Head First

We think of first aid for boo-boos and broken bones, but never brains. That’s all changing, and writer Bonnie Schiedel took the course to prove it. Here’s her account of a crash course in mental wellness.

- Bonnie Schiedel

LIKE MANY THINGS THESE DAYS, IT BEGAN ON my social media feed: a colleague posting a heartfelt account of her postpartum depression, a neighbour mentioning an ill-timed anxiety attack, a friend talking about her daughter’s schizophrenia symptoms. It’s pretty incredible – and encouraging – to see how we’re all getting a little more comfortable talking about our own mental health.

After all, one in five Canadians will experience a mental health problem in any given year, according to the Canadian Mental Health Association (CMHA). Still, for a lot of us, it’s easier to offer support when it’s one step removed online rather than face to face. I really had no idea what I would say or do if someone I was with had, say, an anxiety attack or was really struggling with post-holiday depression. I wondered if I’d freeze up or say the wrong thing.

I didn’t like feeling clueless, so when I saw a Facebook post about a mental health first-aid course being offered in my city, I thought, Hell, yes! I signed up and, a few weeks later, headed to a hotel conference room with 22 other people to learn how to become a mental health first aider during a two-day, 12-hour course.

Mental health first-aid programs have been around since 2000, when an Australian couple – Betty Kitchener, a nurse who has coped with depression throughout her life, and Anthony Jorm, a psychology professor and researcher – were out walking their dog together and had a light bulb moment to create a course. A lot of other people thought it was a good idea, too: About two million people worldwide have now taken the course they developed. (Lady Gaga even offered free or subsidized training in cities on her last tour.)