It’s not okay

The past weekend has been lovely: a perfect time of friends and family and food and drink and getting Christmassy. I’m so thankful to be feeling better.

But one thing is not better, and I don’t know if it’s ever going to be better.

And that’s the stigma and discrimination that I’m still facing because of my illness.

No one would consider me a risk if I had diabetes or ME.

If I had a physical illness, I would be in charge of deciding when I felt well enough to get back to my usual routines, activities and duties – not someone else.

But because my illness is a brain illness, not a body illness, I’m fair game.

I was told I had to take time off to get better. But now I am better (please God), I’m still not allowed back.

So it wasn’t – as I was told – motivated by concern for my wellbeing, but by the perception that I’m a threat to the church, someone they want hidden away, active behind the scenes but not as a public face.

And no one will tell me when I’m allowed back, or what I have to do to be considered ‘safe’ again.

Will it be three months, six months, twelve, never? Has someone somewhere got a checklist of things I have to do to prove that I’m no longer a danger – not that I ever was?

I’ve looked into what the diocese says about safeguarding, as that’s apparently what’s behind the way I’m being treated. There’s nothing specifically about people with mental health problems being banned from church work. The policy says that if a person has caused harm to a member of the church community, they should have a formal risk assessment with timescales about when their ban would end. Does that mean they think I’m harmful just by my very presence?

Despite all the reassurances that I can keep coming to church activities ‘as a parent’ (but absolutely NOT as a part of the team), it’s easier said than done when I know my very presence is a complication. It makes me just want to stay away so no one has the inconvenience of messed-up me.

I feel guilty that I’m causing problems. I feel rejected by the church that has, until recently, felt like family. And I feel really angry that it’s okay for them to treat me like this purely because I have a mental illness – a mental illness that now seems to be under control.

It’s not okay to be discriminated against because of an illness that is not my fault and certainly not something I chose, or because of the consequences of that illness.

It’s not okay that while social services have been through my personal life with a fine toothed comb and decided that I don’t pose a risk to children, the church apparently knows better.

It’s not okay that I’m not a proper part of the church family any more. It’s not okay that on the one hand, I’m being told that there’s nothing I can do to make God love me less than he does, while on the other, it’s very clear that the church doesn’t love me one bit.

It’s not okay that I’m basically having to suck up treatment that, in a workplace, would be seen as outright discrimination, because what else can I do?

It’s not okay that my experience means my face doesn’t fit any more.

This is not depression speaking. This is not me seeing a situation in a negative light. This is not disordered thinking. This is how it feels to have been marginalised by the church purely because of my mental illness.

I’m sad. I’m hurt. I’m angry. I feel rejected and unwelcome and let down.

And it’s not okay.