The SANE Blog

Meg, a proud Aboriginal woman from Exmouth, Western Australia, is a 53-year-old mother of three adult children and has been married for 31 years. Diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 19 while serving in the Australian Army, Meg’s plans for a 20-year career were cut short by her diagnosis, which led to a medical discharge. Though the setback was “a real blow,” her “fighting spirit” kept her going. Over the years, she has struggled to maintain consistent employment, finding that work often triggered stress. Recently, she decided to focus on volunteering to stay active while managing her mental health. 

In May 2021, as part of her commitment to furthering her recovery, Meg discovered SANE during a search for mental health support services on Google. Intrigued by the potential of a digital peer community, she signed up to explore the SANE forums, an experience that would become a key part of her life and mental health journey. 

Discovering SANE: A new path to connection and support 

Meg initially found SANE’s forums and digital support a bit confusing to navigate, taking a few days to make her first post. However, she quickly adapted and was struck by the warmth and understanding within the SANE community. “It’s such a well-kept secret, and I was so excited to find it,” she recalls, describing her initial excitement. Through SANE’s peer support services, Meg began to feel a renewed sense of belonging. She now regularly participates in the forums, Recovery Club sessions, and webinars, including Indigenous and veterans’ hubs. “My experiences with SANE have been 99% positive, and overall, I have been extremely happy with the service,” she says. 

Impact on mental health and resilience 

Reflecting on her progress since joining SANE, Meg describes a profound shift in her mental health. “Over the past three years, my mental health has significantly improved. I am stronger, more resilient, more confident, and more willing to put myself out there.” The peer-led discussions and support groups have provided Meg with essential coping tools, including improved conflict management skills and an enhanced capacity for empathy. “I have more tools in my recovery toolbox,” she notes, especially around self-care and self-compassion. 

The digital platform’s structured discussions have also given Meg a new perspective on managing her bipolar disorder, helping her “handle conflict better in general” and making her more compassionate toward others’ struggles. She now approaches others with empathy, saying, “You just never know what is going on for another person in their life.” 

“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:

Peer Support played a key role in the early stages of my mental health recovery in a couple of ways. I was diagnosed with obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) at the age of 21, however, I never spoke to my family and friends about my symptoms. Apart from my psychiatrist, I didn’t talk about my OCD to anybody.

At the age of 29, I became increasingly depressed and was diagnosed with co-morbid Major Depressive Disorder (MDD), leading to a long period out of the workforce.

It was at this time I began connecting with others living with OCD via online forums and attending an in-person support group each fortnight. I also became part of the SANE Peer Ambassador program. Meeting people who lived with OCD and understood was not only very comforting, but it also validated my experiences.

Talking about my OCD with my peers gave me the confidence to discuss symptoms with my parents, friendship group and employer. This was the key step that helped my depression lift, and eventually I got back to work.

Peer support still plays a big part in helping to manage my OCD. It often works to complement/enhance ongoing professional treatment.

SANE supports Tuesday’s release from the National Suicide Prevention Office (NSPO) draft Advice on the National Suicide Prevention Strategy which proposes a fundamental change in the way we think and act on suicide prevention, highlighting the emphasis on accessible digital interventions, peer support and reduction in stigma.

For Jenny, managing mental health has been a journey marked by resilience, self-discovery, and the power of a strong support network. As we reflect on Women's Health Week, Jenny’s story offers valuable lessons on how building and nurturing connections can empower women to thrive despite the challenges they face.

As we mark Women’s Health Week, Lisa’s journey reminds us of the profound impact a strong support network can have on mental health. Lisa, a mother, advocate, and fierce supporter of mental health awareness, has faced immense challenges, yet she continues to thrive through the power of connection and community. 

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

I was proud to represent the SANE community at a special roundtable held at Parliament House yesterday to share our thoughts on the challenges currently experienced by individuals and carers with complex mental health needs.