12 December 2010

Ayati: The Original Name of Haiti


“And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters,
you were doing it to me!’
- Matthew 25.40


"He who oppresses the poor shows contempt for their Maker, but whoever is kind to the needy honors God."
Proverbs 14.31

 It's Time Folks. We've Been Called to Serve



We have at our hands and disposal all the technologies, talents, private and natural resources to help/assist the Haitian people in creating a masterpiece, as the first a 21st Century country in the world. This is not about the US  imposing our will about the what form of government that will best serve the Haitian people. It's not about a US military takeover. Historically, we've already done that more than once before. This is our opportunity to reorient the military from a global war reactionary force into a humanitarian force that provides security and organization to the most beleaguered place in the Americas.

This is not about imposing capitalism as a financial system when the people have nothing. It is not about the enriching the same corrupt elite families (with American passports) who have suppressed the people and obliterated their environment with aid from the US. They need everything. Healthcare, free public education, and an infrastructure that provides everyone access to these and other institutions. It is within our power to assist in teaching the Haitian people how to do it. There is no shortage of labor and people wanting to reconstruct their Haiti.

Haiti needs every little thing. Communication systems (wireless), roads and byways for transportation to move goods and services to accommodate the numerous disabled, homeless, and starving. Every human being has the right to food, clothing, housing, healthcare and an education. Yet, only a fraction of the money pledged and donated by the US, our American neighbors and global nations has reached Haiti.

If we, can clear and rebuild all the devastating rubble of the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and a field in Pennsylvania, then surely we can do the same in and for Haiti. I believe we must act individually and as a nation as if our own salvation depended upon it. For It Does.

Haiti and her people are far, far, more important than most people realize. I've been been saying this for 20 years now. Do you get it yet? Your agreement is not necessary for this to be true. Peace.

19 November 2010

The Politics of Mental Health

This is a moral issue of decency and equality. - Rosalynn Carter



In 2010, one out of every four individuals are living with a mental illness.
 This disease is still not even considered mainstream.


For a Bostonian, as a jet descends to land at Logan Airport, the IM Pei designed Kennedy Library, on the port side, is a Welcome Home sign, no matter what generation you were born in, or what your modern personal politics are today. Many things have changed in the intervening years since President Kennedy was assassinated. Yet so many social and political issues and challenges remain unresolved 50 years later. November 22, 1963 marked a turning point for the boomer generation until that fateful day of September 11, 2001.  It's a bit unnerving.

Twenty years have passed quickly since I walked through the JFK Library. The museum's use of technology, the period collections, the exhibits and artifacts have changed to accommodate visitors. A tour through the museum, conjures up memories. It's fun to see the old TVs, radios and kitchen appliances that form my earliest memories. Aqua GE products were all the rage, and because GE was the employer of three generations on my paternal side, we had the latest and greatest GE products, including a state of the art aqua kitchen in our first home.

Most of the eligible voters in the 1959 election have passed now. I'm struck by the black and white grainy images of the film introducing the visitor to the Library. The color film was obviously provided by the Kennedy family. Who else could afford such luxuries in the late 1940's and 1950's? Mostly, the film is just black and white and gray. Somewhat like the politics of today. We are as deeply divided as nation as in the 1959 election that pitted Nixon and Kennedy against each other. It was a very close race, not unlike the memorable Kerry versus Bush campaign. Kennedy stole Chicago, thus Illinois with some help from his friends, while Bush stole the state of Florida with some familial and US Supreme Court assistance. Let's just say, that both Democrats and Republicans, have a history of stealing Presidential (and other) elections. It's all considered fair and square. Politics, nationally and locally, is a brutal sport. Cheating is permitted, even encouraged. It's just the way it is, all idealism aside.

Looking at the electoral map of the US in 1959, which included the newly admitted states of Alaska and Hawaii, geographically the mainland had grown since the Civil War era. That was the last time,  the nation hugely divided against itself. But at that time, only white male US citizens were eligible to vote. Those words, Civil War, as it's commonly called, conjure up images of the citizens, the people themselves, as being responsible for the carnage of war within the borders. It ignores the myriad of forces at play and the riches to be gained by a few. It was the elite classes of both sides, the industrialists and the plantation owners, the divisive regional politicians who deadlocked the government and the military that drove this country into a devastating war on our own soil. The issue of States Rights versus the Federal Union, that the Founders tried to balance, are still competing ideals and forces that linger unresolved today.

The Grand Army of the Republic, comprised mostly of farm boys and immigrants, may have won that war militarily. The Union survived and trumped the secession movement. However, the agenda, the ideals of the Confederacy have taken root, flourished in vast regions and seems to have won by capturing the hearts, minds and souls of a modern era. The Republicans, including the Tea Party, claim Lincoln as their own. I can only imagine the number of times he's turned over in his grave as every political party invokes his name. Just watch the rantings of Fox News and its ratings, if you have any doubts.

Lincoln could not possibly be elected President of the United States of America today. Not only was he not photogenic, but he had a mental illness, too. He suffered a lifetime with debilitating depression during a horrific war that killed thousands of boys during each battle. And there were a substantial number of battles. His southern- belle, privileged wife, Mary Todd Lincoln, also had the misfortune to have a mental illness. She had manic-depression and was often incapacitated by migraine headaches, adoring her buying sprees so much, that she nearly bankrupted Abe while he managed a war.  After the assignation of the President in her presence, the reward for all her suffering and losses, was to be committed, institutionalized to an insane asylum for the rest of her life. This final act was accomplished by their only surviving child, a Harvard educated son, with no questions asked. Those with mental illness had no Constitutional rights. Women had none.

Why does any of this matter? The purpose bringing me to the Kennedy Library on a gray, Sunday November afternoon, is to hear Rosalynn Carter speak about "The Mental Health Crisis". She's the first modern day woman, a former First Lady, to use her position as the wife of a politician, to advocate for the legal and medical rights of individuals with mental illness. Mrs. Carter has dedicated a lifetime to eliminating the stigma of mental illness by proposing legislation to protect the victims of this disease and speaking out publicly about the treatments and interventions around this medical condition.

The former First Lady speaks softly with a pronounced southern drawl. She's impeccably dressed, without any lines or wrinkles on her face. She's petite and her inner wisdom and strength radiates the hall. She's a bit frail now, in her 80's, still writing, still making TV and public appearances, advocating, traveling alone and with her husband former President Carter, on world-wide humanitarian missions. Gone now are the days of simple golf and pleasurably pursuits of retired Presidents. Together, the Carters, despite their brief tenure, reinvented the role of former Presidents and First Ladies on a global level. Except for Carter's successor, President Reagan, as wildly popular as he was, late in his tenancy, he quickly succumbed to another mental illness, Alzheimer's Disease.

Every other succeding President and former First Lady, with a contingent of expensive Secret Service agents and their accompanied technologies, have earned multi-millions of dollars by writing their (or their pets) memoirs, jumping onto the speaking circuit and have morphed into global negotiators and humanitarians. When in US History has a former President or member of his family been assinated? None! The evidence of this absurdity is apparent when two Secret Service agents take the stage before Rosalynn Carter appears. I'm sure she'd feel safe without their presence, even being a Georgia Peach in Irish-Yankee territory. Against the advice of her husband's closest advisers, Mrs. Carter gave public testimony for legislation for medical and social parity on behalf of those with a mental illness. The Chair of the Committee was Ted Kennedy, the Lion of the Senate, who at the time was her husband's political nemesis within their shared Democratic Party. No one could dissuade her from her mission. Ol' Teddy must have admired her gumption and integrity. The proposed legislation was passed in 1978, but then was immediately scrapped by President Ronald Reagan. It took nearly 30 years until President George W. Bush, passedthe legislation took effect in 2002, protecting the medical, human and Constitutional rights of individuals with a mental illness. Such a waste of time. What a shame.

So on a gray November day, at the John F. Kennedy Library, Rosalynn Carter, protected by the Secret Service, a roped barrier, and a host of other perfunctory others, signs a copy of her latest book for me, "Within Our Reach: Ending the Mental Health Crisis". The book is a gift from a dear friend who understands my journey and mission and accompanied me on this occasion. Thank you, Rosalynn Carter, for champion the rights of those with a mental illness, the vulnerable and the often under-privileged. You embody dignity and respect.

Thank you for publicly telling Americans that it's more than OK to adore, love, marry and befriend someone with a mental illness. In your wake, there is more to do to educate and eliminate the remaining social and biological barriers. God bless you, your husband, Jimmy, and keep you safe. Bravo! You're a gracious and courageous woman, a model for those whose work is just beginning.

To each and every one of you, my Readers, loved ones and friends, may blessings and joy be yours at this time of thanks and giving. Happy Thanksgiving!

13 October 2010

Taking a Break

Some things just seem to arrive on schedule. This was waiting for me when I woke up this morning. I didn't request permission to reprint this inspiration from the Daily OM. I guess that is known as plagiarism. I hope I don't get caught. 

However, I wanted you all to know, that I requested to take this semester off from the ESOL program I've been with for almost 2 years. Fortunately, I was granted my request by the new Executive Director who was more than compassionate. She really understood that my health needs to be my priority. Too much stress and it gets my "Irish up." It was not an easy decision but Recovery is a very long process, longer than anyone can imagine or believe including myself. Time to focus my attention on rediscovering the simple joys of life and giving myself the space to heal from the deep, long depression and recent hospitalization that has dominated my being and life for far too long. We're still tweaking the meds but I need to take care of myself, better than I've been doing. So I'm calling for your help once again. Help keep me focused on what is important like you always have.


October 12, 2010
Sharing the Full Story
Calling on Friends
If we leave our friends out of our process when the going gets tough, our friendships can begin to feel shallow.


When we are going through a difficult time, we may hesitate to call even our best friends because we don't want to burden them with our troubles. This can be especially true if we've been going through a series of challenges, and we're starting to feel as if we sound like a broken record. It is important to remember that at times like these our friends sincerely want to be there for us whenever they can. We can always check with them to make sure it's a good time for them before we start talking, and if it's not a good time, we can call back at another time, or call another friend.

We know for ourselves that when we have a good friend, we don�t want them to suffer alone when we are just a phone call away. We want them to call us and share their sorrows with us, as well as their joys, because this is what sharing a life through friendship is about. It is at our lowest points that we really need to rely on our friends without worrying that we are a burden. If you are feeling self-conscious about having a tough time, you can bring this fact into the conversation by acknowledging it. Chances are your friend will reassure you that she is happy to be there for you. In fact, rather than feeling taxed, most of us feel better when we have helped a friend simply by listening empathically while they share their feelings.

Without our friends, we would be hard pressed to get through the tough times and celebrate the good ones. If we leave our friends out of our process when the going gets tough, our friendships can begin to feel shallow. On the other hand, when we include our friends in the full story of our life�the good, the bad, and the ugly�we build authentic relationships in which we can be who we truly are. When we do this, we invite our friends to bring their whole selves to the relationship as well.

For more information visit dailyom.com

10 October 2010

Student and Teacher Correspondance

The Student Speaks
Hi Denise,

I am going to miss you a lot, and yes, you have inspired me and others on level I , II and III . I hope you are OK. Everything happened so suddenly. We didn't have chance to say goodbye to you. There wasn't class last Thursday.
 
I've known you since the Summer of 2009 when I was on level I and you use to teach.  I have good memories!

I hope keep in touch with you. I sent you a request to be a friend on Facebook, but I did not find you on http://www.tea-with-dee.blogspot.com. Have a nice weekend.

Best wishes,
the Student







 

The Teacher's Long, Winded Response
Yes, you're right, it all happened so fast. It always does. The new Executive Director surprised me by offering me the teaching position back. Your professors, my friends and colleagues, made a convincing plea on my behalf. I am humbled by their credentials, their experiences, the respect and commitment they have for the students and each other. There is an amazing transformation of language skills that takes place in one year. I'm simply awed watching this process unfold and witnessing every ones success. So I'm taking the weekend to make a decision and structure it as a win-win for everyone.

I have a passion for teaching English to adults, like you. You inspire me. I really love what we all do together in the classroom. I know the faculty and the students are aligned as one. However, there have been a ridiculous amount of changes to the program in the nearly 2 years since I first became associated with it. It's my belief the Executive Director is a gifted and experienced leader and professor. She has been right in both of her decisions about me, to let me go and then to invite me back. I must confess though, I felt an immediate sense of relief to be "relieved of my duties as a teacher". It felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from my shoulders. That's a sure sign to step back and reassess the entire situation.
 
Honestly, the truth is I'm still recovering from a serious, lingering health issue - a very long and deep depression episode, that required me to be (partially) hospitalized for four weeks this summer. This has never happened to me before. I continued to teach, against the advise of the medical professionals. It was a risk I took to fulfill my obligation to both the class and to a contract. But it takes a very long time to heal from a hospitalization, much longer than most people would expect or believe. For the wounds are invisible to almost everyone. With this disease, the joy of what you're doing, the joy of living, really gets sucked out of your life. 

A full recovery of my health and well being is my first priority. As a single woman, it takes longer and is more strenuous without family or devoted caregivers. Fortunately, I'm blessed with wonderful, loyal girlfriends with an amazing capacity for love, compassion and simple kindnesses. They helped and supported me during my recent hospitalization crisis. To paraphrase Morrie, in Tuesdays With Morrie, he wouldn't know how he'd ever cope with his disease, ALS, without his devoted, attentive and giving family. Too many people with psychiatric diseases and disabilities know intimately about what's it like. They understand and feel this absence intensely. We learn to cope the best we can.  It's time for me to rediscover the joys of living that ignites passion and creativity.


I have the weekend to think about the challenges ahead, to review the past organizational events and the resulting instability, including my own. Writing to you has been a very cathartic experience that silences the little chatterbox in my head.

Where I've discovered the best decisions are made, is in the heart of serenity, peace and gentleness. That's my focus this weekend. That, also, means I remain open to more surprises! 

Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to share "tea" with you. I hope you don't mind if I post it to Tea With Dee

You're amazing! Keep on reading! Thank God, it's a long weekend! I hope you enjoy it, too!

With warm wishes to you,
the Teacher
Denise

PS. Hopefully, this will initiate some comments.




 

02 October 2010

Love: Daily Word October 2, 2010

Now faith, hope and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is Love.
1-Corinthians 13:30


When Jesus spoke of Love, he used the following four words translated from Greek. Can you guess which one he used most often?
  1. storge is Familial Love
  2. philia is the Love for a Friend
  3. eros is Sensual Love
  4. agape is God's Love - the highest form of Love of all!
The word Jesus used most often was agape. No surprise there! Here's my edited take on today's Word.


My life is a refection of the Love of God.

God's Love is my foundation, the source from which I draw my strength, and the power that enables me to live in the awareness of God's presence. I'm blessed to have experienced so many types of Love, but it is agape that gives each Love experience, meaning and substance. 

When I pray for others, I express agape. When I rest in God's presence, I experience agape. God's Love empowers and completes me. Peace.

28 September 2010

About Women

 This comes from Cindy, a woman who can fit more in a day, than I can in a week!

I think this is one of the truest things I have ever read.  To the women in my life... Thank you for being you.





The Clock

                                               

God doesn't give you the people you want; He gives you the people you NEED... to help you, to hurt you, to leave you, to love you and to make you into the person you were meant to be.
I LOVE YOU!!!!!

One Flaw In Women

Women have strengths that amaze men.....

They bear hardships and they carry burdens,

but they hold happiness, love and joy.

They smile when they want to scream.

They sing when they want to cry.

They cry when they are happy

and laugh when they are nervous.

They fight for what they believe in.

They stand up to injustice.

They don't take "no" for an answer

when they believe there is a better solution.

They go without so their family can have.

They go to the doctor with a frightened friend.

They love unconditionally.

They cry when their children excel

and cheer when their friends get awards.

They are happy when they hear about

a birth or a wedding.

Their hearts break when a friend dies.

They grieve at the loss of a family member,

yet they are strong when they

think there is no strength left.

They know that a hug and a kiss

can heal a broken heart.

Women come in all shapes, sizes and colors.

They'll drive, fly, walk, run or e-mail you

to show how much they care about you.

The heart of a woman is what

makes the world keep turning.

They bring joy, hope and love.

They have compassion and ideas.

They give moral support to their

family and friends.

Women have vital things to say

and everything to give.

HOWEVER, IF THERE IS ONE FLAW IN WOMEN,
 
IT IS THAT THEY FORGET THEIR WORTH.  
 

04 September 2010

College Depression: Warning Signs and Statistics

Giving credit where credit is due. This blog comes from Therese J. Borchard


Since it is going back-to-school season, I thought I'd educate you on some alarming statistics about depression among college students. Here are the facts, just the facts:  
  • One out of every five young people and one out of every four college students and adults suffer from some form of diagnosable mental illness.
  • About 19 precent of young people contemplate or attempt suicide each year.
  • Suicide is the third leading cause of death among people ages 15-24, and the second leading cause of death in college students ages 20-24.
  • Over 66 percent of young people with a substance use disorder have a co-occurring mental health problem.
  • Teens diagnosed with depression are five times more likely to attempt suicide than adults.
  • Over two-thirds of young people do not talk about or seek help for mental health problems.
  • 44 percent of American college students reported feeling symptoms of depression.
  • From 1980 to 1986, the suicide rate for African-American males ages 15-19 increased more than 100 percent.
  • Four out of every five young people that contemplate or attempt suicide exhibit clear warning signs.
  • 80-90 percent of people that seek the necessary form of mental health treatment can function the way they used to.
  • Stereotypes are one of the largest barriers preventing young people from seeking the help they need.
  • An estimated 5 million young females suffer from eating disorders each year, and eating disorders are the deadliest mental illness, claiming more lives than any other illness.

Changes in feelings such as fear and anger are a normal part of life. Personal situations, such as a family divorce, loss of a job, or strained relationships with family or friends can cause emotional stress, thus making a person feel sad or blue. These are not unusual reactions.

However, certain thoughts and feelings associated with some experiences may be warnings of more serious problems and the need for mental health intervention. It is not always easy to spot these warning signs, or figure out what they mean, so qualified mental health professionals should be consulted in order to make an accurate diagnosis.

The following feelings and experiences may be warning signs that you or a friend may be dealing with more than just everyday stress:
* finding little or no pleasure in life
* feeling worthless or extremely guilty
* crying a lot for no particular reason
* withdrawing from other people
* experiencing severe anxiety, panic or fear
* having very low energy
* losing interest in hobbies and pleasurable activities
* having too much energy, having trouble concentrating or following through on plans
* feeling easily irritated or angry
* experiencing racing thoughts or agitation
* hearing voices or seeing images that other people do not experience
* believing that others are plotting against you
* wanting to harm yourself or someone else
 If you recognize one or more of these signs -- in yourself, or someone you know -- PLEASE, SEEK HELP.


One of Beyond Blue followers had this edited comment to make. I feel his insight is quite relevant.


Joe Gonzalez
September 2, 2010 7:10 AM

Adolescence is a very trying time. The child is stretching, physically, mentally and spiritually to pass over from childhood to young adulthood. This period has many trials and tribulations. Rebellion from established authority, peer pressure, fads, an utter misunderstanding of what the adult world is really about (or gross misconceptions), and an instinctive, natural urge to break free and be one's own person. ( Be it man or woman.) Cast upon this are passing ideological figures weaved into the minds of the young by minds, slightly less older than them. Hordes of these are malignant thoughts, so now, you have the recipe for personal catastrophes. 

College is much more demanding, and generally more impersonal than High School, where many of these tendencies start to rear their unsettling heads. The pressures of college are accompanied by the subconscious and conscious questions that plague many young adults.
" Where is this leading me?  I don't really want to have a 'place' in a world that's so self-serving, inhospitable, egotistical and greedy. Does this college mean that it'll prepare me for a place in a cubicle where I'll probably spend the best part of my life? Perhaps hauling in a decent salary, but a salary to what end?  I really don't know what my vocation is, and here I'm being rushed to pick a career."
The popular here are the brutes with a devil-may-care attitude. The studious are laughed off as eggheads. The decent and well-brought up, the ones with ethics and a moral sense, are put down. The world that awaits me is a dog-eat-dog chaos, where everything is upside down. The truly important questions in life are ignored for ephemeral and superfluous achievements. Given all of this - it's much more common than suspected - but isn't studied enough by competent authorities. All the pressure in college is to ' Succeed, succeed, succeed ', at whatever the cost. It can and often does, bring about a breakdown. 

Nobody understands these breakdowns, especially family, " Why ? You should be doing fine, you've got everything you need and more."  They don't understand the immense pressure cooker collegians are going through. Some parents and college counselors talk theory. " You should be better adjusted." " You have the IQ to make it through." " Why are you becoming withdrawn? " There are nary, little effective answers. If that pressure cooker doesn't let off the steam it needs, it's going to blow, and blow with such force as to bring the whole edifice down. 

Our bluntly imposed national philosophy of " Full steam ahead, a wonderful world and life awaits you " is belied by the student's real, but unexpressed Spirit. Whence come all the difficulties, the deepening psychological infirmities, and the young adult's mistaken belief of a very, sad way out. Suicides are preventable. I hope I have added something of aid to this problem, and how-to-do-it better with this comment.

Read more: http://blog.beliefnet.com/beyondblue/2010/09/warning-signs-of-college-depre.html#ixzz0yNbsTJj6




25 August 2010

Route Out: A Variation on A Theme

Dear Readers,
It's been a busy day editing some earlier blogs in my drafts folder. I'm struck that I had more to say during week one in recovery than anything I wrote in subsequent weeks. The schedule was grueling, zapped much of my energy by early evening. I went to bed very early. I steadily began to feel some strength return. I discovered I wrote several other blogs in draft but they precede the summer. Maybe I'll finish them soon or store them away for future posting. Their titles are snappy. I

There is an original story spinning in my head about ghosts, set in a Gothic background, where life and death does not seem so black and white. Everyone loves a good ghost story and I have one to share that is immensely entertaining. But before I undertake writing it, I want to leave you with my impressions of my mid-summer dream. 

Much of the following blog is contained in today's other postings. You'll may find many repetitions on the same theme. They're important and need repeating. Nothing like a teacher to drive a point home. I must learn how to organize these blogs better, categorize or tag them and hopefully list them in an easy to access fashion. Blogger must have more functionality than I'm using. I'll learn. Your comments are welcome. Remember tea is always a dialogue. Drop in any time and spread the word.
Peace to you all,
Dee
_____________________________________________________________________________

While friends and family enjoy and plan their summer vacations, I embarked on a summertime journey. This severe depressive episode has weakened my body, mind, and spirit thus my social life. So off to the partial hospitalization program I go. In hindsight, I should have done this a year ago. This is a courageous decision as my good friends tell me that I'm brave. This is true.

Each day, we are asked what our goal for the day is and my response is "A good cry". The cry I long for though, escapes me. Although, the first day I feel the well inside me begin to leak while I am walking alone. I refer to this as my daily exercise because it is a good five minute walk from one end of the hospital to the other. Naturally, the cafeteria is located at the other end of the hospital. I'm off to meet the smokers who have just inhaled their lunch and have bolted for the fresh air. We're told to walk down to the highway entrance in order to smoke. Yet these young adults have staked a position along a wall far enough away from the formal main entrance of the old building that houses the mental health department. I join them, not proud of the fact, that I'm smoking after quitting for so long. Without the mentally ill, cigarette manufacturers would be without a market in the US. However, smoking is still a social activity among us. A dopamine enhancer. I pull the sunglasses over my wet eyes and join them. Our conversations flow smoothly as I follow them around learning the timing and ropes of the program. Day one passes, no tears are shed.

A sense of routine is being established as I rise at 6 am to be in Salem by 9. It takes that long to shower, iron, dress to have the morning coffee and breakfast before the drive. I'm trying different routes to the hospital, convinced that I will find a quicker commute avoiding the local traffic snarls. By the end of day two, I settle on the fastest route home. The highlight of the day is when I meet the psychiatrist assigned to my case. Let's just call her Dr. Michelle. Her quiet, gentle appearance in the room takes me by surprise. She's low key, very attractive, youthful, tall, lean, and fashionably cool wearing jeans. She walks gracefully as I follow her to an office in the Adolescents Day Program. Here about 20 young people under the age of 18 are gathered creatively in an arts program under the careful observance of a handsome pony-tailed man. There are more kids in this program than are in ours. I take this as a hopeful sign. Early detection means early treatment means a higher quality of life. The kids look up from their arts and crafts following me with their eyes as the doctor sits down in her office. She quickly puts me at ease, informing me of her close professional relationship with my trusted psychiatrist. "I understand you are one of his favorite patients. He emailed me about you." The doctor asks me questions. As I'm answering her questions, as I start to speak, tears begin to flow from the deep well inside of me. We discuss my options and a psycho-pharmaceutical strategy is proposed. I agree.

Dr. Michelle speaks about ECT as another option. (Please, read the posting "ECT: Two Women", March 28, 2010. An award-winning animation by Laura Piraino)  I've learned ECT is a viable solution that works. However, it requires a very strong family and personal support system of care to be effective. The logistics of finding available, attentive, dedicated caregivers is insurmountable for an unmarried, middle age woman without children or a significant other. I pass on ECT now.

Personally, I find it distressing that psychiatrists are referred to and are relegated to the role as psycho-pharmacologists today. Though, I never liked the term "Shrink" either. I believe it invalidates their years of training and their enormous educational time and expenses invested in the competitive study of medicine. I feel it invalidates their professional experiences, and their special calling to a branch of medicine little understood or appreciated by their medical colleagues. Psychiatry is the art of listening, hearing, observing, it's part science, based in hypotheses that's standing on firmer ground as neurological and systemic research of the diseased brain becomes better understood. That is if the entire mental health system doesn't collapse under the burden of a growing demand for mental health services.

 

Psychiatry is always the first for budget cuts, it was the first medical branch to be dismantled in the 80's and the 90's, the first to feel the effects of Wall Street's scheme of privatizing medicine, who are forced to deal with insurance companies that on a good day are basically unregulated banks staffed by low paid, uneducated agents intent on denying patient claims that are a matter of life and death. Of course, they're just doing what their high paying executives tell them to do. Depression is a very, very expensive disease for a patient (and their families) as a psychiatric condition. Let's not forget the pharmaceutical companies who are primarily focused on profitability. Most research is government (tax payer) funded with lobbying by drug companies that allows these tax-payer-funded research costs to be passed onto the consumers at exorbitant drug prices. And what's with their advertising? I remember the days when advertisements by drug companies, gambling of all sorts, lawyers, erectile dysfunction and medical institutions were forbidden to advertise to the public. Now they dominate cable, print and internet marketing with budgets in the billions of dollars, filling the void left by cigarette and hard liquor commercials.

In the meantime, medical schools around the country and around the world, are producing fewer and fewer doctors trained in the specialty of psychiatry. So the number of days in-patient (10) is strictly regulated by insurance companies. In-Patients are barely stable when their 10 days in-house hospitalizations are up. They are transferred  to a PHP to be discharged (ready or not) within 10 days. This barely is enough time for the doctors, nurses and social workers to do their job. That they manage is a testament to their commitment. That patients survive this incorrigible system is a testament to their courage. Those patients who talk get better results than those who do not. We bond to support each other with our commitment to get our essence back and to stabilize physically and emotionally.

By the end of the day, I realize that I'm going to have to be very patient with myself, telling the group, I met my objective. I had a little cry. My well is very deep though. Two young 20-somethings are discharged that afternoon.

That evening, Illa, calls in with support that includes a good kick in the ass, too. "You will make this program work for you! You are going to do it. And that's that!" Though I hardly feel like laughing, she has called upon our past experiences, which brings a smile to my face. I go to bed early. I'm exhausted.

Day three starts with the same goal, to have a good cry. One of our group, that includes another new member, quips "May I ask, what does a bad cry mean?" I laugh, a sign my humor may be returning. By now I'm used to the dirty walls, the worn sofas, the clickety-clack of one of the ancient, struggling air conditioners, and the white noise of the fan. It's all designed to reduce the stuffiness of the room. I learn to bring a sweater despite the rising temperatures outside hovering around 90 degrees. The bulletin boards in the hallway are a chaotic collection of fliers focused on domestic violence, rape and substance abuse. There is nothing about depression or bipolar or similar sources of information, or special hot-lines or support groups posted. I take note of this because every person in the program is at some stage of severe depression.

There are two dorm-sized refrigerators in the "kitchenette" that offers bitter decaffeinated coffee. One is for the brown bag lunch you must bring. The other refrigerator is empty but contains an abundance of tiny half and half thimbles. The same two apples sit in a basket untouched. I take note of a list of food stuffs available to the insured guests. Among these are yogurt, OJ, cereal, milk, etc. so I inquire about getting a yogurt and an OJ on this morning. Shortly, thereafter, an office administrator brings me two small yogurts and a cup sized OJ, which she pilfers from the adolescent program next door. She tells me a food supply order will arrive the next morning. I thank her. 

With an increase dosage of a mood stabilizer, three small meals a day and with the series of  45 minute sessions followed by a 15 minute breaks, I begin to stabilize. It's a mystery to me how or why this therapeutic program works because the topics of "conversations" are not unusual. Stress and time management. Dealing with change. Self-esteem. Cognitive strategies. The copy quality of the handouts and the "from memory" presentations of three social workers tells me, the same "curriculum" has been used for a long time. Only one, talks "at" us. This I find to be an annoying style (not a judgment of the worker or content quality) but I mentally redecorate the room and try not to dose off. This is not true of a couple of the other patients in the group. Sleeping or nodding-off is tolerated. By the end of day four, I've calculated how much one-on -one face time with the various professionals I've had. There are apologies, of course. I understand they'll get to me sooner or later as they manage priorities. I believe it was St. Augustine who said, "The reward of patience is patience." I wonder, once again, if my appearance and presence are working against me. I rarely appear publicly like I'm in crisis. But then again, my public appearances are restricted when I'm crisis. Ultimately, I will and do receive a great deal of special attention, time, consideration and powerful support from the all the professionals involved with my case. By the end of nine days, I don't feel very confident about leaving the program because I'm just beginning to feel stable. Therefore, arrangements are made for me to attend another complimentary day program in Lynn.

Thursday night, the night I have a contract to teach, will be a real test of my stamina because the bridge work being done in Lawrence requires a different route into the city. The ESL class goes exceedingly well as we watch YouTube clips and read about the origins of the tango. We continue with reading "Tuesdays With Morrie" that focuses on the importance of family in dealing with a chronic and degenerative disease. Morrie states unequivocally that without his family, he doesn't know if he'd be able to cope. This strikes at the core of my loneliness and fear. My own family knows nothing about the partial hospitalization and for the most part still have an incredibly unresponsive attitude about mental illness. This saddens me because this disease is genetic, like getting blue or brown or hazel eyes. There is no choice involved and one doesn't really know until college or later whether the gene is yours or not.

I do not function well on six hours of sleep so I awake exhausted on day five. It's a Friday and will mark the turning point for me. There are two new members added to the group. The agenda for the day includes a presentation on Spirituality. This catches my attention. Enter the female Chaplin of the hospital. Let's just call her Jane. She is professional and feminine in appearance, beautiful with her chic framed glasses. Her presence, her inner strength is dynamically tangible. She literally lights up the room. They'll be no sleeping during her presentation. She gets it about mental illness, it strikes at the very essence of your being. Your soul, your spirit. Only those who have experienced deep loss know the truth of this.


Later I would learn that Jane would like to meet me the following week. I readily agree and we have an amazing conversation where I left her office felling validated, welcomed, and with a respected, resourceful  woman to remind me, that above all else, I was to find diverse ways to nurture my soul and spirit and to incorporate this into my daily ritual. She reminds me, that God believes I'm awesome, specially designed and I'm magical. He cries because I cry. This simple perspective of being loved for who I am touches me like nothing in recent memory. I'm charting it out, Jane. Getting in touch with those places and spaces to be part of the joy of nature and the works of the divine.

Where do you find peace to witness the glories with God? Do you remember to give thanks when you do?

 



Entitlement

I wrote this piece in July while events were fresh in my mind.

Every day there is an email from Paula waiting for me. On some days, I'm so tired from the group partial hospitalization program (PHP), that it takes all my effort to make dinner. But when I check my email, there it is, some inspiration or note from her. She is a lifeline of belief and hope. One who gets it. Paula knew I was in trouble, in despair, before I was willing to admit it to myself. There is just something cruel about being stoic. Whether it is a New England trait or one that I inherited from the Irish, I don't really know or care.

Stoic. "Of or pertaining to the school of philosophy founded by Zeno of Citrian around 300 BC, who taught that wise people should be free from passion, unmoved by joy or grief, and submit without complaint to unavoidable necessity or natural law." Well, screw Zeno, whoever he was. His was probably an institution of depressives. Wisdom isn't a 21st century American value or achievement. Yet stoicism lingers in our culture.


Appearances can be deceiving. I isolate. I lose interest in writing. There is no joy or desire to participate in festivities. The mental gymnastics of going from point A to point B overwhelms. The idea of groups or crowds nauseating. Finally, the hopelessness and the seriousness of the situation strikes like lightening. 

For the first week in the hospital, I have one major goal, to be in a safe place to cry. I wait and participate as the case managers lead us through topic after topic. We're approaching the weekend and still no tears. When will I feel relief? Finally they come. Tears- wave upon waves in great heaves that could fill buckets. What finally did it? What cracked the protective shell? First it was being seen by Jane. In the movie 'Avatar',there is a statement of recognition, love and compassion, "You see me."  Being 'seen' touches my essence. Later the same day, I tap into anger. How? Someone in a meeting perceives me as "being entitled". That one really gets me. Entitled. Damn right. OCD. I wouldn't get the word out of my head all weekend.

Here's the thing about entitlement. It's either sourced out of low self-esteem or high self-esteem. I am entitled and so aren't you! Entitled to the highest quality medical care. Entitled to be treated with respect. Entitled to love and compassion. Entitled to be myself. Entitled to security. Yes, entitled.

During the sweltering drive home, powerful emotions boil over. My Irish is up! A cooling dip in the community pool refreshes my soul, restoring some balance. Being seen. Being entitled. Being embraced. Being with friends/loved ones whether via email, text, telephone, visits or an outing. These are all forms of kindness that eventually leads one out of hell on earth. Recovery from any illness is impossible to do alone. All praise and honor to those who do the work of the Lord and our Blessed Mother here on Earth. Gracias!










Blogs and Internet Sites

Though I was not writing much this summer, I was reading and researching. Of course, I'm not the only blogger writing about the spiritual journey of an individual with a psychiatric medical condition. There are other voices in the wilderness. Many have "monetized" their blogs and have become affiliated with larger sites, garnering a wider readership. This could happen to me, too. What fun that would be. Getting paid to write about a subject I know intimately. You may want to check out these sites for inspiration and information. Sharing is a good thing.

Beyond Blue by Therese Borchard (Click on the Blogs Tab)

Middle Age Suicide — The Good Men Project Magazine


Reach for the Stars (Jayzee's Story)

Depression TV by WebMed







24 August 2010

Summer 2010

And so the summer is rounding the corner to Labor Day. Two weekends left before the community pool closes and the beach parking fees are suspended. The beach club set is packing up for another year. Chairs, umbrellas, towels and sporting equipment are stored away until next year. There are some goodbyes to cherished summertime friends until we meet again on the sands to catch up with the births, deaths and marriages within our clans. The collegiate adults among us, can't wait to return and arrive on their campuses. We say adios to them and catch you on parents weekend and over the holidays. Don't forget to write or email or text. Go have fun, for these are the days of your lives, to make memories and friendships that will sustain you throughout your lives. It's quite joyful to watch your eyes sparkle and broad smiles crease your faces as you anticipate the start of another school year. Go in peace and don't forget to get an education in the process!

For me, dear readers, this has been a long difficult summer with health challenges. A serious depressive episode, long in the work, gripped me and sent me spiraling downward. Crashing. What triggered it, you may wonder? With bipolar depression, its hard to pinpoint exactly when or where or why an episode begins. It just is, what it is. (Personally, I deplore that statement, but there are occasions where it's fitting.) This summer was one of them.

I've made no secret about being partially hospitalized. I believe being honest without burdening others is what's important. However, the triggers were multiple and it was time for me to face a new reality and not delude myself any longer. I'm getting too old for that. Time is too precious a commodity to waste on maintaining illusions and wanting things to be different. My desire is to live without anger, bitterness, shame or a need to manipulate people or situations. We all have a spin on our life stories, don't we? I chose not to have hurtful feelings control or influence my inner world. My journey here on Earth, at this time is history is a spiritual mission, not a secular one. That's been obvious to me for a very long time. So this summer, I put the baggage down that's accumulated over the past 15 years since I first was diagnosed and started treatment for this incurable, hereditary disease. Stigmas be damned!

Wait. It's treatable you've heard, but it is NOT like diabetes which it is compared to all the time. It is not like cancer or heart disease. It is far worse because it not only attacks the body (the whole body) but one's emotions, one's mind (if you will), and it mightily attacks the soul or spirit of the individual. No other disease packs the whammy of an attack on the spirit. Except maybe alcoholism or drug addiction. These two common afflictions are known as a duo-diagnosis of depression.

Thank God, for my dear grandmother who sat me and my siblings down, one by one, and told us explicitly that we carried the gene for alcoholism. We were warned and I heeded her warning. However, this summer I met a number of individuals of all ages and walks of life who were unable to avoid this tragedy. They are now sober and alcohol/narcotic free. They're hyper-vigilant with the support of AA/NA. However, there's no such nationwide - world wide organization for individuals with depression. However, go to an AA meeting and quickly one realizes that the elephant in the room, (not talked about)  is... Depression. Recovery from any illness is a process not an event. As any cancer survivor will tell you.

So the journey out of a severe depression is a not achievable without crying, feeling hurt and giving voice to anger. With a regimented routine, empathetic and compassionate professionals, an ever changing group of individuals fighting a common enemy, a commitment, determination and a reliable support system of friends and family, recovery is probable. It takes time, a lot more time, than you might guess.

So what did I learn this summer? First, I had to put my stoicism, stubbornness, and a self-reliant attitude aside. I needed help but in order to get help, I'd have to humble myself and ask for it, something I've historically have found difficult to do. I learned that being "high-functioning" doesn't mean denying myself a therapeutic medical program. I'd bumped along for way too many months and then was bombarded with a series of triggers beyond my control. I felt scared, being unable to care for myself, and surviving in isolation. This is no way to live but it is what depression does to people. Being able to tolerate way too much suffering, seen as "high functioning", courageous, and with an attractive public appearance is a handicap. Heeding the advice of my closest friends, I was able to be forthright with my doctor, who recognized my distress and sent me off to a local hospital, as a day-patient.

So while everyone else went on or prepared for their summer vacations, I was doing a daily tour of the psychiatric departments. Two different hospitals. Two cities. Two medical programs. Four weeks. How or why these day hospitalizations work, baffles me. But I'm regaining my strength, able to go out and socialize plus I've collected a green folder, an inch thick of handouts, and many inspiring insights to write about.

My desire and pleasure in writing has returned. I missed our tea times together. Two weeks until Labor Day. I'm on "vacation" so I intend to take advantage of it. Stay tuned.





13 August 2010

Letter to Congress: Physicians and Hospitals Need Protection Too

I'm back. Still recuperating. Lots to share but I'm on "vacation" at the moment. Here's some food for thought especially if you require medical care now or in the future. Letter to Congress: Physicians and Hospitals Need Protection Too

02 August 2010

Indifference

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness.-Galatians 5:22
She enters the room where we are gathered. All light, energy and focus. Unlike other presenters, she moves into the area where we sit, intent with her eye contact. Fashionable glasses frame her brown eyes but it's her Presence that catches my attention. Enthusiasm.  Directness. Compassion. Intelligence. All this and more are reflected in her eyes and body language as she leans into the space of unseen boundaries and introduces herself as the Chaplain of the hospital. The topic listed on the agenda for Friday is "Spirituality".

As she explains her role, her vocation, as the only Chaplain at the hospital, she carefully outlines how her services are prioritized. Everywhere she is in demand, except she is only one person. Thus her time is concentrated on where she is needed the most. ER. Trauma. ICU. Catastrophic situations where death has arrived or is imminent. Quite a calling in service to the Divine. She reiterates a story, that she must have shared before.

Upon her arrival at the hospital, every department called requesting help. Oncology. Children. Geriatrics. Maternity. You name the branch and specialty of medicine, they all had a need. However, recognizing that she could not spread herself too thin, she had to draw the boundaries where she her presence could serve those in the most traumatic, life-altering situations.  She needed to confine her ministry to those most in need. After settling in, she made her way to the psychiatric department and inquired as to why they had not contacted her. The director, let's call her Mary O'Malley, asked why in the world would they need her? It seems, Mary, like so many others of a certain generation and mindset are confused about the differences between religion and spirituality. Religion is the institutionalization of a system of beliefs. Spirituality, in my opinion, are the qualities of the Spirit, that which nurtures the soul.

Grabbing a marker for the white board she inquires about being human. There's the body, the mind, and the spirit or soul. Mental illness, unlike other diseases, attacks all three: the body, the mind and the spirit all at once! Ah, hah, I say to myself, she really gets it about mental illness! No other disease except depression attacks the soul, the spirit of an individual as it ravages the body, the mind and its emotional state. To have one's spirit sickened by this disease is its most devastating element.

To underscore her point she asks us to describe how our spirit feels when it is in depression. The group members offer; hopelessness, grief, despair, resignation, weak, helpless, isolated, suicidal. "What else? What's the worse attack of them all?" I'm sitting there knowing, I know the answer to this question, but I'm unable to pull it from my memory. She waits. There is silence. Then she turns to the board and writes one word:  INDIFFERENCE!

Yes, that's it. Indifference is the complete opposite of love and faith. Some falsely believe that hate is the opposite of love or that fear is the opposite of faith. But it's not. For love and hate are passionate feelings. Indifference is the domain of man's inhumanity to man. Indifference is the domain where suicide and murder occurs. Indifference is devoid of and is the renunciation of the fruits of the Spirit. May none of you ever be or feel indifferent for this is the saddest state of them all.

Thank you, Jane for your inspiration, wisdom, compassion and reigniting the spark within my soul.



Indifference, unconcern, listlessness, apathy, insensibility; all imply lack of feeling. Indifference denotes an absence of feeling or interest; unconcern, an absence of concern or solicitude, a calm or cool indifference in the face of what might be expected to cause uneasiness or apprehension; listlessness, an absence of inclination or interest, a languid indifference to what is going on about one; apathy,  a profound intellectual and emotional indifference suggestive of faculties either naturally sluggish or dulled by emotional disturbance, mental illness, or prolonged sickness; insensibility,  an absence of capacity for feeling or of susceptibility to emotional influences.