I ONCE BELIEVED mental illness was reserved for a ‘certain’ type of person – not me. I thought bipolar and schizophrenia were the worst types of mental illness you could get. I believed people with these conditions all had a family history of it, were from abusive backgrounds, or misused drugs and alcohol.

I have over 30 years experience in the media and entertainment industry as a music artist, TV and radio presenter, producer, live host and public speaker. I was one third of girl band Kleshay. We got signed to Sony Music, got two UK chart singles and were the supporting act for Lionel Richie on a successful arena tour. To me, mental ill health was foreign. It was not a world I mixed in, or one that I was used to.

When I previously thought of bipolar disorder, I thought of the individuals I’d seen talking to themselves on the street or I thought of what the media told me. I believed the men in white coats would eventually take bipolar away to psychiatric hospitals because they were dangerous.

So the last thing in the world I could ever imagine was being diagnosed with bipolar disorder myself. I was mortified. I believed my diagnosis would somehow change me into an evil and horrible person. I thought I’d end up sectioned in hospital. 

Those myths were based on stigma. But at one point, I believed them about bipolar and mental health. Now I know those myths could not be further from the truth. Mental illnesses like bipolar are layered. Quite frankly, they can affect anyone.

The black community have a long history of stigma surrounding mental health. There is sometimes a denial that poor mental health exists. Those who struggle with poor mental health are sometimes shunned. We have not always coped with the challenges of mental illness in the best way.

This problem is exacerbated by the feeling that organisations set up to assist people with poor mental health do not look after our interests, and are not geared towards us.

A pressing problem

Statistics around mental health are not encouraging either. Detention rates under the Mental Health Act during 2017 to 2018 were four times higher for people in the black or black British group than those in the white group. In addition, the psychosis risk of black Caribbean groups was estimated to be nearly seven times higher than in the white population. 

Given how pressing our needs for care and support are, we need to urgently look at how we deal with mental health issues.

I was first misdiagnosed with depression many years ago, and began taking antidepressants. After a few years, I noticed a massive shift in my behaviour. I’d become super anxious and impulsive with manic behaviour. I’d go from being suicidally low to euphorically high. My family and friends just thought I was moody, and it was part of my personality. It was confusing because I was the life and soul of the party but I could easily become irritable and lash out with my words.

I was diagnosed correctly with bipolar eight years ago and it’s been the hardest journey. However, I’m happy to say that with the correct diagnosis, medication and therapy, I got the help I desperately needed and deserved. 

Although I am still learning to fully understand my condition, I kept my diagnosis a secret because of what others would think. I was embarrassed and fearful. I also thought it would affect my career and work prospects. That was another myth.

Speaking her truth

Last year, for the first time, I spoke publicly about living with bipolar on my social media profile. It’s been the most liberating thing I’ve done throughout my entire rehabilitation so far. 

Since learning to accept my mental illness and speaking boldly about it, I feel empowered and free. Hiding due to my embarrassment was such a heavy burden to carry. Now that I’m able to speak openly, I feel a sense of purpose. It is helping my recovery own recovery, but by being visible, I help others like me to speak out too.

Normalising conversations around mental health helps tackle stigma. It helps us all develop the maturity we need to speak about this properly. More importantly, it means we can help each other by signposting what support is available.

For example, I am now an ambassador for Bipolar UK. Before this, I hadn’t heard of them in great detail. Their advice, help and support is available for free online – but it is not widely by black communities.

Stigma can block people from getting the help that they need. However, if we make it clear that it’s ok not to be ok, and it’s fine to get help when you need it – we can help break stigma down.

We’ll be speaking about this, and other things at our free online conference.

In a strange way, I feel proud to be bipolar. Despite the ups and downs, it’s possible to live successfully with the condition. There is life after diagnosis. However, to prepare for that future, we need to learn from the stigma I hope becomes a thing of the past.

Leah Charles-King has more that 30 years media experience. After starting out in girl band Kleshay, she has gone on to have success as a television and radio presenter. She also coaches others to help them become better public speakers.