SHAME ON STIGMA

How mental health STIGMA plays out in daily life.

Siri tells me the definition of stigma is:  

"A mark of disgrace associated with a particular circumstance, quality, or person."

Back in the day, mental illness was something families kept hidden.  If your family member was mentally ill, stigma felt like a thick, dark, looming cloud.  It choked off conversation about the realities and difficulties facing families dealing with fragile psyches.  It was too painful to be open about, because everyone judged.  The stigma was palpable. Those struggling were misunderstood and most folks feared them.  As time passed, mature reasoning and education has enlightened the masses.   Now, we realize that depression and anxiety, for example, can be normal reactions to life's hardest challenges.  We all have emotional days, to a certain degree.  We all have individual DNA, unique experineces, and we all handle things in our own way.  Depending on what you've experienced, your emotional reaction will reflect that.  It's Newton's third law:  "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction."  Life is balanced like that, and that's normal.

We all feel sadness, joy, fear, anger...  We have these wonderful emotions for a reason.  They make us human, they connect our hearts.  Without emotions, there would be no feelings...no color. Yuck.  I don't know about you, but living in shades of black, white, and gray isn't how I want to see or FEEL life!  There would be less beauty, art, expression, less affect/affection, and NO LOVE.

No, thank you.

My Stress and Benzos

***MASHUP***

“Things Happen For A Reason” 
~and~

“Precisely What's Wrong In This Country”

         I recently had an experience that I believe was providential, albeit upsetting…  
Meant to be, because it perfectly encapsulates what I and a growing number of informed citizens are realizing is a massive problem in this country; that being:  

Ass-u-me-ing a pill will “fix it”.

The scenario was the day I blogged last month about TEARS. 

(Read that, if you haven’t…it was inspired by this event.)

         Last month, for the second day in a row, my left fingers were numb.  I didn’t think much the first day, but by day two, coupled with my ongoing “broken heart syndrome” and my history of having been diagnosed by a top Vanderbilt Cardiologist of heart spasm… Plus, add in the stress of dealing with the horrors my brother is enduring (criminalization due to “mental illness”), and fighting that mountainous monster (which includes Big Pharma, the American Psychiatric Association, and potentially Oklahoma Department of Mental Health & Substance Abuse Services, etc.).  This isn’t a David and Goliath fight. 

This feels more like Erin Brockovich vs The Tobacco Industry/GOT White Walkers, and Slavery, combined.  I pray that doesn’t offend anyone, but since Jeff (my brother) has been force-drugged with RX that has only served to injure him for almost three decades, and then was held alone in segregation in Tulsa County jail last year for 111 days, maybe you can overlook the PC.  (Thank you.)

Brains in Cages

BLOGWORTHY “Blog Replacement”

I’ve been traveling for 3 weeks, busy with mental health advocacy, and haven’t settled on a blog yet… So, when I ran across this, I decided to just POST IT, instead of a blog…for now.  #GREATNESS  #Ican'tTakeCredit #JohnOliver

WATCH THIS VIDEO ( link )

Mental Health:  

Last Week Tonight with John Oliver (monologue Oct 4, 2015):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NGY6DqB1HX8&feature=player_embedded

1. Stigma:  (min: 00.20 seconds in)

Derogatory words/phrases used to talk about the mentally ill by media and in life.

(examples:  “wacko” “psycho” “cray cray” etc.,

Cited: Dr. Harold Schwartz, Chief Psychiatrist, Hartford Hospital

(video clip from LAST WEEK TONIGHT interview)

CONCLUSION:

Current accepted vernacular perpetuates stigma.

EMO HEALTH: Tears, according to Jackie.

When I’m upset…I cry.  

Period.

            I’ve never been able to hold back tears, whether from grief, joy, fear, confrontation, stress, anger, irritation, laughter…   You name it, they flow.  It’s part of who “Jackie” is.  I gave up trying to suppress them, years ago. 

But if you hadn’t noticed, society doesn’t generally view tears as normal - even though they are absolutely normal and natural.  Tears have a purpose. 

Crying is literally a release of hormones and/or enzymes.  They contain stress hormones that need to be expelled, or enzymes that protect our eyes.  It is a necessary and healthy process that western civilization has frowned upon, and I am here to say, “Forget that!”

 If me pondering about societal norms is showing my age...no bigs.  I would hope that iGen-ers and Millennials embrace the free-flow of tears.  I consider myself quite evolved in this respect.  Age Schmage.

BTW, for the sake of this blog, I’m speaking more to the “stress hormone” kind of tears. 

Solitary FOR REAL

As hurricane Irma was downgraded to a 6o mph swirling tropical storm, blowing through the Atlanta area (where I currently reside), I was hunkered down in my house, working on records and evidence needed to hopefully procure legal representation for my brother, who’s been at the Oklahoma Forensic Center (OFC) in lovely Vinita, OK, since November 14, 2016 - awaiting competency for trial. 

I felt cooped up in my house, having battened down the hatches, gotten flashlights/batteries and candles at the ready, and having all devices fully charged in case of a power outage. 

When I have to spend most of my day working at this computer and copier, with mounds of paperwork, I usually step outside and trim a bush, or pull some weeds, or lie in the hammock and decompress for a few minutes, staring at the sky, and just …breathing.  Because I have that option.  I need those breaks to keep my head clear, and my heart from aching too much. 

Today I realized, even though I was feeling “trapped” in my house, head buried in ink cartridges and binders and flash-drives and sticky notes, I’m not for “real,” trapped.  For REAL trapped is what my dear brother had to endure for one hundred and eleven days last year.  That’s right: 111.  Over three and a half months in SECLUSION at David L. Moss, Tulsa County Jail, prior to being deemed incompetent and being sent for a new bout of forced drugging at the OFC/Vinita. 

Anyone that grew up in Oklahoma knows “Vinita” as the place they send “those” people.  Tell me I’m wrong.  Because, I remember thinking it myself, and hearing others talk, as I grew up.  Vinita is a dirty word in Oklahoma.  And, my brother having been sent there several times since 1991, Vinita has changed, but not for the better.  OFC used to be called Eastern State Hospital (ESH).  But if you hadn’t heard, there are no long-term hospitals any more.  I get that, but now there’s JAIL, instead.  Lovely. 

Lawyers: Part 1.

I’ve never had to hire a lawyer, so this is new territory. 

Last year, when my “mentally ill” brother was arrested in Tulsa, I created a notebook when I started calling attorneys.  After almost a year of getting leads, recommendations, searching the www, and now into my second notebook (the first one got full!), we’ve yet to secure an attorney that can help my brother.  

          We’ve spoken to the best and the most expensive private attorneys, Legal Aid, Oklahoma Disability Law Center (*), etc. Currently hot ‘n heavy chasing the ACLU, because law firms that know anything about mental health in Oklahoma tell us we need the ACLU.  So, we are hoping they’ll take a look at Jeff’s case, as we are circling the wagons, trying to get their attention. 

          It’s a compelling case, with evidence - and not just from the 111 days he was held in solitary confinement in David L. Moss Tulsa County Jail last year (prior to being deemed incompetent and taken to Oklahoma Forensic Center (OFC) in Vinita.  (*) (Vinita…that’s another blog for another day.)  Horrendous solitude – without even being allowed a book to read, because somehow books can be dangerous (?!) and rarely seeing the light of day.  More on that in a later blog.  (*)

Jeff is 48 yrs old.  He’s been in Oklahoma’s Mental Health “system” for 29 years, and has only gotten worse and more expensive over the years, to put it bluntly.  In a state that’s fiscally broke, you’d think someone would want to do a cost-benefit analysis, take the records (medical, fiscal, psychiatric, housing, the list goes on) and HELP the STATE of OKLAHOMA.  But no.

An Admission

   Can I admit something? All my life I've faced my fears, consciously.  Oh... I have fears. 

  I grew up with a father plagued by paranoia. Great man, extremely smart, amazingly gifted, but...well, and I don't want and not trying at all to dishonor him.. he just lived in such "fear" that he shut himself out from the world. 

  Honesty is hard, but saying these things might help me slay some current dragons... I have always rejected living in abnormal fear. Paranoia. I "get" it. (meaning, I understand it!) And yeah, I may have leanings that way, but knowing in my core that I'm SOLID, has grounded me in knowing I can conquer and overcome.

   But today I want to admit that I'm not as strong as I try to be. My broken heart needs mending, and the fight makes me weary. I truly don't know how mom has always fought so hard, with nothing, I have so much more than she ever did... I have her as a great role model in keeping up the fight for right and to overcome all odds. My sister is also my hero. Such strong, STRONG women. And dad is my hero, too. He is wonderful, as is my brother, Jeff.