A hopeful letter to my future child on Bell Let’s Talk day

Dear future child,

Today is the 9th annual Bell Let’s Talk Day.

It was a day created by communications and media conglomerate Bell to start a conversation around mental health in Canada. For every long distance phone call (people used to make phone calls), text, Tweet, or Facebook share, Bell would donate 5 cents to mental health initiatives.

Over the years, a total of $93.4 million has been raised.

I am thankful that you won’t know about this day, simply because that means we will no longer need it.

But before you were born, I spent a great deal of my time and energy advocating for better mental health care. For the care we will have in your lifetime. It will have taken us a long time to get there.

You see, we have a two-tier health care system when it comes to mental health. Those who can afford treatment receive it, while many who can’t are forced to wait. And wait.

And then wait some more.

In some parts of our province, wait times are as long as 18 months. Imagine walking around with a broken leg for 18 months; we would have to imagine it because it doesn’t happen. We fix up those broken limbs quick as we can, and a bill is never seen.

And yet, we (as a society, as governments) accept that our citizens – our neighbours, our friends, our coworkers, our family members – walk around with broken brains.

Broken spirits. Broken hearts.

I didn’t think that was right, and my love, you must always, always stand up for what you believe to be right.

Children as young as you are dying. Mental illness is their cause of death. As another Let’s Talk day arrives on the calendar, we talk. The nation is abuzz with stigma-smashing hashtags and statuses; a rally cry of support is trending across the country.

And that is awesome – please don’t get me wrong. Every amount of awareness, every ounce of education, every dollar raised is priceless. That matters. What Bell has helped fund over the years has undoubtedly changed lives, and saved lives. That should never be diminished. Ever.

When I speak of what we don’t have, I do not mean to take away from what we do have.

But what we do have is not enough.

Talk is not enough. Not anymore.

Talking hasn’t given Canada a National Suicide Prevention Plan, something all other G7 countries already have.

Talking is not cutting down on wait times for psychosis intervention clinics.

Talking is not covering the costs of psychotherapy or psychology.

Talking is not providing treatment for those suffering from addiction.

Talking is not updating our curriculum to include mental health and illness education.

Talking is not increasing the number of beds available in our hospitals.

Talking is not helping people pay for medication.

Talking is not ensuring timely access to appropriate care in First Nations, Inuit and Métis communities.

Talking is not accepting, or understanding, the devastating effects of traumatic brain injuries.

Talking is not providing veterans with the care they so deservedly require.

Talking is not implementing proper training and peer support programs in workplaces.

Talking isn’t including psychotherapy under workplace benefits.

Talking is not putting a stop to the terrifying nightmares caused by Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Talking doesn’t pay for service dogs.

Talking is not preventing suicide attempt survivors from being released hours after admittance, nor is it providing them with any follow up care within months of their visit to the ER.

Talking isn’t providing access to mood and anxiety programs in less than 350 days.

Talking hasn’t changed us from reactionary to preventative.

I could go on, but I think you get the idea.

Talking has done a lot of good, certainly, we must remember that; it has increased awareness, helped to educate and create understanding. And it must be acknowledged that the millions raised by Bell have gone towards helping people who face some of the challenges and roadblocks I mentioned above.

But there are things that talking simply cannot fix.

And as country that boasts from high atop its pedestal of a universal healthcare system, we cannot rely on corporations like Bell to foot the bill and make the changes – to heal and to save the lives.

That’s on us. On the governments, both federal, provincial, and even municipal.

It’s time for real change. Real action on a system that does not work, that leaves thousands of Canadians at risk, out in the cold, suffering, sick, and dying.

Until that change comes, some of us will continue talking. We’ll talk long after this day is done, and we’ll still be talking when midnight arrives on the east coast on BLTD next year.

Others won’t. The hashtag will be put away for another 12 months, a new topic will trend. The fad will fade into the background of most peoples’ lives, they’ll take off their bright blue Bell-emoji laden hats. While others will continue to wait, will remain untreated, and continue to die preventable deaths.

It’s time that our politicians start walking the walk, not just talking the talk. It’s time they put their money where their tweets are. It’s time to stop slamming proverbial doors in peoples’ faces after they’ve been encouraged to do all this talking.

Because the talking is happening, people are reaching out, and too often they find there’s no one there to listen.

It’s time to start listening. It’s time for more than hashtags. Time for empathy and support more days of the year. Time for fewer photo ops and more funded treatment options.

It’s time to move from awareness to action, so that when the day comes for you to read this, you will gasp in disbelief and astonishment. It will seem unimaginable to you that any country would sit by and watch its own citizens, its own children, suffer.

How I hope that you will never experience any great tragedy or trauma, that you will never make acquaintance with mental illness – not like I have. I hope that you will never know the agony of waiting for help, and should you ever need help, you get it.

I hope my efforts today, and every other day, along with those of my allies, friends, and colleagues, will have brought about change for you, and your friends, allies, and colleagues.

I hope it will be better. I hope lives will have been saved. I hope treatments are affordable, and accessible to all. I hope there’s more understanding, and less stigma.

I hope Bell Let’s Talk lit a fire that ignited a movement that resulted in no longer needing Bell Let’s Talk at all.

I hope we can talk about that.

Love,

Mom.