I've been a strong advocate for ending mental illness stigma for the last 5 years, which was when I started studying to become a healthcare professional and I realized how rampant stigma still is. Unlike a lot of "activists" I actually put my money where my mouth was by volunteering with organizations and writing grants instead of just posting about my "mental health struggles!!! 11!1" on Tumblr. Eventually, though, my story did get out.

Not to brag, but it was a really inspirational story. Real tear jerker. Had all the best pieces; child sex abuse, rape, abuse, neglect, molestation, deprivation, increasingly severe self harm. The tale culminated in 8 hospitalizations for self harm and suicide attempts over 18 months. 

The whole narrative was true, but good God I want to shove all that back into my brain.

I do not regret writing grants and answering phone lines and marching in parades. I would do all that today in a heartbeat. What I regret is making the minutiae of my battle with mental illness a part of the public domain.

My future employers don't need to know about the time I took a full bottle of Klonopin and pounded 8 nails into my leg. Or the times I was committed involuntarily. Or the times I was forcibly sedated. None of that moved mental health rights forward, it was just masturbation material for the people lurking the suicide tag on Tumblr. Be smarter than me. Keep your story so that when you finally tell it, it has meaning. 

Instead, do actual work. Learn to write grants, get trained to answer suicide hotlines, go to fucking law school and make mental illness a protected class. IDGAF.