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A Journey With You

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Still Learning and Growing: Changing Views on Mental Illness

13 Wednesday Dec 2017

Posted by A Journey With You in bipolar, caregivers, mental illness, schizophrenia, Uncategorized

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

bipolar, books, creativity, culture, history, involuntary treatment, mental health, mental illness, mentally ill, politics, psychosis, reviews, schizophrenia]

God, or if you prefer, the Universe, has a way of teaching us things we need to learn if we listen. Recently I wrote about how I get tired of hearing stories about schizophrenia from a parent, sibling, or other relative’s point of view. Well, I am reading a book, “no one cares about crazy people,” by Ron Powers that has me rethinking that blog post. The book is a part memoir (Ron’s only two children both developed schizophrenia), and the other part is fantastic research into culture, politics, history, treatment, and stories of schizophrenia.

Not only am I rethinking relatives writing about schizophrenia, but I have also changed my mind about involuntary commitment. I used to sit on the fence about the fact that someone has to be a danger to themselves or others to be forced into treatment, but I am no longer a fence sitter. If a person is psychotic, and a medical doctor concludes they are psychotic, I think that should be enough to force someone into treatment. There are so many reasons to support this view: prolonged psychosis does more damage to the brain the longer it is allowed to persist, a person who is psychotic has no insight into their behavior and can’t tell someone if indeed they are a danger to themselves or others. And, during psychosis being a danger can change within minutes.

Ron Powers doesn’t take the voice of his sons and tell “their story.” He incorporates words from both of his sons into the book, so we get to hear not only the parent’s voice but the voice of two young men who develop schizophrenia. The book is so good. So, so good. I would send my copy to one of you to read it, but I am going to use it as a reference for years to come.

I thought I knew a lot about the history of mental health treatment in this country, and in other parts of the world (like Nazi Germany). It turns out, I knew quite a bit, but many of the specifics and how those things fit together and move from one age, or condition to another was beyond me.

The memoir part of the book is stunning. The writing is great and to read how one family entered the world of mental illness (and suffered the most tragic of consequences), is enough to split a piece of your heart.

The research is fascinating. The ties that the author makes from psychiatry to Scientology and how these two things linked most bizarrely to negatively impact people’s view of the medical treatment of mental illness was something I knew nothing about. Also, I have always blamed Ronald Reagan for “deinstitutionalization,” but the real beginning of it started with JFK. Reagan just kept cutting and cutting and gutting and gutting – from his time as governor of California to his time as president.

I am three-fourths of the way done with this book, and it has already proven to be one of the best books I have read on schizophrenia and the issues involving mental illness. If you want to know more about the link between creativity and mental illness, eugenics, the laws, the current state of our mental health treatment, the history of psychiatry and more, this book is a good place to begin or possibly because of its wide breadth a good place to begin and end.

The researched chapters are not easy reading, but the fact that the author breaks them up with his personal stories make the book more enjoyable and accessible.

My Latest Essay on Drunken Boat

24 Wednesday Aug 2016

Posted by A Journey With You in articles I wrote, mental illness, schizophenia, Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Art, artist, essay, history, insider art, mental illness, outside art, paintings, psychiatry, psychotic, writing

I hope you will read my latest essay on Drunken Boat. It is about “Outsider Art.”  I think those of you who have any connection to mental illness will find the essay interesting. If you do read it, please let me know what you think of my opinion of “Outsider Art.”

My New Series on Drunken Boat

27 Friday May 2016

Posted by A Journey With You in articles I wrote, Uncategorized, writing

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

Art, artists, drunken boat, essays, history, identify, identity, literary, literature, magazine, mental health, mental illness, schizophrenia], series, writer, writing

Please check out my introductory essay for my new series on Drunken Boat. The series will cover mental illness in art.

The title is, Bright Lights and Dark Corners

Color: A Memoir

14 Sunday Feb 2016

Posted by A Journey With You in Uncategorized, writing

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

color, creative nonfiction, creative writing, essay, history, memoir, writer, writing

My skin has a pink tone and I get red before brown in the sun that kids always draw as a big yellow orb in the sky surrounded by blue space and white clouds for art projects in elementary school where the playground has both green (healthy and new) and brown (dried and dead) grass growing and there is often a hill that children love to roll down with their arms stretched out and toes pointed inside neon orange sneakers some with flashing pink lights as they walk across the black asphalt parking lot to their parent’s silver SUV.  School is out for the day and it is time to go home driving by the pink, white, blue, tan, red brick houses until making it to their own home which has purple violets growing in dark soil that have been fertilized with manure that floats through the air and if the smell of manure had a color it would be greenish brown. At home, there are bright blueberry popsicles as a snack before dinner. Dinner is a green salad with red tomatoes and two tone green cucumbers with olive oil, pink Himalaya salt, squeezed lemon and white chunks of fresh feta cheese along with macaroni and cheese that is almost the color of a light pumpkin and hot dogs not because they are nutritious but because mothers and fathers get tired of struggling with kids about what they will and won’t eat, the salad is for the adults, most adults like salad but not all of them and kids grow to be adults and join the ranks of the responsible, those of us who have to wear sunscreen because we have been told that burning your skin puts you at risk for cancer like everything else these days like dyes that are put in food, everything is suspect, it is all about health and staying young which none of us do as our hair turns silver and falls out. When I worked for an architecture firm the colors for walls, for carpets, for tile, for trim had names like split pea, showtime, chambourd, canvas, interlude and it reminded me of a box of Crayola Crayons but more difficult to imagine which color the words described. Magenta was my favorite color crayon along with midnight blue.  I used those two crayons so much that they were stubs while other colors like burnt orange barely had a dent in its tip. In the days before diversity, there was a crayon called flesh that was related to the color peach. When I paint, I make people’s skin green because it looks better that way and then no one knows about such things as white, black or brown. Green, like an apple before it is ripe or a Granny Smith that never turns red, skin that is forever green, green like a monster is how they describe jealousy an emotion I rarely feel at my age but like everyone I have had my experiences with it and I think it should be red. Red is the color of a rose (and white, and orange, and pink) and love and passion and rage. All of my emotions are sitting in a box of color crayons just waiting to be assigned a color. There are jacarandas trees lining my street and at a certain time of year all the petals fall it is like purple snow piled across the sidewalks and there are white flowers in the bushes so fragrant they are jasmine and their smell which lingers for at least a block brings me back to Cairo Egypt where young men often sold necklaces strung with jasmine to the passing cars they would put their arm covered by the necklaces of white flowers inside the car window and the car that was usually black and smelled of cigarettes would be floral, an instant floral shop on wheels.  The whole thing makes me feel exactly like I did when I was seventeen and had a full head of red hair that was bleached in streaks by the desert sun that was so bright it burned my eyes.  I don’t want to be friends with people from high school where they proudly promote that we were/are Eagles brown and white soaring through the sky. Sore is right like a festering blister that has been on my peach/pink/pale skin for over thirty years. High school is like an infection that oozes red bloody white puss on the present day. I am drawn back in by social media. The status updates are always purple, pink glitter happy rainbow unicorns and my life is good too, but they manage to make me feel outside and less always. Always like the color of the sand on the beach, tan. I have seen white sandy beaches and rain that falls from the sky so hard in minutes you are soaked and your blue jeans become almost black with the fullness of the liquid they retain. Dark day yesterday, storm clouds of deep gray in my mind as my therapist wouldn’t easily let me go as a client. Guilt is the color of the night sky in an open space. Slimy like the deep dark green kale on the ocean’s floor that washes onto the beach and often has a balloon-like head to it that if you step on it pops like a firecracker on the Fourth of July. Red little stars, blue little stars,  white little stars and everything is patriotic all day and flags are waving, and people might mention Betsy Ross if they have any memory at all as to who she was and why she mattered. We forget our history like white slate or a blackboard wiped clean by a green erasure that a teacher threw across the room to get the boy who talks all the time to shut up. I love school and reading and educating myself about many topics brown paper bags serve as a book cover you got instructions on how to make the first day of class. I don’t know my husband’s favorite color he wears casual slacks that are tan, green, brown and black. On the weekends, he wears a burnt orange shirt that my mom bought him nine years ago or a yellow and green Sprite shirt that I won in a contest. I have been in a white limousine with flashing little lights once in my life the interior was crushed blue velvet, and I know it sounds like I am lying, but I try not to lie. Lies are a shade of blue. I occasionally tell a blue shade of a lie when people put me on the spot, and I either don’t want to hurt their feelings liking to keep things upbeat and on a yellow spectrum than, to be honest which can be more like a splatter of red paint or a spill of red wine on a llama hide carpet. The thought of a llama hide carpet made me think of food. I rarely eat meat red, white, brown, pink – most of it, no. I occasionally have some crispy brown bacon with black edges, and once in a while, I will eat pink smoked salmon or reddish pink salami.  When I was a kid my mom made meats that were all gray, and only one of my brothers grew up eating the stuff. The rest of us shy (pink as in blushing) away from it as much as possible.  My first car was a Plymouth, and it was a peachy color.  My second car was a white Subaru that I drove through the front of a 7-11 one night when I was stressed out (fire engine red), and I was so lucky no one was hurt because there were people standing in line who had to run from the nose of my car and all of that glass the whole store front fell like little shiny crystals all over the tan tile and the grey cement. The cop didn’t flash the red lights, but he was mean to me at first. I was wearing a purple shirt black pants and black pointed leather shoes. The second officer was nice and asked why I didn’t roll down my window and say that I thought it was a drive-thru. I didn’t receive a pink ticket or anything, and it was ruled an accident. A colorful accident to be sure the color of scared (definitely bright orange, probably with a neon glow) the color of people’s clothes, the color of the officer’s uniforms which were the deepest darkest blue, the color of the cop cars which were, white with a dark writing, the color of all those products lined on the shelves of a convenience store, a rainbow. Gay pride in action and that is why I ran my car through the 7-11. It was the early 90’s, and my brother’s partner had just died of AIDS, it hit the gay community the hardest (a Jackson Pollock painting) purple lesions and less than eighty pounds, a thick mixture of orange – urine and blood in a sack at the bottom of the bed.  Every week it seemed someone else we knew died of that plague. Ring around the rosy pocketful of posies ashes ashes we all fall down. Back to the grass and how it is green when it is young and watered and alive and how it is brown when it is shriveled and dry and how kids like to paint pictures of things like their families and how psychologist always attribute so much meaning to those drawings. I wonder what they think of that big yellow orb in the blue sky with the white clouds. I like to think it is picture perfect even if they colored outside of the lines because life is like that color here –color there- color everywhere.

How Far Have We Come, Inches Or Miles?

16 Friday Oct 2015

Posted by A Journey With You in bipolar, mental illness, schizophrenia, stigma

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

acitivist, advocacy, Advocate, bipolar, compassion, dehumanizing, depression, essays, Germany, history, human, insurance, jail, law, mental health, mental illness, mentally ill, Nazi, past, police, prison, psychotic, racism, statistics, sterilization, United States, writing

“Nazi Germany was not the first or only country to sterilize people considered “abnormal.” Before Hitler, the United States led the world in forced sterilizations. Between 1907 and 1939, more than 30,000 people in twenty-nine states were sterilized, many of them unknowingly or against their will, while they were incarcerated in prisons or institutions for the mentally ill. “ (A link to quote source).

If you think that stigma doesn’t exist, and that mentally ill people and their advocates need to lighten up then please read the quote again.

“…the United States led the world in forced sterilizations.”

If you are thinking to yourself, ‘Well, that was in the past, that could never happen today.”

Liberal leaning California led the pack in sterilizations. The last one performed under the law was in 1963. So, until just over fifty years ago, sterilizing people with a mental illness was legal.

Consider the case of the woman identified as Mary Moe in 2012. Mary had been hospitalized several times for schizophrenia and when she turned up at an emergency room pregnant a judge ruled that she be forced to undergo an abortion and then sterilization. Fortunately, another judge stepped in and made a different decision. But this was only three short years ago.

I am constantly horrified by the treatment of the mentally ill, and I am using sterilization as just one part of how the mentally ill have been and still are treated in this country.  The United States has a very grim report card when it comes to caring for the mentally ill – asylums, lobotomies, electric shock, insulin shock, ice baths, jails, the streets, no treatment, etc.

Obviously sterilization is not a big problem to fight off today. There are still some people who probably believe that all people with a mental illness should be sterilized, but thankfully not too many of them are in a position to make this standard procedure or the law.

But the situations that lead to people implementing laws like sterilization are still present. In order for people to accept the sterilization of others, dehumanization has to take place. The terrible treatment of the mentally ill in this country is as old as racism. And just like racism, its roots are thick and deep and insipid – they don’t let go, or change easily. Many people see the mentally ill as “less than” and don’t care that they are left without treatment in the streets and in prisons, because after all, the mentally ill are not viewed as “fully human” and deserving of compassionate care. The statistics regarding the treatment of the mentally ill prove that dehumanization is still persistent in our culture.

It’s frightening to be mentally ill in America in 2015 – one psychotic episode which involves the police could result in your death, one psychotic episode where you are terrified and confused, could lead to jail time. The loss of income could mean the loss of insurance and treatment. Most of us realize we are only a few steps away from those people who make up the frightening statistics. And the fact that we have to hold on so tight to the way things are or we could watch our lives spiral out of control is dehumanizing – a lack of a safety or security.

The Internet for the Mentally Ill

24 Thursday Sep 2015

Posted by A Journey With You in mental illness, relationships, schizophrenia

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Art, benefits, bipolar, college, computers, creativity, current affairs, depression, friends, history, Internet, medications, mental health, mental illness, mentally ill, network, photography, psychiatrist, psychology, schizophrenia, school, social isolation, symptoms, therapist, triggers

I was talking to my psychiatrist about my how I socially isolate and he said that he knew people frequently disregarded social media as a place to build real relationships because there is the tendency for people to be inauthentic on social media – only presenting their good side. But he suggested that for people with a mental illness it could be the difference between interacting and not interacting with people. I know for me, the majority of the time, I am in a room by myself writing, reading, or participating on social media.

When I was first diagnosed with a mental illness back in the 90’s the Internet was just starting to be popular and it was very expensive (you paid by the hour for services like AOL), it was dial-up and very slow compared to today.  Businesses were just starting to build websites and people communicated in chat rooms.

I’ve lived with a severe mental illness for over two decades and in that time I have seen the opportunities for people with all kinds of mental health issues explode on the Internet.  Here are fourteen of the most obvious ways that the mental health community can benefit from the Internet.

  1. You can email your doctor
  2. You can keep a blog to document your history (to share with a therapist or psychiatrist)
  3. You can track your symptoms
  4. You may be able to discover what triggers your symptoms
  5. You can write down your daily thoughts in order to help you with your memory later
  6. You can make friends
  7. You can communicate with others
  8. You can join a support group
  9. You can use it to network
  10. You can help others
  11. You can develop your creativity (photography, art, writing)
  12. You may be able to find work
  13. You can take classes or earn a degree
  14. You can educate yourself about your illness, or current affairs, or almost anything

These are the most obvious benefits that wide use of the Internet has brought to people with mental illnesses who may be isolated socially. I have used the Internet in all of these ways, and I am comfortable saying that the Internet has improved the quality of my life tremendously and afforded me opportunities I wouldn’t be able to handle otherwise. I am currently working toward a certificate in creative nonfiction from a great school (UCLA), I am working at developing a career as a writer, I am networking with other writers, I communicate with people from all over the world, and I read stories and news daily.

Many people see the negative side of having computers be such a big part of our lives, but I would say for the mentally ill and the mental health community, it has opened so many doors that may have been impossible twenty years ago.

It may be true that many people are not authentic on social media and those relationships often lack depth, truth and meaning, but I think if you pan for the gold that is among the rocks and sand you are bound to find it. I’ve found it, chunks of it are everywhere.

The Holocaust and the Mentally Ill

31 Sunday May 2015

Posted by A Journey With You in bipolar, mental illness, schizophrenia

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

bipolar, disabled, gas chambers, genocide, history, Holocaust, mental health, mental illness, murder, psychiatry, psychology, schizophrenia, sterilization, world war II

A few years ago, my husband and I were visiting Washington D.C. We love to see architecture, museums, monuments, and historical sites when we visit another city, so Washington D.C. is a wonderful place to visit, because it has so many treasures.  We went to see the White House, The Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial, the Vietnam Memorial, as well as, places like the Ford Theater where President Lincoln was shot. While we were walking around the city, we stopped at every museum we ran across. One of the ones we saw was the Holocaust Museum.

When you go to the Holocaust Museum, you get a ticket and it has the time you are slotted to go in. We were fortunate, because there was a government shut-down that ended on the day we were exploring, and most people visiting the city believed the attractions were still closed. So, when we got our ticket, there was no wait, and we got to go in immediately.

When you check in at the museum, they give you an identification card. The card looks like a passport and has a picture of a person inside, and the picture in mine was of Judith Schwed.  In the photo, she is a young girl of maybe ten years old.  The little booklet tells about Judith’s life and ends with her being gassed at Auschwitz in 1944 when she was twelve years old.

I learned all this before actually entering the elevator to see the museum. A pretty hard hitting way to begin a tour, but considering where we were it was entirely heart wrenching, stomach turning, and appropriate.

I will tell you right now, that I didn’t make it through the whole museum. About half way or three fourths of the way through there were hundreds of old shoes in a pile next to the walkway. On one of the walls there was a quote from Eli Wiesel’s book, Night.  After that I couldn’t go on. I had to leave the building. It was overwhelming. The experience was so deep and dark it got into my mind and heart and was too much to continue to contemplate.

It was in that space that I first learned of T-4.

T-4 was a program developed by the Nazis to kill “life unworthy of life.”  Included in that group were people with schizophrenia and bipolar (called manic depressive at the time).  They weren’t the only ones killed though, the deaf, the blind, and disabled of all kinds were killed, eventually this program expanded to include the Gypsies and the Jews.

When I returned home, I wanted to know more about what happened to the mentally ill people during the Holocaust.  I bought a book by Henry Friedlander, The Origins of Nazi Genocide from Euthanasia to the Final Solution. In this book, Friedlander, writes that at first, people with a mental illness were sterilized (starting as early as 1934). Later, the Nazis began experimenting with ways to kill them. Before they made “showers” with gas at “killing centers” they drove those they wished to kill around in a van that filled up with the deadly gas, but this method proved to be difficult and inefficient.

Here is a quote from Friedlander’s book, “the chronology of Nazi mass murder unambiguously shows the killing of the handicapped preceded the systematic murder of Jews and Gypsies.”

There was a time, when a regime, considered the mentally ill “Life unworthy of life.”

Google T-4 for more information and you will discover it is even more disturbing than what I have written here, and its origins (not the killings), eugenics, extended past the German borders and into the United States.

*For further horrors, look up sterilization in the United States.

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