Showing posts with label mental health public speaking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mental health public speaking. Show all posts

Thursday, April 30, 2026

Why Lived Experience Matters in Social Work Education

 

Why Lived Experience Matters in Social Work Education

As I waited for the University of Toronto Master’s of Social Work (MSW) students to settle into the classroom, I could feel my nervousness rising. These young people are the future of social work, and I was a woman who had lived through psychosis, invited to offer something no textbook could provide. My role was simple in theory: share my lived experience of mental illness, offer insight into one of its most complex realities, and leave a lasting impact as they prepared to support clients experiencing psychosis firsthand. Simple, right?

Yet as I listened to the professor’s lecture on psychosis, stigma reduction, medication side effects, and intervention strategies, the full weight of my experience returned. How could I capture what it truly means to live through psychosis in such a short time? How could I help them understand that people navigating this form of mental illness are still whole, still human, and deserving of dignity, patience, and compassionate care?

Through my work with the University of Toronto’s Factor-Inwentash Faculty of Social Work, alongside social workers and lived experience advisors, I contributed to a Psychosis Simulation Project. Our goal was to bring lived experience into social work education. The initial result was an educational video that bridges clinical knowledge with human reality, highlighting both practitioner perspectives and the voices of those who have experienced psychosis and returned to wellness.

This blog explores why lived experience must be part of social work education. Psychosis cannot be understood solely through clinical language or diagnostic criteria. It must be understood through the lives of real people who live, work, love, and heal beyond their diagnosis.

Humanizing Psychosis Beyond the Label

One of the most important messages I share is this: I am not psychosis. I am not my illness. I live a full and meaningful life.

For many MSW students, their early exposure to mental health is rooted in clinical settings. Clients appear as case files, diagnoses, or mental status exams. In those environments, people can become reduced to symptoms. Their humanity is often overshadowed by hallucinations, delusions and disorganized speech. 

What is often missing is the fuller picture. The person behind the diagnosis may be a mother, a sister, a student, an employee, or a friend. They have identities, relationships, and aspirations that exist far beyond their mental illness.

Sharing my lived experience challenges this narrow lens. It reminds future social workers to see the person first and the diagnosis second. Hearing directly from someone who has experienced psychosis and built emotional stability, structure, and routine in recovery helps reduce stigma and deepen empathy. It brings forward dignity, identity, and the complexity that defines each individual life.

Stages of Psychosis: What to Expect Before, During, and After

Individuals experiencing psychosis often move through distinct stages, each with its own challenges and needs. Understanding these phases is essential for effective mental health support and long-term healing.

Before Psychosis

In the early stage, symptoms such as paranoia, delusions, and hallucinations may begin to surface. Many individuals are still living in the community, often without a strong support system or awareness of what is happening.

In these situations, crisis intervention may occur, sometimes involving police wellness checks. While intended for safety, these interventions can feel deeply distressing and, in some cases, harmful.

For social workers, this stage highlights the importance of early, compassionate intervention. Consistent check-ins, emotional support, and trust-building can make a meaningful difference. Care should not begin only after the crisis peaks. It must start as early as possible.

During Psychosis

During psychosis, individuals are not grounded in shared reality. Their thoughts, emotions, and behaviours may become intense, disorganized, or unrecognizable. Emotional responses can feel overwhelming, often described as a form of emotional hijacking, where the brain’s fear response overrides rational thinking.

It is important to understand that behaviours during this phase are symptoms of mental illness, not reflections of character.

Social workers must respond with steadiness, empathy, and a willingness to look beyond the moment. Supporting both the individual and their support system helps create a foundation of safety and understanding. This foundation becomes critical when the person begins to return to baseline.

After Psychosis

The period after psychosis is just as important as the crisis itself. Recovery does not end when symptoms fade. In many ways, this is where the deeper work of healing begins.

Supporting individuals in rebuilding structure, routine, and stability is essential. This may include sleep regulation, medication management, and reconnecting with daily life.

Social workers play a key role in this phase. They become a steady point of reference as individuals reintegrate into their lives. Care must remain continuous, grounded in patience, empathy, and non-judgment. True recovery is not a single moment but an ongoing process of rebuilding and growth.

Medication Management: Nuance and Non-Compliance

Discussing medication in mental health care is rarely straightforward. My own experience reflects this complexity. There have been times when I resisted medication and times when I recognized its value in supporting my stability and recovery.

For many individuals, hesitation around medication is rooted in real concerns. Side effects from antipsychotics and mood stabilizers can include emotional numbness, fatigue, and significant weight gain. These changes can impact identity, self-esteem, and overall well-being, especially for women navigating mental health and body image.

There is also the reality of forced treatment during acute episodes, when individuals may not have the capacity to advocate for themselves. This can create lasting distrust toward medical systems.

For social workers, advocacy is essential. This means asking thoughtful questions, listening without judgment, and helping bridge communication between clients and psychiatric teams. Medication management should be approached with empathy, collaboration, and respect for the client’s lived experience.

Lived Experience Reflection: The Social Worker Who Helped Me Trust

In 2016, during a severe episode of psychosis, I was hospitalized at St. Michael’s Hospital in Toronto following a traumatic wellness call. What followed was a period marked by isolation, restraints, medication challenges, and a deep mistrust of the system. At the same time, I was experiencing homelessness.

It was during this time that I met Tarak, the social worker who would change the course of my recovery.

Our early interactions were difficult. I was fearful, reactive, and guarded. I pushed him away with anger and mistrust. Yet he remained consistent. He showed up daily, calm and present, even when I tried to drive him away.

What I did not realize at the time was that he was listening, not just to my words but to the pain beneath them. He recognized my trauma, my fear, and my desire to heal, even when I could not express it clearly.

At one point, he made me a simple offer. Give him a month. If I was not satisfied, he would step aside. That consistency, paired with empathy, allowed me to take a chance on trust.

Tarak supported me in finding housing, rebuilding structure, and reconnecting with life. He sat with me through small moments that became significant turning points. Over time, he became more than a social worker. He became a steady presence in my healing journey.

He saw beyond my Bipolar disorder and psychosis. He saw possibility. He helped me reconnect with my sense of self, my creativity, and my potential. That belief changed everything.

Final Thoughts

Speaking with MSW students was deeply meaningful. It felt like an opportunity to shift how future social workers understand mental health, not just as a clinical field but as a human experience.

Lived experience brings depth that textbooks cannot offer. It adds context, emotion, and reality to the study of mental illness. It reminds us that behind every diagnosis is a person with a full life, not defined by their most difficult moments.

Psychosis is part of the story, but it is never the whole story. Healing, growth, and emotional stability are possible. And when social workers are trained to see the whole person, not just the symptoms, they become far more effective in supporting lasting recovery.


Thursday, April 9, 2026

From Patient to Panelist: A Reflection After the 2026 SPA Convention (The Society for Personality Assessment)

From Patient to Panelist: A Reflection After the 2026 SPA Convention
(The Society for Personality Assessment)

 From Patient to Panelist: Entering the Room

As I walked through the doors of the Sheraton Centre Toronto Hotel for the 2026 SPA Convention, I felt a quiet anticipation for what the morning would bring. I had been invited to join the LEAF Deep Dive Panel only days before, yet even as a late addition I knew I was meant to be there.

The panel focused on psychiatric assessments. It explored what it means to seek assessment, move through the process, and live with the outcome of a diagnosis.

After more than twenty years as a patient within the mental health system, I had experienced assessment, reassessment, diagnosis, and misdiagnosis. My voice had echoed through psychiatric units across Ontario. Now, as I entered the Huron Room, I stepped into a space that patients rarely access.

I carried both apprehension and purpose. I was determined to share my lived experience with clinicians, researchers, educators, and thought leaders responsible for shaping the very systems that had shaped my life. I wanted to know whether lived experience truly belonged in professional spaces.

This blog reflects on that experience. It explores what it means to move from patient to panelist, and the impact of being invited into rooms where mental health systems are discussed, evaluated, and reimagined.


Surrounded by Leaders Shaping the Mental Health System

The energy in the Huron Room was thoughtful and uncertain. There was a quiet divide between healthcare professionals and lived experience panelists. We were all there for the same reason, yet there was a sense of curiosity about what would be said and whether it would lead to meaningful change.

As each panelist shared their story, a common message emerged. The mental health system must do better when it comes to psychiatric assessments. For many of us, including myself, the assessment process shaped the course of our lives. Diagnoses determined treatment plans, medication, and long-term mental health management.

We emphasized that assessments are the first line of defence in mental health care. When done incorrectly, patients carry the consequences through misdiagnosis, ineffective treatment, and prolonged suffering.

Looking out at the audience, I could see the shift. What once may have felt routine or procedural began to take on weight. Assessments were no longer checklists. They became human experiences with lasting impact.


From Subject of Assessment to Contributor to the Conversation

After years of psychiatric assessments that often led to hospitalization, I felt a deep sense of pride standing in front of that room. For the first time, my experience was not being documented. It was being heard.

My lived experience was no longer data for observation. It became insight for change.

Moving from subject to contributor was a powerful shift. I felt seen not as a diagnosis or case history, but as a person with knowledge, perspective, and something meaningful to offer. My journey, with all its complexity, had purpose beyond survival.


Entering the Rooms: A Panelist’s Reflection on a Rare Experience

Being invited into a professional conference space like this is rare for someone with lived experience. These are rooms typically reserved for clinicians, researchers, and decision makers.

I never imagined that my mental health journey would lead me from being assessed to participating in conversations about how assessments should be done.

That access felt like a gift. What was once a system I struggled to navigate became something I could begin to understand. The walls that once felt impossible to cross were no longer barriers.

After more than fourteen psychiatric assessments, multiple hospitalizations, and experiences of restraint and isolation, standing in that room felt transformative. My voice, once confined to clinical settings, was now part of a broader conversation.

Sharing my story allowed it to become something larger than myself. It became part of a collective understanding that could shape future care.


Unrestrained: The Emotional Impact of Being Seen

During the panel, I was asked to speak about my personal experience with psychiatric assessments.

My response was honest and deeply emotional.

I shared how most of my assessments occurred under duress. They often began with a wellness check by police, followed by apprehension, transport to hospital, and placement under observation. I described the isolation, the restraints, and the lack of autonomy that defined those experiences.

For the first time, I spoke openly about what that process felt like. Not as a clinical case, but as a human experience.

As I spoke, I felt something shift. I felt unrestrained. I was no longer being observed. I was being heard.

The tears that followed were not just about pain. They were about release. They were about finally being seen.


The Impact of Psychiatric Assessments: A Message to SPA Professionals

After years of assessments and over two decades of living with mental illness, I was still misdiagnosed for much of that time. That reality points to a larger issue within the system.

It was not until my residency at Ontario Shores Centre for Mental Health Sciences that I received what I believe to be a more accurate diagnosis. Even then, communication remained a challenge. I discovered my diagnosis through medical records rather than direct conversation.

This highlights a critical gap in mental health care. There is often a disconnect between clinicians and patients. Clinicians focus on diagnostic criteria, while patients seek understanding, clarity, and tools for living.

Resources like the DSM 5 provide diagnostic frameworks but offer little guidance on how to live with a diagnosis. Patients are left to build their own systems of care through trial, error, and personal resilience.

For me, that system includes self-advocacy, therapy, medication management, sleep hygiene, nutrition, exercise, and self-care practices such as journaling and reflection.

When patients leave the hospital, they are often given minimal guidance. Yet they are expected to navigate a complex mental health system on their own.

Diagnosis is only the beginning. It is not the end of the journey.


Final Thoughts

How Understanding Can Lead to Change: A New Sense of Possibility

After the panel ended, clinicians and attendees approached me with gratitude, curiosity, and a desire to stay connected. Some did not know what to say beyond thank you. Others expressed how impactful it was to hear lived experience directly.

One psychiatry student shared that my voice brought awareness into spaces where it is often missing.

That moment stayed with me.

Being in that room was not just about visibility. It was about contribution, connection, and reclaiming a voice in spaces that shape real lives.

My hope is that experiences like this create more opportunities for lived experience voices to be included in mental health conversations. These voices have the power to move us beyond stigma and toward meaningful change.

Being in the room did not erase my past. But it changed what felt possible for my future.