liking mindfulness parents

We need to talk about racism and mental health.

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I have only one memory of the first five years of my childhood. It was a sunny day, and I was in the park with my parents and maternal grandparents.

I was playing, and my mum seemed sad and withdrawn. She was in a blue dressing gown and slippers. It wasn’t until much later in life I learned this memory was when my mum was in a mental health institution receiving electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) for clinical depression.As well as this being my first childhood memory, it’s also the first memory I have of my mum experiencing depression and anxiety.

Growing up at a time when there was a lack of understanding and empathy about poor mental health, and also a lack of proficient culturally competent care, meant that there was little support for my mother.

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