Many of my colleagues were stunned, I think, that a fellow academic could seem normal and yet have been so deeply disturbed. They had been unaware of my psychotic manias and suicidal depressions, and it seemed to stir up discomfort that madness could be so close at hand. For that reason, however, it also stirred up–in a good way, I hope–many private and public discussions about recognizing and treating impaired doctors and other professionals.

My colleagues, with a few disturbing exceptions, were remarkably kind and openhearted in what they said and did, and most of them strongly backed my decision to be public about my illness. The chairman of my department at Johns Hopkins was consistent in his view that my illness was a medical one and should be treated as such. He, as my chairman at UCLA had done before him, encouraged me to learn, write and teach from my experience. Being public about my manic-depression was seen by both of them as an extension of my teaching.

But talking openly about my illness brought out a darker side of human nature as well. I received scores of letters from those whose hatred of the mentally ill was almost unimaginably virulent. Many others made it palpably clear they thought the mentally ill, or at least those with manic-depression, ought not to be allowed to have children, teach or see patients. Others thought my psychosis was precisely what I deserved because, by definition, I was not a “devout enough Christian.” Some told me they were praying for me.

What haunted me the most, however, was the hundreds of letters and telephone calls from people who felt they could never be honest about their mental illness, because if they did they would lose their jobs, friends or health insurance. Numerous young doctors and graduate students wrote me about their own experiences with depression or manic-depression and the lack of support they had received from their professors or mentors. They wrote over and over again that it was hard to be honest about mental illness when their hospital privileges, medical licenses or academic degrees were at stake. Secretaries and technicians, businessmen and lawyers, pilots and teachers, politicians and engineers, all said the same thing: the pain of the illness was terrible, but their own fears and the reactions of others made it worse.

Discrimination exists. It is less rampant than it was in the past–thanks to extensive media coverage about the biological basis for severe psychiatric illnesses and the availability of highly effective treatments. But discrimination still exists in public attitudes, private remarks, employment opportunities and a lack of fair access to health care. Discrimination against the mentally ill is sanctioned in ways that are inconsistent with a civilized society.

Mental illnesses are not only stigmatized; they are also very common. Nearly one woman in five, for instance, will experience a clinical depression during her lifetime, and at least one in 100 will suffer from manic-depression. These illnesses are devastating; they can also be fatal. Suicide is a major public-health problem, not only in this country, where it kills more than 30,000 people every year, but everywhere. Suicide is, in fact, the second major cause of death worldwide in women between the ages of 15 and 44. Almost all of these suicides are connected to mental illness, and most mental illnesses are treatable. Yet suicide continues to claim lives. We in the United States are fortunate that the surgeon general, Dr. David Satcher, has made suicide prevention one of his foremost public-health priorities. To the extent that the country listens and responds to his leadership, all of us will benefit greatly.

What we as women do not know about diseases of the brain will harm or even kill us. We need to learn the signs and symptoms of the major mental illnesses, aggressively seek good care and expect that our doctors will be informed and take our conditions seriously. The brain is immensely complicated, and when it goes awry, the suffering can be devastating. But medical research has moved swiftly and elegantly in recent years, and it has brought with it excellent science, effective treatment and hope.