I am MORE than my mental illness...

For many mentally ill people, the fact that they are mentally ill is the defining condition and experience of their life.  For some of my clients, being mentally ill was primary in their identity.  And as they interacted with the world, that was how they saw themselves and expected you to see them.  In my Mom’s case, she would have denied the label.  She saw the problem as being outside of herself.  Or at least that is what she told us as she yelled at us about whatever she was angry about at that moment.  For her, the problem was my Dad being “queer” or the behavior of her children as she called us “sluts”.   It wasn’t HER problem.  It was outside of her.  However, in reality, my clients and my Mom had limited ability to function in the world.  And I believe their inability to function was related to a biochemical and physical issue.  For all of them, my clients and my Mom…the illness had a defining impact on their options in life.  They couldn’t separate themselves from what the illness did.  And so, they were controlled.   Absolutely and totally controlled.  That, unfortunately, is what chronic and severe mental illness tends to do to people. 

From my time working in the psych hospital, I remember a patient who was a lawyer.  She was a talented woman. Although she had been committed involuntarily because of a suicide attempt, she was eventually released after convincing the court that she had been committed in violation of her rights.  She had bipolar disorder.  And during the time that she was in the hospital, she was dealing with a bankruptcy due to her frequent spending binges while manic.  She had spent thousands and thousands of dollars during those times.   I remember that she kept herself occupied while in the hospital working on actions that would be presented to the court at the time of her commitment hearing.  And of course the doctors in the hospital were slightly terrified to do anything about that because she was a lawyer.  She wore her diagnosis proudly, telling me that she loved being manic…because she got so much done. (And I remember more than a few nights when I tried to accompany her on her walks back and forth in the hallway.  She exhausted me.)  She wore the badge of “mentally ill” proudly.  And she was resistant to any suggestions about medication or lessening the impact of her symptoms.  I found her to be charming and open.  In spite of her penchant for attempting to bully the doctors and medical staff.  And I worried about her.  Because I felt that she was playing with fire.  This turned out to be the case.  In a matter of a few months after her release from the hospital, she finally managed to kill herself.  She was dead.  No rescue this time.  She successfully committed suicide.  She wore her mental illness as a badge of honor.  And in spite of her legal brilliance, it appears she didn’t recognize the risk that refusing treatment might have on her continued life.  Or maybe she didn’t care.  Maybe her illness prevented her from caring.

In times since then, I have run across many people who have no desire to heal.  The word recovery doesn’t enter their mind.  I have wondered, is that an identity thing?  Do they like feeling sick?  Why do they fight treatment so hard?  I don’t know the answer to that.  But my guess is that when you are that sick, that is all you know.  And you don’t really see how life can be better healthy.  Or even near healthy.  As I say that, I think about my paranoid schizophrenic client.  The one who would hoard medicine and try to avoid getting shots.  Although she was bright and clearly capable as a young woman, she never took on the opportunity to heal.  I couldn’t comprehend what would keep her from seizing the opportunity to feel better…if she could even conceive of that.  And she put so much energy into avoiding the medication, I had to wonder why. Did this have something to do with comfort with the status quo?  Or was she scared of being well and not knowing what to do with her life?  Could it have been medication issues?  Or what?  Maybe I am giving people too much credit for being able to choose.  After all, part of being that mentally ill is not being able to think clearly.   

     

In point of fact, it made me grateful for my opportunity to feel better.  Whatever the situation, I have always been aware that I have a choice.  And until I started writing this blog, I didn’t want to OWN the label “mentally ill”.  I did that in this blog because I want to show YOU that the mentally ill are among us.  There is a continuum of severity.  That makes it important for people to recognize that treating the mentally ill can make a difference in terms of productivity and functioning.  How many clients did that lawyer deny her excellent counsel to when she chose to end her life?  I am willing to bet that she would have impacted the lives of many.  And what could have happened in the life of my client who refused the Haldol?  Could she have become a famous tennis champion?  Had an excellent career in business?  Or married and had children?  Or been there for her Mom as she aged?  I want you to understand that all of us are more than our mental illness. And EVERY life has worth and value.  Even those challenged with a biochemical illness.