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Spring, Family, and an Interview

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Spring always has been my favorite season and this weekend was beautiful in the Washington D.C. area. It is difficult to imagine that only a few weeks ago, Patti and I were debating whether or not we needed to buy a snow blower after I scrolled through a few husqvarna snow blower reviews because of the three feet of white powder  in our front yard.
Not only was the warm weather a welcome relief but my only brother, George, flew  in from Florida to visit and spend time with our parents, Elmer and Jean, who are 89 and 90 respectively. We persuaded my folks seven months ago to sell their home in Spearfish, South Dakota, and resettle near Patti and me. Having them here has been a blessing, especially since I only used to see them sporadically when they lived so far away. If you are wondering about my mother’s health, she fixed a full turkey dinner with all of the trimmings to celebrate my brother’s visit.Click to continue…

Glenn Close, Joey Pants and Fighting Stigma

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Everyone complains about stigma and I am convinced that the best way to end it is by putting a human face on mental illness.

It is much more difficult to walk by a person who is homeless and psychotic if that person is your son, your daughter, a member of your family or someone you know. This is why I encourage people with mental disorders and their loved ones to speak out and tell people that mental illnesses are exactly that – illnesses – which can happen to anyone.

Last week, I appeared on a panel at the National Association of Black Journalists Conference on Health Disparities in Washington D.C. that was sponsored, in part, by Eli Lilly. It was an interesting conference for me because I learned a lot about cultural disparities from Dr. Henrie Treadwell of the Morehouse School of Medicine, and Dr. Annelle B. Primm, Director of Minority and National Affairs at the American Psychiatric Association. Both explained that schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and depression do not pay attention to skin color. But there is a huge difference in how various ethic groups react to mental illnesses. Many African American males are reluctant to seek help because they are afraid of being perceived as being weak in their communities.

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Making a Difference: CRISISLINK benefit

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It’s not uncommon for parents to approach me after I give a speech and tell me that their son or daughter has attempted suicide or successfully ended their own life. These are always heartbreaking moments and I am always at a loss for the right words.

What do you tell a parent when their child has committed suicide?

One of the most poignant encounters I have had was with two emotionally distraught parents who approached me after a speech in Philadelphia. The couple explained that their son had ended his life and then they told me that they were both psychiatrists. “Even we didn’t know how to save him,” the father said.  

Suicide is something that terrifies all of us who have a loved one with a severe mental illness.

Which is why I was both thrilled and honored when I was invited to participate in CrisisLink’s annual fund-raising banquet March 24, 2010 between 6:30 p.m. to 10 p.m. at The Clarendon Ballroom, 3185 Wilson Blvd., in Arlington, VA.

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Linda’s Story: Part One

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If you had known me as a child, you would not have suspected that I would become an author. I was horrible at spelling and poor at grammar. As a teenager, I wasn’t much of a reader, either. But I always have been fascinated by people and their experiences and some of my favorite memories are of the times when my father, a minister, would take me with him at night to go “call” on members of his church. I don’t think many preachers actually visit people at their homes anymore, but in the 1960s in rural Colorado, they did and I discovered early on that nearly everyone has a story to tell.

The Importance of Speaking Out!

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A mother wrote to me four years ago about her adult son who had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder but had refused to take his medication.  The apartment where he lived was in shambles and he was in horrific shape. Despite everything that she did, he refused to get help. He sunk deeper and deeper into a mental abyss. 
Because he was not dangerous, there was nothing she could do.
 Many of us have been in this woman’s shoes. I get emails and phone calls weekly from frantic parents who have heard about my book and want help with their children. 
I remember writing the mother an encouraging note and occassionally wondering what had happened to her and her son.  Well, this week I heard back from her. Click to continue…

Pill Pushers versus Dedicated Doctors

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Mike’s first breakdown happened in 2001 and since then he has been seen by nine different psychiatrists – some private, some in emergency rooms, some in community treatment programs. As best as I can tell, only two of them – that’s right two of them – have bothered to learn anything more about him than his name and symptoms.
I remember confronting one of Mike’s first doctors when I realized that he had only spent ten minutes talking to my son and had no family or medical history to review. The psychiatrist explained that he didn’t need to know any of Mike’s past information, only the names of medications that Mike had and was taking.  He explained that his job was to render a correct  diagnosis and then prescribe the appropriate medication. After that, it was up to a social worker to deal with Mike.
I was frustrated and angry.