The SANE Blog

High school was a struggle… the noisy classrooms, the social expectations, the endless demands. When I first started skipping school and flunking out of class it was put down to my early diagnosis of bipolar at 14 and the trauma I had experienced from a young age.

My undergraduate degree was similar, and I found it really difficult to be in class; the noise, the social expectations, the endless demands. 

It wasn’t until I started learning about the lived experience of autism that I started to explore whether that’s what was going on for me too. I related a lot to most aspects, but particularly sensory difficulties, the need for routine and having difficulty knowing what to do in social situations. 

After years of unsuccessful therapy, I took myself to a new psychologist. This time to do a comprehensive assessment. I learnt that while I do have bipolar and complex post-traumatic stress disorder, I also have autism and ADHD. 

I learnt about how I was overstimulated in the classroom, I learnt about how high-masking I had been and how much social interaction took out of me, and I learnt about executive functioning and how trying to manage the endless demands were impacted by my neurodivergence. 

Mindy, a Veteran with PTSD doing Jiujitsu.

Mindy Mackay had a successful career as an Electronic Warfare Operator with the Australian Army when traumatic work experiences left her struggling to function. Whilst doing rehab, Mindy discovered a love for jiujitsu that helped her rebuild her life.

I spent six and a half years in the Australian Defence Force and was not in a good place when I medically discharged. I’m so happy to say that today, I’ve almost completed my healing process and I’m living a great life in Queensland with my teenage son.

Like many people who join the military, I didn’t have a great family life growing up so I was looking for a career with structure, where I could defend my country and community.

I joined the Australian Army in 2003 as an Electronic Warfare Operator in Signals Corps. I really enjoyed the work and the opportunities it gave me. In 2008, I was selected to travel to the Middle East to undertake specialist training to enhance my Arabic linguist skills.

I have to be honest and say that trip was a huge culture shock for me. Women were treated very differently in the area where I was based and without going into too much detail, I found out the hard way that I needed to be hypervigilant to what was going on around me for my own safety.

My daughter was born on a golden Brisbane winter morning. The pregnancy with this first baby had been uneventful. I was well informed and idealistic.

She arrived squalling and sizeable on her due date, after 33 hours of labour by caesarean after my cervix had swelled shut. My relief over her safe arrival was soon swamped by exhaustion and I fell asleep as I was being sutured up.

For the next 4 days in hospital, I slept only an hour or two a day. By day five, when I was due to be discharged, I couldn’t stop crying and had begun to stutter.

I got lucky. My midwife was switched on. She said: ‘You have more going on than the baby blues.’  Relief that what I was experiencing was not normal was replaced by terror when the obstetrician recommended I be admitted to the mother baby unit (mbu) of a private psychiatric hospital half an hour away.

I had no history of mental illness, and this was not how I had envisaged our going home day.

“Having a bipolar episode, is different, in every decade of your life.”  

This is what the psychiatrist told me, when I confessed I was having an affair, had changed my career to being a Landscape Gardener, was organising my divorce, plus a move out of the home my kids and I had lived in with my ex-husband. “Really?” I said. “I thought I was just having a mid-life crisis while being medicated successfully for bipolar disorder?”  

“No”, he said, “you are having an episode in your 40s and you have a lot more resources and a much more complex presentation than you had during the onset episode in your 20s when you were manically working in a nightclub, squatting in a commercial building and flunking courses in your university degree.” “Oh”, I said. Then just to add a little bit of witty repartee to the conversation, he added, “You are taking ‘bush’ regeneration to a whole new level.” I breathed, a sigh, at this point, because of all the bipolar episodes suddenly flashing through my memory, this one was going to be the most life changing.  

When now in my 50s, I look back, seeing there are intergenerational mental health symptoms in my family. My maternal grandfather was hospitalised in the 1930s with depression. This is the first documented mental health episode in my family. Then the line runs to me, then from me to my sons. A predisposition for bipolar disorder definitely runs in my family. Unlike earlier generations, though, my sons and I talk about our mental health with each other. They know the signs; they know the ‘pack drill’ and they have all visited me in a psychiatric ward. My children have grown up with the understanding that a psychiatrist is as essential as a good GP.  

Yet, for all of our joint knowledge and lived experience, this has not prevented us from having mental health episodes – it just helps us navigate therapy when we need a psychologist, or which medications work in our family, and the way we make sure that we are there for each other with maybe a little less stigma. ‘Untreated’ mental health episodes are rare in our family. We are more likely to think that maybe it’s ‘mental’ rather than ‘physical’. 

As we step into a new year, many of us take the time to reflect on the past and think about how we can create positive change in our lives. For those on a mental health recovery journey, the new year can be an ideal moment to set meaningful goals and establish habits that nurture wellbeing.

However, the pressure to make big, sweeping resolutions can feel overwhelming. It's important to remember that everyone’s recovery journey is different, and resolutions don’t have to be about reaching ‘full recovery’ or aiming for the impossible - they’re about taking small, positive steps along the way.

As highlighted in my article last year on Adapting to the New Year and Managing the Mental Load, adjusting your expectations and focusing on small, realistic steps can help lighten the mental burden.

Importance of Setting Recovery Goals

Setting goals is an empowering process. Whether big or small, goals provide direction, a sense of accomplishment, and improve overall wellbeing. Recovery from mental health challenges is rarely a linear journey, and the path will look different for everyone. What’s critical is that each person sets goals that are relevant to their own needs, progress, and state of mind.

Recovery goals aren’t about a distant, often unrealistic vision of achieving a “cure.” They’re about setting practical steps that move you forward in a sustainable way, focusing on your strengths to create a satisfying and fulfilling life. Some days, the goal might be getting out of bed and getting dressed, while on other days, you might aim to take a walk around the block or engage in a social activity. Every small victory counts.

Every day, more than one million Australians live with a psychosocial disability - a term that refers to the impact of a complex mental health condition on a person’s capacity to function in daily life.

However, a recent national report from the Department of Health and Aged Care highlighted a troubling issue. Nearly 500,000 Australians are missing out on the critical benefits of psychosocial support. This gap exists largely because the National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS) which is designed to provide these supports, often makes it difficult for people with psychosocial disabilities to access the scheme.

December 3 is a timely occasion to acknowledge this issue in view of International Day of People with Disability. This post explores what psychosocial disability is, how psychosocial support can help, barriers to accessing the NDIS, and how innovative digital psychosocial support services like those offered by SANE can assist in bridging the gap.

What is Psychosocial Disability?

Psychosocial disability refers to the functional challenges that people experience due to a complex mental health condition. These conditions include:

• Schizophrenia
• Bipolar disorder
• Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)
• Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD)
• Severe anxiety or depression
• Other mental health conditions that significantly impair daily functioning

Psychosocial disability can affect various aspects of life which include:

Homelessness can happen to anyone, and for dean, it was a journey that tested his resilience and strength.

Every year on March 30, World Bipolar Day is observed to raise awareness about Bipolar Disorder and to eliminate stigma surrounding this complex mental health condition. It's a day to educate, support, and advocate for those living with Bipolar Disorder, as well as their loved ones. This blog post delves into a general overview of what Bipolar Disorder is, how to differentiate between its subtypes, signs to watch for, common misconceptions, treatment options, and resources for support and management. 

International Women's Day is celebrated on 8 March, highlighting the achievements and hurdles faced by women across the globe. A critical aspect of any challenges is mental health, influenced by the distinct biological, social, and emotional shifts that women navigate through various stages of life. This post delves into these stages, the mental health issues they may entail, signs to watch for, and strategies and resources for support and management.

The festive season is often portrayed as a time of joy, togetherness, and merriment. It's a time when families come together to celebrate, share traditions, and create cherished memories. 

However, for individuals impacted by complex mental health issues and their caregivers, the season can bring a unique set of challenges. These are discussed, with strategies on how to manage them.