental health problems.
This article caught my interest because I’ve been thinking a lot about mental health over the past few weeks as we near the end of a year marked by personal and professional losses, for me and for many others. Mary Heaton’s real crime, of course, was not lunacy or insanity, it was speaking out and challenging male authority as an unmarried woman. She didn’t conform to patriarchal norms and so she had to be silenced lest others follow her lead. Mary’s conviction came early on in the Victorian period, an era when, as the late literary scholar of Victorian studies Richard Atlick put it, “A woman was inferior to a man in all ways...Her place was in the home...and emphatically not in the world of affairs.” Heaton was a transgressive figure by virtue of the fact that she had not married or given birth to children. She was bold enough to challenge a man, and a “man of God”, about money, something women didn’t dirty their hands with, or at least weren’t seen to, in the early 19th-century; their lives were lived firmly in the domestic realm. Had she enjoyed the “protection” of a husband (and this is what men provided back then; a shield against marginalisation and victimisation), her story would have ended very differently.
Had I been born 150 years ago, I would certainly have been classified as a raving lunatic, not only because I am not married and don’t have children, but also because I do, in fact – right now – have fragile mental health, unlike poor Mary Heaton who sounds to me like she was as robust as the next man. Despite good news reports about the American presidential election and a coronavirus vaccine, I feel despondent. I’m finding it difficult not to focus on the fact that Christmas will be different this year, and I fear that January will feel bleaker than an episode of Black Mirror. Nonetheless, this Guardian article crystallised the fact that as women today (in Ireland, certainly), we’re so incredibly fortunate not just to live and work as we please, but to be free to admit when we’re not feeling well, when our mental health is of concern, without running the risk of being judged and castigated.
Having said that, we do still shift uncomfortably around the issue of mental health, don’t we? I’ve just read back over my last paragraph and I’m wondering why I felt the need to qualify the revelation about my fragility with the words “right now”. It’s because deep down I’m worried you will think I’m crazy and unhinged if I don’t clarify my vulnerability as something fleeting and passing, a temporary glitch, a transitory state.
Centuries of stigmatising women as hysterics, witches and angry bitches don’t disappear without leaving some emotional mark behind them.
If I had been unfortunate enough to have lived centuries before my time, my sanity would have been questioned irrespective of my mood or behaviour simply because I hadn’t fulfilled the womanly duty of motherhood. It was once thought that a woman’s uterus wandered around her body, causing melancholy and hysteria. The word hysteria, in fact, comes from the Greek word for uterus. The most highly recommended treatment was – yes, you’ve guessed it – marriage, sex and babies, in that order. Convenient eh, for a patriarchal society, which thrived on limiting women’s options? Thankfully, today, I have an incredible doctor who understands that mental health is fragile because life slings mud at us, and sometimes it sticks and is near impossible to shake off without help. She’s taught me that this help can come in a myriad of forms (none of which include marriage and procreation), from exercise and counselling to medication and mindfulness. I’ve explored all of these options, among others, and have found that, for me, none work in isolation, but a carefully judged cocktail containing a measure of each can be transformative.
I guess in the same way that we lose gains from exercise as our bodies become used to it, our mental health regime sometimes needs a shakeup. That’s where I’m at now – I’m trying out a new cocktail – and it’s challenging, especially when there’s little distraction to take my mind off my stresses outside of the new series of The Crown. Having said that, thank goodness for it because at the weekend I watched Piers Morgan’s Netflix series Killer Women… Suffice to say, it didn’t lighten my mood. But sometimes when we’re in the dark, all we want to do is sink deeper into it, which is okay for a time but dangerous in the longer term. Having a doctor for the past decade who knows, understands and respects me has been incredibly important to my long-term wellbeing. The continuity and quality of care she’s provided me with has left me feeling, even during those times when the light at the end of the tunnel appears blocked off, that everything will be okay.
If only women like Mary Heaton had had peers with the status and power to help them through tough times. Poor Mary eventually did lose her sanity. Who wouldn’t after years of physical abuse and false imprisonment in an asylum? She became docile and spent the remainder of her days embroidering. Interestingly, it wasn’t pretty cross-stitched flora and fauna she focused on, it was, in fact, references to her own tragic story. Her circumstances didn’t break her completely then. In fact, any form of creativity can help to unlock trauma and is vital to emotional health and wellbeing. According to an article in Medium.com, “Creative expression can be extremely healing for individuals as they regain a sense of control.” I think it’s time I added embroidery to that cocktail of sanity-saving solutions then.
Marie Kelly, November 2020.
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