Tag Archives: politics

Bridging the Divide

14 Thursday Jun 2018

Posted by in caregivers, hope, mental illness, relationships, Uncategorized

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The past two years have been surreal. I feel like reality is fluid. Reality used to be full of hard facts, things we could easily prove. Now, people we are supposed to trust throw conspiracy theories and “alternative facts” around regularly. Our country is changing at such a dizzying speed, and much of it is shocking, and some of it is alarming. One thing is for sure, as a group, as citizens, as a nation we are divided, and those divisions are causing people to feel hostile and angry. It is as though everyone is on the verge of snapping.
I discovered something, possibly one of the few things I can do to bring generosity, kindness, concern, love, goodness, friendliness, and all the positive things we can feel between two people back and that is to go small. I thought about it during breakfast this morning.
My husband and I had breakfast at a local hotel.  When we arrived, the whole room was loud, and every table was full. People were cutting in the buffet line, talking on video conferencing, having to raise their voices to hear their table mates. We learned from our server that ninety people eating in the restaurant were a part of a tour group. The people on tour were on a time limit, so it is easy to understand why they were in a hurry, not waiting in line, etc. but the impact this had on the servers as this person and that person asked for water, or coffee was noticeable.
Every time our server went by, we asked if she was okay. We told her it looked very stressful. We thanked her for everything she brought us and said we hoped her day started to look up. It was evident that our concern for her was going a long way because she made sure to come back to our table frequently to ask if we needed anything, or wanted anything.
My husband and I said working at a buffet when a large group comes in must be very hard. We didn’t see a single person tip their servers. We know from being on tours that the head of the tour should leave a big tip for all the servers to share, but there is no guarantee that that is the custom everywhere.
We decided to leave our server a larger than usual (about double) tip to make up for all the running around she had to do and for putting up with chaos with a smile on her face. When she received our tip, she was so grateful.
As we walked along the waterfront after our breakfast, I told my husband that the only thing I can think of to help out people right now is to go small – make every interaction, every conversation, every greeting, every time I talk or see another person an opportunity to show love and kindness. The only hope I see for rebuilding our relationships and communities and crossing this vast angry divide is to go small and take it one person at a time.

I know we can be the friendly and generous people we have a reputation of being if we heal each other one interaction at a time.
I’m going small, and hoping others will join me and that it can make all the difference.

How the Current Environment Mimics Schizophrenia

16 Friday Mar 2018

Posted by in mental illness, schizophrenia, Uncategorized

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I think most Americans, whether they know it or not, are much closer than they realize to understanding the frequently misunderstood thought process of someone with schizophrenia. In fact, some people might be moderately experiencing that “diseased” process. I have spent time for that thought process, colloquially referred to as insanity, on a locked ward. Even though I have had periods of insanity, I also know what sanity is; I can recognize healthy thoughts. But I never thought I would have to white-knuckle my hold on reality because of the prevalence of so many untruths, conspiracy theories, and delusions in the media. Ours is an insane environment of information right now and I know I’m not the only one with a history of mental illness, or not, struggling to stay afloat mentally.

Not long ago, on major networks, we were watching coverage of the shooting in Las Vegas, with interviews of victims, first responders, and other eyewitnesses, stories of injuries, of everyday heroes, of the tragic loss of life. At the same time as these stories were told, social media was alive with conspiracy theories like that the shooter didn’t act alone; it was an inside job, there was no shooting in Las Vegas. Much like the denials that continue to be printed and told and circulate about the Sandy Hook Shooting. And last year, false stories and conspiracy theories brought us Pizzagate – a fake news story about a child sex ring operating out of a D.C. pizza joint.

I have schizophrenia and once believed that Americans traveling to China, in particular people on business, were being forced to work in sweatshops and were the victims of torture having body parts removed and sewn back on – a finger where a toe once was – an arm for a leg. Certain that this was happening, I believed several of my friends and family were dead.

When I had delusions about China, I was sick. I was in need of medical intervention. Of course, someone like me, who is prone to delusions, doesn’t just hold one at a time. I also held the beliefs that the world would end any day, that the government was wiretapping my conversations and spying on me and many other things that might sound familiar in this new, what should I call it? Reality? Environment? Political climate? I search for the words to describe it and to define it. One thing is for certain: reality has changed drastically and is almost unrecognizable from this time two years ago.

When I listened to President Obama, speak it never occurred to me that he was lying. It is possible that I was naïve, but it was a different day and age (even though not so long ago). I don’t know why but for the most part, I trusted him and (just in case you think I only trust Democrats, I trusted George W. Bush). I assume these former presidents may have misled the American people occasionally, but I am reading reports weekly that the current president lies on average of five times a day.

During a regular news cycle and the accompanying dose of social media, each day has more in common now with my symptoms of schizophrenia than ever before. There are the President’s denial of facts, fake news sites, correspondents presenting a skewed view of reality. I have a concern for the mental health of Americans because of my experience of delusions has always been frightening, and conspiracy theories, and “alternative facts” break down our sense of trust not just in governmental agencies and officials but other people and institutions. The current environment has led me to question everything.  And this practice of questioning, checking sources and doubting is exhausting and confusing for everyone, but for me, it is necessary to keep me on solid ground mentally.

In October of 2017, the Miami Herald reported that Bettina Rodriguez Aguilera, a woman running for Congress in Florida, believes she was taken on a spaceship by aliens. If I told the story that Aguilera is telling, my doctors would change my medication, and it is possible I would end up in a psych ward.

As someone with schizophrenia, I don’t have a choice when it comes to fighting for reality just like the majority of voting Americans didn’t choose this confusing, and almost mind-altering place they find on their televisions, Smartphones, and computers.  To get through this with sanity on their side, Americans may turn to people with schizophrenia for tricks and tools in how to avoid being sucked in by delusions, conspiracy theories, and lies. I never thought I would have advice about reality to give the average American, but I do;  check your sources, don’t take anything at face value, and question everything you hear.  Otherwise, we will all find ourselves in the realm of tin-foil hats, and no one will think it is funny.

 

Social Media Addiction and Anger

23 Tuesday Jan 2018

Posted by in mental illness, schizophrenia, stigma, Uncategorized

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Last night I asked my husband to download a social media blocker onto my Smartphone. I believe I am wasting the majority of my days scrolling through Facebook, and I wanted a way to keep me from what I know is an addiction. I was going to use the new app. today, but so far I haven’t because I am having a productive day.

I woke up and read four articles on the New York Times website (they were great articles about creativity). And then I checked my Facebook writing groups for leads and tips about writing and selling articles. Finally, I downloaded some videos by a freelance writer to watch in case she had information to share that would help me build my portfolio of clips (she did!).

About fifteen minutes ago I turned on the news (something I also do way too much of), and I started to scroll through Facebook. After about ten minutes of reading and scrolling, I saw a large text post on a black background that said, “Do you know the best thing about schizophrenia? You never have to be alone!”

I typed out a sarcastic and angry response to the person who posted this “joke.” But then I deleted it. That is the problem. I am so angry. I have become angrier since the election in 2016. Every day on Facebook I read nasty comments that people have posted. Yesterday I read an anti-vaxxer’s (someone who doesn’t believe in giving vaccinations) post about how only rich people and suckers get the flu vaccine. (I am not rich, and I’m not a sucker, but the flu can kill my husband so I get vaccinated so that I won’t accidentally expose him). The arguments under this post were fierce.

Of course, I agree with the people who fought for the support of vaccines, but I am tired of these fights. I am tired of the nasty responses on social media, and I am tired that it is a platform for “jokes,” ignorance, and hatred. The current climate in our country is toxic. There is open racism. There has always been racism, but for many years it was not okay to talk about bigoted or racist beliefs openly in public. I still think it is wrong to think and express these things and don’t want to be around people who do, but it is now something people feel comfortable saying in public.

I read terrible things written on friend’s facebook walls about Christians. I want to say, “Hey, I am a Christian!” But I understand their frustration because of the hypocrisy coming from our politicians. Recently, a politician who fought for pro-life legislation asked his girlfriend to get an abortion. Some politicians are anti-gay and then have been discovered to have had sex with a same-sex partner. Then there are the Christians who fought against Bill Clinton because he was so horrible for having an affair and the very same people think God has put Trump into office. And in their minds, those Christians can explain away nude pictures of the First Lady and multiple divorces, offensive talk about women, etc.

My blood pressure is high just typing these things. The hypocrisy, the hatred, the anger, the bullying, the racism, the ignorance, is making me an angry person. I don’t want to be angry. I was so excited about the Women’s March until I got on social media and saw articles about how people thought it wasn’t inclusive enough. Can’t we do anything right anymore? Can’t something as big and as positive as over a million women coming together at least mean we are going in the right direction? I just can’t take the negativity, and the negativity is everywhere I look on social media and in the news.

I make sacrifice after sacrifice to protect my mental health. The one thing I let go, and let slip in 2017 was an increasingly harmful addiction to social media and the news. I’m pulling back now. I am going to be reading more, and writing more. I may not always know the latest cultural trend from here on out, but at least I am avoiding being a pissed off person slinging hate on the Internet.

Still Learning and Growing: Changing Views on Mental Illness

13 Wednesday Dec 2017

Posted by in bipolar, caregivers, mental illness, schizophrenia, Uncategorized

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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.

The Nation Lashes out at Mental Illness

06 Tuesday Dec 2016

Posted by in bipolar, caregivers, mental illness, schizophrenia, stigma, Uncategorized

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Yesterday I wrote a blog post about what schizophrenia is and what it is not. This post is similar but rather than look at the personal (stories about me) I am looking at how people view severe mental illness on a national level.

This election cycle was difficult for many people to get through. The things that we had to listen to on the nightly news were vulgar, intolerant and upsetting in so many ways. We experienced Islamophobia, xenophobia, homophobia, misogyny, mocking of the disabled, and then those of us who have a mental illness experienced something else: we experienced more insults and misunderstanding than I have encountered in the twenty plus years since I received a diagnosis.

Insulting language about mental illness was everywhere I looked. It filled up my Facebook feed: lunatic, unhinged, crazy, bat shit crazy, insane. It was in mainstream newspapers and used by pundits on the nightly news. Derogatory language about mental illness had become the norm for those who normally fight for marginalized people.

Seeing so much reference in a negative way about mental illness was startling and painful enough, but the reasons why people were using that language was even more alarming. People were confusing intolerance, hate speech, aggression, bigotry, misogyny, sexual assault and all manner of other disturbing things with symptoms of mental illness. None of those things have anything to do with mental illness.

I have symptoms like, depression, anxiety, auditory hallucinations, tactile hallucinations, visual hallucinations, social anxiety, lack of motivation, and isolating socially to name a few. As you can see, none of the things I mentioned as symptoms have to do with discriminating against, disliking, or being intolerant of other people. Also, none of them have to do with aggression.

What people did, millions of people, during this election is make being a racist, sexist, etc. into the definition of mentally ill and those things are not connected. This climate of inappropriate and inaccurate cause and effect impacted me so much I am only now able to write about it. Since the election, I have only seen this addressed once in an article on a news outlet like Huffington Post (I think that is where it was but I can’t be sure).

I felt as if all the social justice people completely abandoned the mentally ill and the nation decided that whatever unfavorable characteristic someone displayed it was due to mental illness. It was as if the title mental illness had become a dumping ground for all the things people find distasteful in others. We became not the trash collectors, but the trash.

Since so few people recognized that this was happening, and did nothing to change their language, I am sure that we will see much more of this over the next four years. The progress the mental health community achieved over the past few years in educating people about mental illness may very well be eroded by the current political climate. I hope the damage is not severe. Those of us who have once again been characterized by the media and the public as “bad” people will suffer the consequences of this latest wave of ignorance and misunderstanding.

Everyone has an Opinion: Identity Politics

01 Thursday Dec 2016

Posted by in mental illness, schizophrenia, stigma, Uncategorized, writing

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My head is spinning, and I don’t know which direction to take my thoughts. I have read much more than usual over these past two years trying to educate myself on racial issues, disability issues, LGBTQ issues and many other things that fall under identity politics. I have gone in so many directions by reading that I am at a standstill. I have been silenced for months now. I am afraid to speak up and afraid to have an opinion.

In the current political climate of increased hatred where people of color or people dressed in religious clothing fear harassment and possibly violence, I have watched actions of solidarity (like wearing a safety pin) to identify allies in public, be torn apart by people claiming it is a sign of privilege. People also claim it is too little too late, and generally a stupid idea. People have criticized the act of wearing a safety pin as something that only benefits the wearer making them feel good (like they can pat themselves on the back for not being a part of the problem).

When acts of hatred started to increase with a terrifying frequency in this country I wanted to do something to let people know, I didn’t feel the same way as the people perpetrating these acts. When I heard about the safety pin, I pinned one to my shirt the next time I went out. In a museum, a woman of color also was wearing a safety pin. We spoke about our fear, our sadness, our desire to represent something other than division and hatefulness in the world. We wanted people to know we would not sit idly by if someone decided to harass them. Of course, I didn’t think wearing a safety pin was the only thing I could do or even the only thing I should do. I made a renewed commitment to try and read more essays from marginalized voices. I immediately started calling on my senators and representatives.

Even though I had a wonderfully human moment while wearing the safety pin, I only left the house once wearing one. I read so much criticism and so many people trying to shame people who only wanted to find a concrete way to show support in public that I was afraid to act. I was afraid of offending the very people I was trying so hard to show that I am an ally.

I am not immune to hatred. I have a husband who is brown, and I have a severe mental illness (schizophrenia – the most stigmatized of the mental illnesses). Also, I have spent two years trying to educate myself on the reality of other marginalized groups. In other words, I am not the enemy. I may not always make choices that suit everyone regarding how I go about being an ally, but my heart is always in the right place which is to stay I stand beside and not in front of the oppressed. Can I use more education? Yes, I think that I will need to continue my education until I die. I will never be perfect. I will never be completely “woke” to every instance of racism, homophobia, transphobia, sexism, Islamophobia, etc.

I have read enough articles and essays to be aware that this piece of writing would probably be torn apart by some for what is called “white fragility.”  White fragility is the inability of white people to accept the calling out of their privilege. Look, let’s get real here: I see the people like me filthy dirty, with torn clothes, matted hair and yelling in the street. I see the media portrayal of people like me as dangerous serial killers. I see the people like me (who account for half of all of those shot by police) killed by bullets. I see the people like me being warehoused in prisons instead of hospital or community treatment. I see the people like me dying an average of twenty years sooner than their peers. I know and live stigma and discrimination every single day. I may be white, but I am also a part of a group that is dehumanized every single day by huge numbers of people, organizations, the media, etc.

During this election cycle, I have seen derogatory mental health terms used over and over again to describe one of the candidates. I have seen hatred and bigotry ascribed to mental illness (which is so far from accurate). I have seen more use of the words, lunatic, unhinged, crazy, tinfoil hat, etc. It has been widespread and those terms repeatedly being used by many of the same critics of the safety pin and those who would shame others for not being fully “woke” on every issue.

I may always come under fire from those I want to support, but the same is not true for those who want to support me or people like me. If you want to be an ally to the mentally ill, I am going to ask you to keep reading what I and others with a mental illness write. Please keep supporting our voices in publications and on popular websites. Please try to understand us and if you can think of a way to let me know that you care about my experience and safety, I won’t shame you. I promise. I will welcome you as an ally. If you want to wear a safety pin to support people with schizophrenia, I would be thankful, and I might even buy you a cup of coffee. We could talk about the fact that my favorite breed of dog is the French bulldog and how I wasn’t a cat person until I inherited a cat from my brother’s partner who died from AIDS.  You know, we could just talk and get to know each other instead of adding to this division we could add building blocks of friendship and humanity. Because that’s what it all comes down to folks – being human- it’s tough, and it’s beautiful, and we are imperfect as hell.

Baseball is the Reason I am Voting for Hillary

02 Thursday Jun 2016

Posted by in Uncategorized, writing

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I try to ask my eighteen-year-old niece what it is like being a young woman studying biochemistry. She has no complaints. I try to engage her about being a woman in a traditionally male field, but she doesn’t see it that way. My niece is voting for Bernie Sanders. Most of the people I love are voting for Bernie, but I am voting for Hillary, and the reason is baseball.

At nine years old, I had three older brothers and a mother who worked full time. Our neighbors, an older couple, who lived across the street and down a few houses, treated me with kindness and went out of their way to spend time with me.

Mr. Carlson worked for the Department of Fish and Game, and he would bring me eggs from all kinds of birds. He would meticulously label them for me, much like my grandfather labeled rocks for me, and I had an impressive collection. My favorite was an ostrich egg because it was so big, but I didn’t pick it up often, afraid as I was of dropping it and having whatever was inside splatter all over the floor, and possibly, me.

Mrs. Carlson would invite me to their house and ask me to do her hair. She would allow me to put hot rollers in it and comb through the thin curls after they had “set.” While the rollers were doing their thing, I would look at Mrs. Carlson’s bell collection. She had hundreds of bells all lined up on shelves throughout her living room.

One day while I was styling Mrs. Carlson’s hair I told her my one dream was to play baseball. I wasn’t the kind of girl who dreamed of my future wedding, or going to Disneyland or being a princess. I wanted to play baseball like my older brothers even though it meant I would be the first girl in our town to play little league.

Mrs. Carlson laughed when I told her my dream was to be on a little league team. She told me that no girl who loved her would ever play baseball. It wasn’t something that girls do.

I had never given voice to my dream before that day, and I never would again. Silently and despondently I put the dream of baseball behind me.

Not too long after that, my mom got married, and we moved to another town. I would occasionally take out my baseball mitt and play catch with my new step brothers, or my biological brothers or neighborhood kids.

As I grew older, I never replaced the dream of being a baseball player. I wasn’t particularly passionate about anything.

When Hillary Clinton gets up to bat this November she is going to knock that ball out of the park and rather than be on the sidelines as a cheerleader, I am going to grab my mitt, get on the field and play whatever position I want.

That’s the way we do it now, Mrs. Carlson. Girls can finally do anything they want, baseball included.

Think Before You Cast That Vote

07 Monday Mar 2016

Posted by in bipolar, caregivers, mental illness, schizophrenia, stigma, Uncategorized, writing

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I try to avoid talking about religion and politics on my blog because I don’t want to spark arguments, get people’s blood pressure up, or make this into a blog about issues. Normally, I write about mental health, relationships, and life in general.

I have to say something about this presidential election, though. And what I have to say has to do with all of you. Those of you living in the United States have a voice. You have a say in this election and for those of us with a mental illness, it is a critical time.

Think before you vote. That is all I am asking from anyone. Please think about what matters most to you before you cast a ballot in this election.

I will not keep it a secret from you that I am frightened by Donald Trump. He has called women names, he has threatened to put restrictions on Muslims, and he has threatened to deport millions of people. He has the support of people who are organizers and supporters of hate groups.

If none of what I have written so far bothers you, what do you think Donald Trump thinks about people who are mentally ill? I can tell you that he publicly made fun of a reporter with a disability. You can watch the video here. 

If Donald Trump has no empathy for people who suffer from a chronic illness, if he went so far as to imitate in a derogatory way someone with a disability what do you think he would say about someone with schizophrenia or bipolar disorder?

Many people are claiming that there are similarities between Donald Trump and Hitler. I don’t know if that is true, but I can tell you that the first people to die in Hitler’s Germany were the mentally ill and people with other disabilities. All the tests to “perfect” his killing machine were conducted on those with a disability.

I can also tell you that all the issues that impact people of color also impact the mentally ill – the majority of police killings involve a mentally ill person, people with a mental illness are being treated more often in prison than in hospitals, and there are stereotypes and stigma involved with being mentally ill. The list goes on.  It is in our best interest to care about the civil rights of all people because historically when other group’s civil rights are limited ours are limited as well.

I am frightened by the racism that the Trump campaign has brought out in this country. I am frightened for the people I love that are people of color. I am also frightened for all of us who suffer, and have been public about our mental illnesses.

I don’t know how a Trump presidency would turn out because I am not a psychic. I do know that if he believes the things he says that he lacks empathy for vast numbers of people. I will cast my vote for someone who wants to decriminalize mental illness, and get those who are suffering out of prisons and off of the streets.

I want to go forward with mental health treatment and the rights of those who are mentally ill. You can read all about our dark history. I want the lights to stay on and the sun to shine. Think about your vote. It matters. It not only matters to others, but it also matters to you, personally.

Let’s think about it.

My Hierarchy Of Mental Health Advocacy

20 Wednesday Jan 2016

Posted by in bipolar, caregivers, hope, mental illness, schizophrenia, stigma, Uncategorized

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This post is a hierarchy of mental health advocacy that I created based on my priorities, development, growth and commitment. I am not at a certain level. I find that I move back and forth through the different phases. This document is a work in progress; it is a living document that I am creating to help me grow as an advocate. Because it is a living document, and I am going to be updating it, feel free to leave comments with information I may have left out or anything that may be helpful to grow this idea.

  1. Advocacy usually begins with the focus on self.

Most people would agree that writing can be therapeutic. There are many blogs and online journals that people write in an attempt to work through their issues. These blogs or journals can also help educate people about the diagnosis the writer is living with, and they can build up a community of people who suffer from the same illness or loved ones who care about someone with the same illness. But primarily these blogs are focused on the writer’s life and thoughts.

  1. The advocate then starts to branch out.

Then there are blogs and online journals that the writer’s goal is to educate. On these blogs, you will find more links to research, news, and things that are happening that go beyond the life and mind of the writer.

  1. The advocate stretches their reach even further.

Then there are writers who blog, write articles, guest posts, do interviews, etc. to spread their influence and further their reach with the hope of educating more and more people.

  1. The advocate becomes interested in national issues regarding mental health.

Then there are people who contact their elected officials and make their voice and opinion known about policies that directly relate to mental health. These people may make regular calls to the offices of their representatives. They may also start online petitions and try to get other people engaged in changing everything from treatment to stigma.

  1. The final stage is service to others.

Then there is service; getting completely outside of one’s experience to reach out and help others. This service might be starting a non-profit, volunteering at NAMI, helping the homeless, etc.