And I mean what I say. At least when I'm talking about mental illness. I think that I've always been kind of open about my history. Especially the history that involves my mentally ill mother. Maxine influenced my life I would say that Maxine, and what I learned from her, has totally shaped my life. I spent years working with people who were living with alcoholism/addiction I also worked with the mentally ill. I worked with men who abused the women in their lives. And I worked with HIV + individuals. How did I get there? Sometimes I felt led. One of the first experiences I had working with the mentally ill indicated how at home I felt. I remember this situation, but I don't remember where it happened or what job it was. But I was speaking to a psychotic man. He was needing to be transported somewhere. He wasn't wearing his shoes. He didn't want to wear his shoes because he told me that Jesus told him to remain barefoot. I didn't miss a beat. There was no arguing. I simply told him that I'd had a conversation with G-D, and that I'd been told that he could put his shoes on for a little bit. No fuss He complied. And we accomplished what we needed to. Now, maybe you don't see why this is so extraordinary, but what I found interesting is that I was totally calm. And totally at home. Mental illness was normal. Really. Maxine made it so.
When I write to you, I'm writing with a combination of education and experience. But actually, the experience is what is most important. From the time that I was eight years old, I knew something about what mental illness is. I watched it on a daily basis Therefore, the FACT of mental illness almost seemed normal. I did compare my family to other more 'normal' families and therefore, took on the judgement that we weren't as good as they were. So, I bought into the stigma. I felt very different. And I felt very alone as a consequence. Why is all of this so important? Because I want you to understand that stigma, and the resulting impact on those living with mental illness, is VERY important to me. I get how it works on your self-esteem. I get how it impacts your ability to recover. I get how it keeps you sick. Because that is how I've lived my life. I always found it very important to pretend that I was somehow different than my clients. When the fact was, I really got it...because in some ways, I was there.
Stigma is about making people the "other". If you see people as different and less human, it makes them easier to dismiss. Or to ignore. I watched people try to ignore my unwashed and sometimes hostile mother. I watched how they pretended that nothing was wrong. And it really did confuse me. Because I knew they knew. When I was younger, I had a principal in elementary school. I'll call him Mr. Gray. Mr. Gray knew my Mom was a problem. He met her. He saw her. But nothing was said. At that time, I was choosing to stop doing my school work. A really childish reaction to a life out of control. He was trying to make me do my assignments. And he talked to my Mom many times. Nothing was said. But I was sent to a social worker. Who also didn't say much about my Mom. In this situation, I learned...nothing is going to be said.
Then, in high school, I was a student of Mr. Gray's wife. In an honors English course. And because things were still out of control and I wasn't making wise choices, I didn't do one thing the entire school year. The same old, same old. And there really weren't consequences. She didn't say "you can't stay in this course unless you do the work". I'm sure I had crummy grades. But I already had experience with that. Somewhere along the way, I realized...if Mr. Gray knew about my Mom...she probably did too. Nothing was going to be said. Again. And nothing was going to get done. I now think this was stigma. I'm betting that knowing about my Mom made them think I couldn't do better. Which clearly was not the case. But I was dismissed.
What is the point of this? Now, I get the impact of stigma. I feel compelled to fight it. I won't allow you to dismiss me today. I write and tell you all about it. And I feel stronger. And more accountable for my recovery. Today, I really do say what I mean. And mean what I say. And it is making all the difference. Truly. It is time for all of us to do it. We have the power if we choose to take it. Join me.
When I write to you, I'm writing with a combination of education and experience. But actually, the experience is what is most important. From the time that I was eight years old, I knew something about what mental illness is. I watched it on a daily basis Therefore, the FACT of mental illness almost seemed normal. I did compare my family to other more 'normal' families and therefore, took on the judgement that we weren't as good as they were. So, I bought into the stigma. I felt very different. And I felt very alone as a consequence. Why is all of this so important? Because I want you to understand that stigma, and the resulting impact on those living with mental illness, is VERY important to me. I get how it works on your self-esteem. I get how it impacts your ability to recover. I get how it keeps you sick. Because that is how I've lived my life. I always found it very important to pretend that I was somehow different than my clients. When the fact was, I really got it...because in some ways, I was there.
Stigma is about making people the "other". If you see people as different and less human, it makes them easier to dismiss. Or to ignore. I watched people try to ignore my unwashed and sometimes hostile mother. I watched how they pretended that nothing was wrong. And it really did confuse me. Because I knew they knew. When I was younger, I had a principal in elementary school. I'll call him Mr. Gray. Mr. Gray knew my Mom was a problem. He met her. He saw her. But nothing was said. At that time, I was choosing to stop doing my school work. A really childish reaction to a life out of control. He was trying to make me do my assignments. And he talked to my Mom many times. Nothing was said. But I was sent to a social worker. Who also didn't say much about my Mom. In this situation, I learned...nothing is going to be said.
Then, in high school, I was a student of Mr. Gray's wife. In an honors English course. And because things were still out of control and I wasn't making wise choices, I didn't do one thing the entire school year. The same old, same old. And there really weren't consequences. She didn't say "you can't stay in this course unless you do the work". I'm sure I had crummy grades. But I already had experience with that. Somewhere along the way, I realized...if Mr. Gray knew about my Mom...she probably did too. Nothing was going to be said. Again. And nothing was going to get done. I now think this was stigma. I'm betting that knowing about my Mom made them think I couldn't do better. Which clearly was not the case. But I was dismissed.
What is the point of this? Now, I get the impact of stigma. I feel compelled to fight it. I won't allow you to dismiss me today. I write and tell you all about it. And I feel stronger. And more accountable for my recovery. Today, I really do say what I mean. And mean what I say. And it is making all the difference. Truly. It is time for all of us to do it. We have the power if we choose to take it. Join me.
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