This June, I read Mind Over Meetings: A Personal Perspective on Wellness in the Workplace, a memoir by Kody Green. Kody lives with schizophrenia, and the experiences he poured into the book are more valuable and actionable than a thousand performative mental health awareness events. In a way, his book is an even-keeled direct tirade against equity for individuals who live with a severe mental illness. This book is for those who work around him. It subtly calls out people who willfully choose to not engage in support of those with mental illnesses but recounting many stories of times conversations around the topic were not taken seriously. He lays out clear and straightforward guidance for navigating the workplace as a person with mental illness. He empowers his peers to sit at the table that most people take for granted because they don’t question their functionality. The brevity of the book adds to its practicality. There are tips, lists, nods to podcasts, peer profiles, and an outstanding index. In sum, it is all you need to fill the seat of equity for individuals with mental illness. Here is an excellent opportunity to learn.

I became a fan of Kody’s work after listening to Schiz & Giggles, the podcast he hosts with schizoaffective disorder advocate Kat Wallis.  The lived experiences of people tending to their mental health (divided by a mental illness) is their watercooler talk. Now, that conversation jumps into new applicability. I wish the candor and frankness of such conversations could float in the air of the internet.

There’s no easy way to talk about mental illness, especially when some people “don’t think it exists” (that, the symptoms like lethargy, lack of clear thinking, lack of internal grounding can be simply overcome) or look to media-driven stereotypes and narratives as expectant character profiles. Kody makes an effort to differentiate between “mental health” and “mental illness.” He writes the following: 

Mental health refers to a person’s general well-being and their ability to cope with the stress of everyday life experiences…Mental illness, on the other hand, is often a lifelong chronic disorder that requires early intervention, medication, and ongoing treatment. (ebook, 2024, p.13)

In point-counterpoint fashion, he goes on to say that “mental health ailments can be inevitable without proper self-care.” He dedicates an entire chapter to ideas around self-care. The terms “mental health” and “mental illness” are often used interchangeably, but that usage comes from (in my opinion) a lack of awareness of the difference. Different but linked, Kody writes. After stabilizing on schizophrenia medication, he started to deal with depression and anxiety—the things that weighed on his mental health. “Normal” for Kody is having a life—working, managing his illness, and fulfilling his role as a husband. “Not normal” was life prior for him, a cycle of addiction and incarceration.

Kody lives in rural America—Wisconsin, to be specific. His job history includes manufacturing, customer service, and factory work. The social setting struck me. He is someone in an environment conducive to stigmatized and taboo-type conversations. I wondered where he got  the idea to speak out and continue to choose himself, define his own measure of health, and keep pursuing healthcare treatment, education, and situational betterment. This speaks to the integrity of his character and hits a redemptive note for me. Agency and self-empowerment should be on the list to talk about during therapy—conversations around situational improvement through sheer will should happen more frequently in the therapy space. 

We exist in an ecosystem, a collection of parts such as a job, a homelife/partner, access to healthcare, and education. 

Knowing how to leverage them is so important. In Kody’s case, his ability to do just that served him well.

I don’t get the impression that this book was written with any type of pity, disdain, or  anger—no emotional ghosts, no evidence that would tamper with the attitude of the reader. I had to sit with this for a moment. I had to ask myself why I read this book. Am I reading it as a peer or as a mental health practitioner? The answer is both. The guidance on navigating work conversations around mental illness (whether it should be disclosed at all), rights, and time off for self-care needs is excellent. It’s pointed toward individuals navigating the workplace.

But it’s also incredibly beneficial for those working in human resources and building a company culture that is inclusive. Cringe-worthy “overheard at work” anecdotes are, unfortunately, not new. What’s new here is a tracklist of sorts to clock statements that are offensive to someone with a mental illness. “Mental health issues are a result of poor parenting and not disciplining kids enough.” (p. 20) – ick! It’s an ignorant, baseless statement. Awareness around language, bolstered by the examples in the book, would be an excellent training video.

I started to wonder if it’s at all possible to create an inclusive workplace without politicizing it. Struggling with mental health and mental illness means a lack of productivity (sometimes), unstable schedule (sometimes), trust and discernment issues (sometimes), and in general, a less employable employee (nerp). Having the support to address the symptoms and focus on patient-centered healthcare so that the individual can return to a semblance of reliability, trust, and dependability is the way the conversation should go. Most workplace practices are in direct conflict of that value. This is the part where I say access to education, healthcare, housing, and food are universal rights. A person can’t work when they can’t handle themselves.

I said this in a prior blog, and I reiterate it here:

The point of mental healthcare isn’t to restore a person to a level of functioning that others who are healthy embody; the point is to empower a person to cultivate the dedication to health as it is relevant for them while building a meaningful self-care practice and community around others who validate that dedication. He writes that negative ideas about  work start with the employees, not necessarily human resources. 

Human resource departments are the hubs of company culture. Kody writes that it was nice to not have to “mask” (consciously alter behavior or opinion to hide the truth) after talking to HR about his mental illness. So if self determining definitions of health is a start, then the next step is shopping for employment that fits your needs. It seems counterintuitive: we look for jobs we would like, right? Or pay well? Or are easily accessible to us? But the point Kody softly continues to emphasize is that it is the other way around—the company needs to fit us. 

In other words, understand your rights.

The lack of empathy required to fire someone when they’re struggling is staggering. It happens all the time. But not firing (or hiring) someone due to their mental illness is just bad business. I wish I could google stats for “workplaces that don’t even try.” Kody brings up the idea of reasonable accommodations, and mentions that the ADA (American DIsabilities Association) offers provisions for protecting employees. Having and managing a chronic illness is a disability, and not all disabilities are visible. Mental health, varying levels of functionality, and how that affects the dynamic in the workplace are important conversations to address. 

Kody says that it’s important to have these conversations before the situation slumps. 

Narrative shift happens with memoirs like this. This book is an insight into living successfully with schizophrenia. The masking will come from those people who read the book and think nothing should be done to make a workplace more of a space for inclusion. Human resource departments should look at the practical guidance—and then reflect on why do it at all? 

Because, one day, what if you are the person who is afraid to speak up for yourself?

Works mentioned

Green, K. (2024). Minds Over Meetings: A Personal Perspective on Wellness in the Workplace. Wiley.