Removing the Stigma

"The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four Americans is suffering from some form of mental illness.  Think of your three best friends.  If they're okay, then it's you."  --Rita Mae Brown

 

So my post the other day has gotten me thinking.  And then there was the post that quickly went viral on Facebook entitled "I Am Adam Lanza's Mother."  I shared it and got a lot of positive feedback (and some controversy).  It also has gotten a lot of attention in the media.  What struck me about this post was not the shocking value of it--I can actually see some of that in my own experience.  It is just how honestly and vulnerably she shared it.  She spoke up when most people stay quiet about a topic that is still taboo. 

After a long walk on the beach yesterday, I decided I want to do my little part to make mental illness such a taboo.  I want us to start talking about it.  I want it to come out into the open as that is the only way that we can really affect change.  I've "come out" about my sexual orientation--I think it's time that more of us "come out" about our experiences with mental illness.  Until we do, it is just another part of us that is held back from living wholly and authentically. 

So here's what I'd like to ask of you:

• In your comments below or in an e-mail message directly to me, send me a story of mental illness that has affected you.  You can include what you've told people before or what you've never shared.  You can tell how it impacted you or how keeping it a secreted impacted you or your family--anything you think is relevant is welcome. 

I'll pull them together and anonymously share them, if you give me permission.  Now, I know I don't have tons of readers, but I think there are enough of you to have a story or two.  I'll share some of mine too.  Please help me. 

Caveat:  It has been hypothesized, but it has NOT been firmly established that Adam Lanza had mental illness.  It is just that, in my mind, I just can't justify this kind of carnage without it.  If it is not, then I'm going to have to have some real introspective discussions about the nature of evil. 

Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,

But at every gust the dead leaves fall,

And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

My thoughts still cling to the mouldering past,

But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,

And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;

Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;

Thy fate is the common fate of all,

Into each life some rain must fall,

Some days must be dark and dreary.

(Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1807 - 1882)

It's been a month and 10 days since I last posted.  Yes, a lot has been going on, but I miss writing in this blog.  Since then, a few of my friends have started blogging--they said I inspired them; in turn, they're inspiring me to pick it up again. 

Today, 20 perfect children were killed in Connecticut.  There are no words to express the feelings that people are having about this.  Myself, I couldn't turn off the news this evening.  Possibly, I was hoping for some kind of news update telling me this was all a mistake and this didn't really happen. 

I've been through the gamut of reactions:

• My first one was "again?" with exasperation with people in our country after three of these open area killings in such a short time.
• Then I am embarrassed to say that I was somewhat numb.  I think I just couldn't go there emotionally.  But I knew I was feeling it because my stomach was upset. 
• Then I watched the news and was overwhelmed by the whole situation.
• And then I watched our president break down and I hit me as a parent as well.  I cried.

I've been hugging Kyle so much this evening.  I'd be clinging to Eric too if he were here (and if he'd let me).  I have been sending him mushy texts.

There are going to be a lot of angles to this story: about the bravery of the students and teachers, about gun control and security systems, about first responders.

But here's where my mind also is.  The gunman was said to have a "personality disorder."  In my mind, it is hard to say there wasn't some mental illness involved.  His mother had said that he was distrubed and getting "out of control."  As a mother of someone now involved in the mental health system, my heart also goes out to his family.  And to him--I know that may be controversial, but I can't even imagine what kind of demons must have been in play for him to do something like that. 

And here's two facts that I know for sure.  Our mental health system is broken.  Terribly broken.  I have learned that the hard way.  And, because of the mental institutions of bygone days, there are a lot of protections for the mentally ill so that you can't FORCE anyone to get help after they are 18.  If a person doesn't want help, there is pitifully little you can do as a parent or loved one.  I am very aware that my child is 15 and I have three years to get him in a good place.  And I'm grateful beyond belief for those years. 

I am saying prayers tonight--for the victims and their families, for all the people who saw or experienced the horror of the day, for the town of Newton, and for the family of Adam and Nancy Lanza.  And for families everywhere who are struggling this holiday season.