After Mental Health Treatment - What? Fellowship Place Gets it Right

Ten years ago, I toured a community with the following mission:

To serve adults living with mental illness by offering a full range of therapeutic support and rehabilitation services that promote independence, wellness, and a meaningful life.

This community is called Fellowship Place, and it represents what can happen when people come together to look past medical treatment alone - and add housing, purpose, structure, and community to the picture.

At the time, I wished Ben might be interested in living in such a caring, well-thought-out community. He wasn't. But now, ten years later, he is open to the idea.

The only problem is: it could take a decade before a place opens up. I wish I'd put him on the waiting list ten years ago. It might take that much time.

We need more places like this.

Hear why: 

"Mom, My Future Seems So Bleak": Feeling the Heartbreak

My son. He is trying to hard to get his life back. If he weren't trying so hard, maybe then I could detach - let go just a little bit more than I've already trained myself to do.

But it's heartbreaking. For me, sure - but mostly for him.

The trouble with regaining some sanity (or sobriety, for addicts) is that your vision, when examining your life, clears. That, unfortunately, can hurt like hell.

I can feel why, sometimes, it may feel easier to just fall down the rabbit hole of non-treatment and go back to a problem that's more familiar: getting out of the hospital.

Square One (or two, or three), when you've climbed so far ahead of it in the past, is really a  hard spot to land back on. Ouch.

The trouble with regaining some sanity (or sobriety, for addicts) is that your vision, when examining your life, clears. That, unfortunately, can hurt like hell.

That's part of why a fresh obstacle to Ben's renewed recovery journey (after the Covid-19 fall) is now: getting clean. He has returned to smoking pot - never a good sign - which brings all the usual "side effects": lies, denial, the illusion of accomplishment, poor decisions, loss of money, lack of motivation.

Shit.

Road to recovery…Far from Clear

The first signs were during a home visit - halfway through a fantastic visit, after Ben "took a walk to Starbucks", he returned home completely stoned. And denying it. I took him back home and told him he could lose his placement in the group home, and also I would not be allowing him to visit until the truth - and a plan of action - came through.

One day later, a very contrite Ben called to apologize, in tears, and ready to tell the truth and "get clean"...and he did - for 35 whole days. He even went to meetings, and shared for the first time ever.  Yeah, maybe "it's only pot", but for Ben it spells disaster.

Then...a relapse. He  took 2 hits from "some girl on the street corner" (after refusing once, but then he caved) because "I thought it wouldn't really make me seem stoned, and it might make me feel better about my life."

Another call from his Group Home.

Another frantic message of denial from Ben

He can lose his housing. He lost his home visit. I feel stuck in a cycle of Groundhog Day-like repetition.

I gave Ben a day to come clean with the truth - and he did. We talked for over an hour. He is so angry with himself.  He regrets giving in to temptation. He says all the right things...but he has said them before.

Still - what breaks me apart are two things: his voice, cracking with tears and emotion (rare for those suffering with schizophrenia), and his statement:"

Mom, My future just feels so bleak."

Oh. My.

He has lost everything he works for years to build - his work, his car, his friends, his sanity, his place in our home -- and months of his life. Unemployment is a huge blow - I've been there, and so has my husband, and maybe so have you - but imagine going through it when you've also "woken up" from the longest hospital stay of your life, to find that your world has fallen apart.

And now - some steps we've all agreed to, to provide more purpose and structure. Yes, he wants to work again someday - that waiter job was everything to him (but can he work? with hands trembling from Haldol? we shall see) - but for now, all I can do is remind him that:

• he has rebuilt his life before, and can do it again

• there are people who want to help

• Getting too cocky, and thinking you can get sober alone, seldom works for him - and is often a  sign of danger.

• We love him

• For now, it is good to sign up for some activities offered to him, even if they fall short of the full-time work he used to have.

Here's where we are. Ben is in a group home. He is rebuilding again after a 5 1/2 month hospitalization.

The Four Pillars, our present day version in this new Recovery Journey:

Treatment: Haldol by injection (different medication for Ben than the one he'd done so well on - in my eyes - before, but he swears he "likes it better".

Plus Side: Injection form much easier to manage (time-release)

Minus side: I am seeing tremors (could become permanent). Ben hides these, and denies their existence.

Structure: Some. Group Home meetings, and now some "Anonymous" meetings. He needs much more structure. Don't we all. He fills his time taking long walks, but his life is too aimless (considering pre-Covid he worked full-time)

Purpose: He was stripped of it when Covid cost him his job. Purposelessness sucks.

Community/Love: Well, he still has us, his family. But now it's weekend visits, and only if he is clean and sober. He has lost the right to visit us more than once - along with my trust.

So - we move ahead. With new steps. One day at a time.

2 days clean/sober, and he has also learned some things. Hopefully they will stick.  

Breakdown: The Right Title for a Much-Needed Book

I've often wondered what treating patients with SMI (Serious Mental Illness) is like for medical professionals. I want to know, too, what the intake process is like for clinicians, and whether they feel as frustrated with the system as we family members do. This book answers these questions, and more.

Through it all, author Lynn Nanos, L.I.C.S.W., shows such concern, knowledge, and caring for people like my son Ben (who is diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia), that I kept wishing she were on the team treating and caring for Ben right now.

I had to sharpen my pencil several times, I underlined so many facts and observations.

Five Shocking Facts

Five things that either stuck with me or surprised me - and, after nine hospitalizations for my son Ben, I thought I knew it all...

1. Often the "easier-to-manage" psychiatric patients get admitted, instead of those who need the help the most, because they are cheaper and less difficult to manage.  Those admitted include "malingerers" who just want to get off the street for "three hots and a cot" and can fake psychosis.

2. Connecticut (where I live) is one of only three states in the U.S. (along with Maryland and Massachusetts) that do not have laws allowing AOT (Assisted Outpatient Treatment), something that most definitely would benefit my son.

3. Yes, untreated schizophrenia can increase the incidence of violence.  And often, when the voices tell a schizophrenia patient to harm someone, it's someone they know...and usually love.

4. Regarding RLC's (Recovery Learning Communities, often staffed by "peer specialists who endorse the possibility that signs of psychosis are normal"):  " Researchers found no significant benefits...to help the seriously mentally ill population"- of which my son is one. I live in fear of those who would try to "teach" him to get off his meds. And yet the government allows antipsychiatry to infiltrate programs it runs. (Chapter 18)

5. Why do psychotic people not engage in treatment? Nanos lists 17 reasons, and "stigma" was not among them. She argues (backed up by research) that stigma is overrated as a reason to not seek treatment for the seriously mentally ill. She says not one patient has ever mentioned that as a barrier to seeking help.

Lynn Nanos knows her stuff, truly cares about her cases, and fights for what's right - while fearless in exposing the cracks in the system.Highly recommended reading.

"Socialization Over Isolation": Jani, Ben and Community

I am a firm believer in the possibility of Recovery in Mental Illness.

Does "recovery" mean "cure"? How I wish it did - but, at the present time, it means management of symptoms, and it means rebuilding  - of one's life, and also of neural pathways.

I have watched and guided my son Ben through a decade of recovery - the ups and downs, the crises and the careful restoration afterwards.  What this has taught us is that there are four cornerstones to the foundation of the recovery process:

• Medical Treatment (whatever that means for each individual)

• Structure

• Purpose, and

• Community. Love.

Since the publication of Ben Behind His Voices two years ago, there have been three additional steps in Ben's recovery process. One is that he now is employed, and has been for over two years. I've written about this in past posts if you want to know more about that (but it has strengthened the Purpose and Structure cornerstones). The second is that he now rents a room from us, his family. After eight years in a group home and then system failure (also a subject of past posts), home is the best place for him right now, as we continue to hold onto support systems for case management and the path to greater independence for Ben in the future. This experience has also added strength to the Medical Treatment (we supervise meds) and Community/Love corners.

The third change is the one that has also been a surprising boost to that cornerstone of Community. Ben's life now includes friends - including one that currently also rents a room from us, someone Ben met at school. This friendship had brought out a lot in Ben that seemed limited before: talking about relationships, taking bike rides through the woods, hiking, playing card games and video games that are not solitary.  For the first time in over a decade, I hear the sounds of  laughter, cheers, and cars in the driveway as other friends come over to hang out. And, yes, at last, with some of these friends, Ben can say "I'll be right back. Just gotta take my meds with my Mom." A miracle.

Wow. Socialization over Isolation. Yes, please.

The Jani Foundation is championing this cause by planning events for children with SED (serious emotional disturbances) to relate to each other - to provide community where they don't have to feel isolated. (Jani is the subject of the book January First (written by her father, Michael Schofield), and the follow-up airing of "Born Schizophrenic". They have created this t-shirt which echoed my feelings about Ben's recovery. Socialization, especially in places where you don't have to always feel "different", is vital to the process. I learned this in 2001, when I was allowed to attend a meeting of Schizophrenics Anonymous.  This excerpt from Ben Behind His Voices tells the story: 

"I once attended, in 2001, a meeting of Schizophrenics Anonymous. This group is based on principles similar to the twelve steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. After a lengthy conversation with Charlie, the founder of the local chapter, I was granted permission by the group to sit in. The week I went, there were about seven or eight people attending, in various stages of recovery. They asked me to share my perspective as the mother of someone with schizophrenia, and they spoke of their own paths toward recovery. Afterward, we all went out for pizza—because, as Charlie told me with a smile, “We need to practice socializing, you know.” They got the joke. “Besides, the pizza’s only two dollars a slice,” said Bill, another group member. I loved these people. They even joked about their past. They shared a genuine laugh over things they had once believed about themselves: that they had “known everything,” that they were meant to be elected president. This was the first time I had ever heard these stories told with any humor inside the tragedy. It felt like the ultimate acceptance, being able to laugh with each other about it. They had found community, and they had found laughter."

The feeling of community can also happen in Clubhouses,  programs where members are given purpose, and not just a "place to go". People with mental illness, like all of us, have times where they need to be alone and regroup. But too many are isolated too often - as are their families. I have spoken with Jani's parents, and even though we have never met, we share a bond. So do Jani and Ben. They just may not know it yet.

NAMI: How Strong Can an Affiliate Be?

The answer: Very Strong.

NAMI can make a tremendous difference, on levels from personal to political, and ranging from local to national.  I have felt it as a Family-to-Family participant, teacher and trainer; I have, I hope, nurtured it as a NAMI National Convention Presenter, and as a writer.

And, as a speaker and broadcaster, I've had the honor and privilege to see NAMI in action, in so many ways.  As a family member, I know that NAMI helped me to:

• learn about and accept my son's illness

• know that I was not alone, and

• find ways to turn our grief into advocacy and action.

Nowadays, NAMI serves and can represent those who are living with mental illness as well. Some call those affected by mental illness "consumers", others say "clients", or "patients", or "individuals"...and the debate on the right term may go on.  However, the need for respect, individual treatment, understanding and hope remains the much more important issue than finding the right word.

Keynote on Mental Illness: From Chaos to Hope

Last week, I got to know NAMI Summit County, Ohio, when I served as the keynote speaker for their 27th Annual Anniversary Celebration Dinner/Auction, themed "From Chaos to Hope." So close to the subtitle of Ben Behind his Voices...it had to be fate.

When I get the chance to speak to groups of those who care about mental illness issues as much as I do, I always feel that I learn more than I teach; once again, in Summit County, this proved to be the case.

The audience was filled not only with those affected by mental illness in themselves or a loved one, but also with Crisis Intervention Team (CIT) trainer officers, judges, lawyers, healthcare and social work professionals , politicians, and other friends. I learned about the courage, resilience, and actions of so many, by listening to the recipients of the evening's Awards: Journey of Hope, Community Recognition, Lifetime Achievement, Heroes Make a Difference.

I met people who had lost a loved one to mental illness and turned their grief into advocacy; I met those living with mental illness who now mentor others in the same situation; I met the leaders of this affiliate, including of course Mel and Helen Reedy, who have spearheaded so many wonderful programs that show what NAMI can do when there is a vision, and it's properly supported.

NAMI Educational and Support Programs, and Beyond

NAMI Summit County, in addition to providing the Educational and Advocacy services we often associate with a NAMI Affiliate (support groups, speaker series, Family-to-Family, Basics,  and other educational programs), offers assistance to those who are striving to cope with a brain disorder. These programs include:

Housewarming

Housewarming provides new, basic household items to assist persons who can now live independently. Since the program’s inception, over 1,000 requests were filled (207 in 2011, alone), aiding in the transition to leading and independent life.

Needy Soles

Needy Soles footwear provides shoes, socks and other footwear to those who cannot afford to buy their own. 664 pairs of shoes were provided in 2011 via vouchers provided through our local Community Support Services organization.

Hair Care Program

Limited income can mean sacrificing basic personal care. A trip to the barber shop or salon promotes self-confidence while providing a basic need. Clients may obtain a voucher redeemable at the Akron Barber College. 608 haircuts were provided in 2011.

Creative Kids

A scholarship program offering the opportunity for kids in Summit County with Mental Health issues to participate in extracurricular activities such as art, drama, martial arts, music and more. 

Recovery in mental illness is a community process, and I am grateful to NAMI Summit County for showing me yet another example of what can be done when someone has a vision, and many work together to make it come true. That, indeed, is the path from Chaos to Hope. No one does it alone.

Thank you!

NAMI in the Community: Lifeline for So Many

This video, created by Barmont Productions for NAMI in Connecticut, shows in seven short minutes a smattering of some of the ways NAMI has made a difference in the lives of people living with mental illness, and their families and friends. In it, you will hear a small taste of why Ben Behind His Voices is dedicated in part to NAMI's wonderful work: education, advocacy, empathy and more.

As the host of this piece, I got to interview so many amazing people, and can only wish that the hours of footage we got might someday get re-edited into a documentary of 30 or 60 minutes, to pay homage to the many stories courage and love that I heard that day. Meanwhile - watch and enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/v/zgPN7vnOd-Y

Living, and Sharing, with Mental Illness

Sharing Can Shape Our Lives

Before Ben Had a Job, He Took an Art Class and Made These Beads for Me

"For what we are, we are by sharing...and it is by sharing that we move toward the light." These words come from my temple's prayerbook for the Jewish New Year, and they never fail to re-ignite my sense of purpose each year.

Some seem to need this sense of community more than others, perhaps, but the fact is: we are all on this earth together. All of us. Healthy, or living with an illness or disability. Young, old, in between. Introverts and extroverts. Men, women. Different backgrounds, families, sexual orientations, strengths, challenges.

And what we are, what we become, the mark we leave on this world someday - it's a journey made meaningful by the sharing. And for that, we need each other.

How Stigma and Self-Stigma Can Lead to Isolation Instead

I recently participated in a wonderful panel called "Self-Stigma Solutions", alongside three people who live not only with mental illness but also with the stigma that can come along for the ride - both external and internal. Each person shared how they were either told, or told themselves:

• "your life is over"

• "you'll never amount to anything now"

• "you'll never have friends"

• "you may as well just give up"

Well - these people did not give up. They were down, but came back up. They not only refused to believe the stigma, they learned to change the messages they were giving themselves.  Yes, even with mental illness and all the stigma that comes with it, sharing is possible. One of my fellow panelists is now a lawyer, one a therapist, one a counselor - and all share their stories to help others living with mental illness, and their families. Thank you.

As for Ben, he spent years feeling unemployable - which wasn't easy. How do you answer when people say, "and what do you do?", when it's all you can do to stay out of the hospital? Slowly, though, he began to build upon the sharing he was doing: chores at his group home, a commitment to "Anonymous" meetings, volunteer work, helping us with household chores when visiting. He needed to share, to feel needed. And, eventually, he not only returned to college- he also has been employed part-time for almost 18 months. Ben has a bigger playing field, and a clearer structure, for sharing - and it has added to his recovery in so many ways.

Steps Away from Self-Stigma, and Toward Sharing

Three Steps That Can Help Erase the Negative Messages:
1 - Consider the Source of Negative Messages (they may be ignorant of the facts)
2 - Hang On to the Positives (past success, others who believe in you)
3 - Replacement Messages (e.g. eliminate the word "just" or "only" when you describe what you do)

Yes, this takes patience. Yes, it takes rewording your doubts until they look like problems to be solved instead of obstacles that prevent.  Yes, it takes work, and time. But each of them now share their lives, as does my son Ben.

Share Your Light

However we find community - a group home, a clubhouse, volunteer work, a meeting, your family - we each have something to share. And, by sharing, we let our own lights shine as we move toward the greater light we all create together.

See the person, not the symptoms.
See possibility and promise. It's there, with treatment, respect, patience, community, and hope.

Becoming a Best Seller: The Real Reward

Okay, so not quite a best-seller yet...unless you count being pretty consistently in the top ten in Amazon's Best Seller list in the category ofHealth/Mental Health/Schizophrenia.

Still, the news from my literary agent (Claire Gerus, who is amazing) today, about a year into the book's published life, is a surprise: She actually has a royalty check for us!  This, from the woman who jokingly said to me not long ago (at least I think it was jokingly): "Royalties? What are those?".

So. This means the book is actually making a profit for Rowman and Littlefield (after reimbursement for  their publication expenses), and hence for me and Claire as well.  While this check is hardly large, to be honest, it is a delightful surprise in its symbolism: people are buying, and reading, Ben Behind His Voices.

It also means that more and more opportunities are opening up for me to speak to audiences in person, to meet and collaborate with readers and potential readers - families, providers, doctors, nurses, faith leaders, legislators, media, PAMIS (people affected by mental illness.

Someday!

And at least it's a start. Someday, I still hope to see the book on the USA Today or New York Times Best Seller List (hey, it can have universal appeal, right? Library Journal called it "A darn good read for memoir fans"...), for now the fact that it is getting into the hands that I suspect need it most is the best reward.

I got a Facebook message yesterday from a woman whose son had suddenly experienced a psychotic break - out of the blue.  She said, Someone sent me your book, and I sat and read it during the 5 hour wait in the hospital emergency room while waiting for a bed to be available for my son. Thank you for sharing your journey. We are struggling, but your book has helped me.

Now,  that means everything to me. That is why I wrote the book; that is the real reward. The fact that someone I have never met was helped by our story, and then passed it on to another "stranger"  who might need to feel less alone and have an idea of what to do next...well, it helps me feel that the messages in our story are getting a life of their own, like a child going out into the world.

So, if you know someone who needs "Ben", please share. You are the messenger. Thank you. With your help, the book will get into the hands of those who will benefit from its story and tips - and maybe, just maybe, get it to the bigger "Best Seller" lists. For then, I will know that the increased "Sales" means that more people will have been touched, enlightened, and perhaps helped by its messages.

Living with Schizophrenia: Your Family is not Alone

Best Mothers' Day gift ever: the Miracle of Ordinary.  Just a simple family dinner for 5, out on the deck, with everyone trying hard to do it all without my help (and me trying hard to stay out of the preparations, not always successfully but close!)  Cute. Sweet. In a MasterCard word: Priceless

Why? So much to be grateful for - happy marriages for both me and my daughter, the end of school finals (i.e. stress) for my son-in-law and son, sunshine, food on the table, etc. - and another Mothers' Day with my son with us instead of in the hospital.

In the past few weeks, I've met many amazing Moms. One of them is Claire, whose daughter Rebecca also lives with schizophrenia, as does my son Ben.  Their story is included in the documentary Living with Schizophrenia (click to view it for free), which is one of Hope and Recovery - when treatment includes the right medications, love of family and community, and healthcare providers who treat the human being, not just the illness,  in a partnership of open communication.

I had the privilege of meeting Rebecca and Claire at the National Council Conference last month in Chicago, along with Dr. Rebecca Roma (also in the film). All of these wonderful women inspire me, and I hope they will inspire you too.

Claire is currently reading Ben Behind His Voices, and says:

Rebecca, Claire, Randye at National Council

I am delighting in your book even more now that I know the author!  Your book is amazing... I like the boxes with information in each chapter...I applaud all your hard work to get this book written.  It really is a great resource .

Thank you! and thanks to all who have shared their stories with me, and the world, so that no one has to feel alone.

Also in the film, also an inspiration, are Josh and his family, Ashley, and Dr. Xavier Amador, the author ofI am Not Sick I Don't Need Help. Read it if you still think you must "convince" your ill relative that they have an illness before anything can be done. It, and this documentary, may change your mind - and help you to be a partner in a loved one's recovery journey.

I am a proud M.R.G. (Mother who Refused to Give up). Because of the support, education and inspiration I've gotten from people like Claire and Rebecca - and the others in this film - the choice to remain beside my son in his journey has been easier, more hopeful, and more successful.

Stop Stigma Now!: It May Save a Life

Last night I had the pleasure of being the keynote speaker for the Kennedy Center Inc Annual meeting. The theme was inspiring:

Create Hope, Celebrate Potential.

The Kennedy Center staff does so much to do just that, from educational programs to support services like job coaching, to residential programs and more, helping families when hopes and dreams have to be adjusted due to a disability diagnosis - in utero, at birth, because of an accident, or (as in our case) as a child develops.

Decorated books! for the centerpieces

We cry our tears; then, if we're lucky and well-guided, we wipe our eyes, pick up the pieces, educate ourselves, find a new community, get some support and new knowledge, and learn to understand our "new normal."  Then we adjust. And accept. And, eventually, appreciate the joys in this "new normal."

None of this happens overnight. It takes time (and the "SEARCH" elements I talk about - support, education, acceptance, resilience, communication, and hope/humor) to get to that new place.

And it takes time and patience.

But none of this - none of it - can happen without first addressing the problem of stigma. Especially where mental illness is concerned - because we can't always bring ourselves to see it, visually or emotionally.

Kenton Robinson of the Eastern Regional Mental Health Board wrote a beautiful, heartfelt piece about his experience with family stigma that almost had tragic results for one of his former 7th grade students:

he says:

Depression, bipolar disorder and schizophrenia are illnesses, just as diabetes or heart disease are illnesses, but they are still viewed by many as the victims' fault. That stigma makes people ashamed and afraid, and it prevents many from getting the treatment they need.

I responded:

Shame was part of our initial reaction until we learned better, through NAMI (I became a family-to-family educator and trainer) and through hearing stories of others. I wrote our book hoping it might save a family as ours was saved - and, possibly, save a life.

Thank you for a wonderful article!

CELEBRATE THE LIVES OF YOUTH TOUCHED BY MENTAL ILLNESS

COME AND CELEBRATE! I am thrilled to be one of the speakers at this event, but the real stars are the young adults touched by mental illness, and their art and writings. After that, I will meet and speak with member of Families Anonymous in Connecticut. Sharing is healing.

VOICES ART EXHIBIT SEEKS TO RAISE AWARENESS AND CELEBRATE THE LIVES OF YOUTH TOUCHED BY MENTAL ILLNESS

The National Alliance on Mental Illnesses of Connecticut (NAMI-CT) and Young Audiences of Connecticut/An Affiliate of VSA join hands to raise awareness and reduce the stigma associated with childhood onset mental illness through the art exhibit, Voices: The Art of Children, Adolescents and Young Adults Touched by Mental Illness. The exhibit features the work of more than 30 artists between the ages of 8-21, all of whom are either living with or are a family member of a young person living with a mental illness. The Voices exhibit will provide these courageous individuals a venue in which to express their feelings and a window into which others can gain access to their personal lived experience. Several of the youth will be present beside their artwork to share their story of how the illness has been a challenge, as well as an opportunity for personal growth and increased self-understanding.

The exhibit will take place from April 2-13th at the Legislative Office Building, 300 Capital Avenue in Hartford between the hours of 9 a.m.-5 p.m. Monday-Friday.

The Artist Reception will be held on Tuesday evening, April 3rd from 5-7 p.m. and will feature several speakers including Randye Kaye- actress and author of the book, Ben Behind His Voices: One Family’s Journey from the Chaos of Schizophrenia to Hope and Deborah Mendoza and Jana Pietrzyk- two Voices artists and inspiring advocates.

For additional information on either the Voices exhibit or reception, please contact Ann Nelson, NAMI-CT, at either 203-927-1541 or familyresearch@namict.org.

PBS AZ Opening Question: "Who is Ben?"

The interview for PBS in Phoenix, AZ last Thursday began with this wide-open question:
Who is Ben?

How to answer? Well -

different trees, same mental health issues

He's my son.

He is a sweet, loving, bright, caring, 29-year-old.

And - he has paranoid schizophrenia.

Very importantly, he is being treated for schizophrenia.

Here's how I answered this question, and the thought-provoking ones that followed, in this PBS interview on Arizona Horizon with Ted Simons.

In the same state where Jared Lee Loughner just lost his third appeal over forced medications, this is a very important distinction. My son, Ben, is in treatment.  Loughner, who killed six people and wounded former U.S. Rep. Gabrielle Giffords and 12 others in nearby Tucson just over a year ago, did so as a person whose schizophrenia had gone untreated for too long - and with disastrous results.

Here, in the state of Arizona where many still seem in a state of emotional disbelief over what happened in Tucson, the consequences of inadequate care and services for those suffering with mental illness seems even more obvious - and undeniably important.

In three days, I have made the rounds, courtesy of the Arizona Foundation for Behavioral Health (AFBH)andASU's Center for Applied Behavioral Health Policy, speaking in a community lecture, two media interviews, and meetings with NAMI as well as university students and educators in the field.

It has been a whirlwind - and I have met so many wonderful people who care about the issues that can make a difference for all of us affected by mental illness: people who have been diagnosed, those who love them, and the community they live in.

I have but one story to tell with full accuracy - our own - but I have heard many more in these few days. I hold tight to the belief that, one story at a time, shared without shame and empowered by education and courage, we can all make a difference in the way services for those with mental illness are funded, and to the laws that need to be passed to increase research, provide resources, and restore dignity and health to those who have been let down by the system that used to help them live a useful, dignified life.

Open Hearts and Mental Illness: View from both sides

There is so much potential, creativity, intelligence, and a wealth of new perspectives to be gained by being open to those affected by mental illness. One wonderful example is the aptly named Open Hearts Gallery in South Carolina.

Their mission?

One Open Hearts Work

THE OPEN HEARTS GALLERY IS A DYNAMIC GALLERY FEATURING THE TALENTED ARTWORK OF PEOPLE WHO LIVE WITH OR HAVE RECOVERED FROM MENTAL ILLNESS.  ART IS A POWERFUL REPRESENTATION OF THE PERSON WITHIN - HIS OR HER PAIN, RECOVERY, AND TRIUMPH.  THE GALLERY SERVES AS A BRIDGE TO COMBAT STIGMA AND AS A REMINDER OF HOW RESILIENT AND SIMILAR WE ALL ARE.

Check it out. You can also order prints by going to their "contact" page.

Can we open our hearts to those with mental illness? Of course, as the mother of a wonderful young man who also has schizophrenia, I am going to say yes - still, as you know if you have read Ben Behind His Voices, there were times when I felt I had to harden that heart in order to survive emotionally. The journey to return to an open heart toward Ben was not without challenges; my book pays homage to the obstacles as well as to the results of the lessons of love, respect, and possibility that we eventually learned.

But, still - there is always another view. I recently has a conversation with someone whose heart was shaped by her own experience as parenting Ben has shaped mine. In his case, he had been stalked by someone whose mental illness was allowed to go untreated. Untreated! That can be the difference between love and fear, between open hearts and a mind forever closed. And I can't say I "blame" him. How could I?  (for more information about "Eliminating Barriers to the Treatment of Mental Illness", see the excellent website Treatment Advocacy Center.)

So, while most react to my story with gratitude, this person was cold to the idea of someone with schizophrenia being vulnerable, lovable, capable, and worthy of respect. I hope, perhaps, that hearing our story might loosen his heart just a bit. Stories, and art, can help do that.

Crisis Intervention Team Training Makes a Huge Difference

Officer Newkirchen, Deputy Chief Lyddy, Captain Smith

Early this month I attended the annual speaker meeting of NAMI Fairfield, a very strong affiliate in Connecticut.  Our guests? Members of the local police force, one of its eight officers trained so far (as of the end of this month) for the CIT (Crisis Intervention Team).

Here a few things I learned:

1. All Police Academy graduates have had some training in Crisis Intervention. The CIT-trained officers, however, are have advanced knowledge and skills. Kind of like getting the heart specialist instead of the general practice doctor.

2. Police Officers really do care, and want to prevent crime rather than have to make arrests after the fact.

3. Police force hires only about 1% of those who apply. Wow.

4. Those with mental/emotional needs 7 times more likely to encounter law enforcement

5. CIT Actions now include follow-up with the families after an incident to gather key info and make sure they know about resources. Many are unaware of support groups and other places for info/help.

6. Families can pre-register information for the CAD (Computer Aided Database) in case of future incidents.

7. "No one likes to make arrests."

8. CIT Training helps us all. And these officers deserve our thanks. I know, personally, that without the empathy and understanding police officers showed when Ben was confused and symptomatic, his current life might be very different. Officers in the know took him to the hospital, took the time to call me for information, and handled Ben with respect and care. Thank you.

9. Any dollars spent on CIT Training saves lots of taxpayer dollars later. Untreated mental illness has a much higher cost, financially and emotionally, than treated mental illness. Ask my son, who is earning a salary instead of costing the state money for a long-term stay in a nursing home. Prevention works, and saves lives.

The Miracle of Ordinary

"When you've lost the miracle of ordinary, and you get it back, you never forget to be grateful...to say, This is a really good day."

Those are the last thoughts expressed in my recent interview with Mark Herz on WSHU, a Connecticut affiliate of NPR. Listen to the WSHU/NPR interview here ( 4 minutes)

Yes, ordinary can be miraculous. Cooking a dinner together. Driving your child to work. Nagging you son to finish his Shakespeare essay, when only three months ago he was wandering the floor of a psychiatric unit, unable to focus on conversation for more than a moment.

BBHV sighting: Barnes & Noble, Norwalk CT, Psychology face-out next to Jung!

Our tendency as adaptable beings is to adjust to new situations so quickly that we may forget to notice the joys.  Like that first night when you can actually breathe through your nose again after a cold...or the moment the fridge hummed back to life after the power blackout. The first time you see your memoir displayed at the bookstore. Pure joy! But days or hours later we shift our gaze to the next hurdles and may forget to be happy. It only takes a moment to step back and reignite appreciation. I want to remember to do that more often.

Awareness.  And especially this week, which is designated as "Mental Illness Awareness Week." Not just mental illness, but mental health. As I look back on the book launch party on Sept. 20th, the miracle of Ben's attendance at the event, and the support he chose to show, is indeed miraculous to me.  As the next events unfold (more interviews, upcoming appearances - see the news/events page) I hope that while Ben Behind His Voices does spread awareness about mental illness, it will also spread the messages of understanding, respect, hope, and the value of a therapeutic alliance between families, patients and healthcare providers.

And I hope I never forget to value the precious good days that are beautifully ordinary - and that the book helps reignite that spark in its readers.

A Good Day: Ben Comes Back

Ben is on the phone in the other room right now, talking to his friends and explaining that he hasn't been able to call because  "I didn't take my meds and so I was in the hospital for six weeks." Hey! That's way more open than he was with the psychiatrist this afternoon. Very interesting. But - he sounds alive. Happy. And I can breathe once again, while my to-do list grows with ideas to try and prevent this last relapse from happening again.

But today - we celebrate. Sure, "what-ifs" can always crowd out the joy, but short of the actions we can take today, and plan for later, there is nothing left but the choice to be grateful. That's where we are right now, and boy does it feel good. I have never regretted letting happiness win, not once. Whatever else happens - or could happen - we are, and will be, able to handle it somehow. (That's one of my favorite "momentary mantras"...I have seven of them that will form the heart of my next book, Happier Made Simple)

And there's more! This is a really cool day.

the first copies! Photographer: Ben himself

1. A package arrived from Rowman and Littlefield: my six "author copies" of my book! And - amazingly - the first one to see these copies was Ben. He's the one who took the picture you see here.

2. Author appearances are building. The latest: a collaboration with the wonderful, devoted, brilliant folks over at Laurel House in Stamford, CT. Watch for more details, but it looks like the book launch party will also be an awareness raiser for the issues we all care about (and solutions, such as the ones exhibited at Laurel House). Save the evening of September 22nd and e-mail me if you want an invite!

3. Thrilled to announce a new partner for Ben Behind His Voices, this time for the audiobook version. I start work next week on the narration for Spoken Word Inc., and it will be available in both CD and downloadable versions. So excited! - This company is dedicated, passionate, thoroughly professional, and as excited about the book as I am. Watch for more on this, but you can always go to facebook and "like" their page at SpokenWordInc, and/or the Ben Behind His Voices, audiobook page.

audiobook version of "ben"

4. Ben's employer - the best ever - is welcoming him back to work after this six-week absence. Before this episode, they had no idea Ben has schizophrenia. Now they know. And they are still giving him back his job - with a willingness to adjust his hours to whatever the Doctor suggests. Now that's another miracle. Ben starts back to work tomorrow.

And, while you're on facebook, the published version of "Ben" has both a group and a page. Thanks!

Yes, a very good day. My family feels complete again. I'll take every day of that I can get. And now - to figure out the next best steps. Ben's stay with us is only a "visit" so we can get the transitional pieces into place.

Focus on Hope: Can We Stop the Revolving Door?

My Talisman for the Past 5 Weeks

Tomorrow we finally have the discharge meeting. Ben is, at last, responding to his meds and is well enough to have completely clobbered me and my husband Geoff in a game of 500 Rummy last night.  Time to think about next steps.

It has now been 5 weeks since his relapse. I have no idea what will happen in tomorrow's meeting, but I know this: Ben, of course, wants to return to his independent apartment,  scene of the aforementioned relapse.  There are pitifully few other options right now. If this is currently the only choice, I will not leave that meeting until some clear plans have been set in place to safeguard Ben's recovery. Will keep you posted.

Last night I visited Ben with an orthopedic boot on my ankle. Cat bite. Long ridiculous story. I will recover, but right now can barely walk. I limp so slowly that I couldn't use the hospital's automatic revolving door (too fast).  Let's hope Ben never uses it again either.  That's what we are working towards.  How to combine greatly reduced outpatient support with the goal to stay on meds, in a program, and  out of the hospital?

That said, I now want to bestow an award: Employer of the year goes to Ben's employer. The support they have given us during this difficult time has been exemplary. They have signed and sent a "get well" card to Ben.  They sent him gifts: a company T-shirt, the little toy in the pic above.  I keep the toy in my office for now (things can disappear in the hospital), and will give it to Ben upon his release.  This stuffed crocodile has reminded me that I'm not the only one pulling for Ben's recovery, not the only one who cares.  So I added the post-it-note you see in the picture: "Recovery is Always Possible." It has cheered and encouraged me over the past few weeks, and reminded me that Ben is - and always will be - in there behind the voices waiting to come back to us.

I'm so grateful that, once again, he has. And now we see what tomorrow's meeting brings. I may bring the crocodile with me for moral support.

NAMI National Convention:Where We Need to Be

Chicago. Ben is still in the hospital back in Connecticut, and I am here - at the NAMI National Convention.  This isn't the first time I've had to make this decision. Six years ago, in 2005, I left Ben to go to St. Louis for another NAMI function, so I could become a state trainer for the Family-to-Family program. Then, as now, I don't regret my decision. Ben is in good hands (City Hospital staff is wonderful, and Ben is responding - knock wood - to his meds at last) and his sister and brother-in-law are nearby to visit and, well, just to be there.

And, as one speaker reminded us yesterday, Ben has to take care of himself too. I can supply the support, the framework, put the pieces into place - and will continue to do so - but this is Ben's journey too. And, for now, my best decision is to take care of myself. So, husband Geoff and I hit the road on Wednesday and drove 14 hours to be here.

The right decision. Here, I am surrounded by a couple of thousand of people diagnosed with mental illness (including Jessie Close of BringChange2 Mind),  families of those diagnosed (including newsman Bill Kurtis and journalist Pete Earley, author of Crazy: A Father's Journey Through America's Mental Health Madness) and friends both personal and professional. This is where we all need to be right now - talking about everything from proposed budget cuts for Medicaid (talk about crazy!) to the need for Assisted Outpatient Treatment (the lack of it in Connecticut - one of the only six states without it - is the reason Ben has had his relapse).

We all need to be here. We all need to share, advocate, learn - and, yes, laugh. So much has been done, so much needs to be done. I'll share more when we get home. Right now there's a workshop on Supported Housing and I'm on my way.

Relapse: The Monster Under the Bed

…and it has come out once again. After six years of progress, Ben is back in the hospital again. Insert four-letter words here.

I knew it. Involved families always know it.

Wednesday, after a voice-over session- late in the afternoon – I retrieve two messages from Ben’s caseworker. First message: “Ben forgot to show up for meds this morning. ” (and why did he wait until 4 PM to tell me?) Second message: “I just spoke to Ben. He says he forgot and he will come early for his evening meds.”

Sure he will. I finish my job and drive over to Ben’s neighborhood and the office of his agency. I check all his favorite hangouts – diners, mostly. No sign of Ben. I drive past his apartment – bathroom light on, no changes an hour later. I go and wait at the agency. No Ben. I call my husband and we wait together. 11:30 PM. No Ben. I have called his cell phone about 100 times today. Straight to voice mail.

This is not good.

They tell me: “There’s nothing we can do until tomorrow.”

My husband offers to drive around the streets in case Ben is wandering somewhere. That’s what happened last time he went off his meds, six years ago. Six years since we last went through this, and it suddenly feels like only last week.

“No”, I tell him. “Let’s go home. There is no point. We need sleep.”

The next morning, I call Ben and he – unbelievably -answers the phone at last. Says he’s on his way to take his meds and go to work. He sounds OK, for the few moments we speak. Maybe we caught it in time, I think. I do not hear from his agency so assume Ben did arrive for for meds, did go to work.

At lunchtime, I am scheduled to speak at an event celebrating those with disabilities (including mental illness) who are succeeding at their jobs. Perhaps next year, some year, Ben will be among these honorees, I dare to hope. I deliver my speech, acknowledging that we’d come close to a relapse the previous night but that I think that the responsibility of having a job had actually saved Ben from disaster. This gets lots of applause. Little did I know that while I was on stage, Ben was still in his apartment, refusing to allow his caseworkers – and then the police – to enter. He is saying he lost his keys and is afraid to leave the apartment because he won’t be able to get back in. He is starting to break down. The relapse monster is peeking out from under the bed.

Several hours later, Ben has been brought to the hospital by ambulance and is admitted into the psych unit he swore he’d never see again. He is refusing the only meds that help him. Here we go again.

Two days without treatment – sparked by a transition from group living to independent living sloppily made and with no insight and little thought (don’t get me started. heads will roll.) – and it’s as if the last six years have disappeared. College courses, dean’s list grades, full family participation, and finally employment -erased? Never. Threatened? Oh yes.

Independent living must be introduced slowly. Community cannot be torn away full-force, the way this transition was handled. I am livid. And sad. And ready to advocate. I hope it works again this time. I pray Ben can keep his job – which will only happen if he goes back to Clozaril, the only treatment that works for him. I know it’s not his fault, this lack of insight into his illness, but I can still be angry at the unfairness of it all. At least for awhile. Relapse always calls for a small pity party – acknowledge the feelings so I can let go – and then a move back to action.

There is always this threat looming: Ben may not bounce back. But I will fight like hell to bring him back to life. I have to believe it will work, somehow, again. And know that, ultimately, our only choice may be acceptance. But not yet.

Schizophrenia and Family: Walking the Tightrope of Recovery

Recovery in mental illness is possible, yes - but is often a tightrope walk for all involved: consumers, family, friends, providers.  To paraphrase Willy Loman in Death of a Salesman, "Respect must be paid."

This is an excerpt from today's radio interview with Ray Andrewsen of WQUN AM in Hamden, CT, where he asks me about our family experience as schizophrenia developed in my son Ben.

Next Thursday, June 9, I'm honored to be the keynote speaker for Fellowship Place in New Haven, CT, one of many organizations providing much-needed support and community for those with mental illness. .

Eighth Annual Doctor Albert J. Solnit Memorial Lecture

Advance ticket purchase is required. Tickets are $25.00 each. To purchase tickets, please click on the link on the left or call Melissa Holroyd at 203-401-4227 x111. All proceeds to benefit housing and support services to adults who suffer from chronic mental illness.

more info: Hope to see you there if you can make it!

Fellowship Place to host our 8th Annual Dr. Albert J. Solnit Memorial Lecture: a discussion with  Author Randye Kaye, Thursday June 9, 2011 at 7:00pm, at the Whitney Humanities Center Auditorium of Yale University, 53 Wall Street, New Haven.

Join us for a conversation with Randye Kaye, based on her book "Ben Behind His Voices: One Family's Journey from the Chaos of Schizophrenia to Hope", to be published by Rowman and Littlefield in September 2011.  Kaye will share with the audience her experiences with her son who suffers from schizophrenia, how mental Illness affects the whole family and how they helped guide him on his recovery journey as he went from 7 hospitalizations to now 4 semesters on the Deans List at his school.
Kaye humanizes the experience of schizophrenia by including Ben’s point of view, through his poetry and other writings, and pays tribute to the courage of anyone who suffers with mental illness
Following the Author’s presentation, Fellowship will host a panel discussion with the audience and a coffee reception. The Panel will include:

Daniel M. Koenigsberg, MD, Former Chairman, Dept. of Psychiatry, Hospital of St. Raphael, Associate Clinical Professor, Yale Medical School

• Selby Jacobs MD, MPH, Former Medical Director, CT Mental Health Center, Professor of Psychiatry, Yale Medical School

• Allan Atherton: Treasurer, National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) of Elm City, Past President NAMI/CT, Co-Coordinator, NAMI CT Sharing Hope Initiative

• Randye Kaye, Author: ”Ben Behind His Voices: One Family’s Journey from the Chaos of Schizophrenia to Hope”, NAMI Family-to-Family educator, Radio broadcaster: NPR.