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26 Jan 2022

Category: symptomsCategory Archives:

Going to Social Work school with a Schizophrenia diagnosis

Everyone needs to dream big in life. Goals are the waypoints to those dreams. It was always my goal to go to graduate school. After my ‘break’ from first-episode psychosis in undergraduate school, my goal to graduate school was on the brink of failure. My goal was so important to me that I was uncompromising in my recovery to heal and move on with my life. When goals are critical to us, people will do everything in their power to reach them despite the obstacles in their path.

My obstacle was my schizophrenia diagnosis and the residual symptoms that medication didn’t manage. These obstacles didn’t stop me from applying to a social work program two years later when I finally reached my goal of enrolling in a graduate program. Because I was marked as ‘sick’ and mistreated due to revealing my psychiatric history earlier on in my education, I kept my mental health issues to myself in graduate school.

Aside from my girlfriend, a few close classmates in my cohort, and the people who already knew my schizophrenia diagnosis, I kept my mental health to myself. Not sharing and being utterly private about my mental health history meant a few things:

  1. I would have to be ultra-careful about managing my schizophrenia symptoms.
  2. Be mindful of blips or changes (however minor) in my mental status so faculty and other students would not liken the lability to a possible mental health disorder.
  3. Be very careful about who I confide in about my history to avoid information falling into the wrong hands or people that might be stigmatizing and discriminatory.

There were times when I could do it all, be mindful, careful about disclosing, and super self-aware without incident. Other times, I found it more difficult to hide who I was and my history as a person with lived experience. When I was happy, content, and not very stressed, being mindful of all of these aspects of being secret about my identity was easy. When there was an exam or a vital essay due, I found myself becoming sad and pensive. It was during these stressful times that I got angry and self-loathing. I became upset about my history and how I was less than completely authentic about who I was and my past.

Graduate school in social work has a big self-reflection piece. One of our educational goals is to become more self-aware of our ‘stuff’. Together, in class, we unpack the microaggressions and discrimination we’ve internalized our entire life. Meaning, we learn why how our perception is shaped by the societal apparatuses which inform our everyday mindset and way of interacting with our peers and family. So, when this aspect of graduate school came around, and it was my time to reflect and learn about myself, I knew I would have to be very careful about how I went about this process.

I didn’t have the option. I could not openly reflect on my past because I had chosen to keep that piece of me a secret. I could make up a past and reflect on a fictitious history to practice the art of telling a compelling yarn. For a while, this is what I did. At first, it seemed phony. The content of the stories I spoke about my past were all made-up lies. I made up some outrageous stories. When it came to writing my autobiography, an exercise we all had to do, I was left with the creative freedom to enmesh my history into an outrageous, downright hysterical backdrop. Other students laughed when I told these stories, and they were so artfully crafted and congruent with social work theories of human development the professor couldn’t deduct points.

I was relentless about lying when I needed to defend my history. But when it came to being honest, and opportunities presented themselves to be me without any of the phoninesses, I made the most out of it each time. I was brutally honest, so honest. It almost seemed to align with the phony storylines I created earlier on. I still remember a professor talking to us about our dreams to motivate us and get to know a bit of what we were interested in for the end-of-the-year research project just around the corner. I remember the first few responses. “Getting married, owning a big house, being a social worker of the year…” and so forth. No one was expecting to hear what I was about to say.

“I want to move into assisted living,” I told the class. 

My classmates laughed harder than ever. But I was serious this time. They just had no idea why. I was exhausted from being overmedicated and extremely tired from my graduate school program. After all, I was in a state hospital two years before this, and now I was in graduate school and a relationship. It was a lot.

So when it came to my dream in life. It was to finish the program, get my master’s, and move into a setting where the assisted living center took care of my meals and cleaning. I certainly didn’t want to move back in with my parents. They were exhausted from caring for me to this point.

With my master’s in social work and a full-time job, I figured I could pay for an assisted living center to do everything for me. I could then focus on taking care of myself and my reaching my goals. When you are tired and overmedicated, goals seem further away. They might even feel or seem unreachable at times when someone is cooking your meals, cleaning your living space, and basically, managing your ADL’s (Activities of Daily Living). There is more time and energy to focus on goals, a job, and doing everything everyone else does but with some assistance at home.

“What? Max?” Another student said. “You’re kidding, right?” said yet another student. That was when I explained myself. I didn’t disclose my mental health disorder. But I did explain how tired I was a lot and how much time and energy housekeeping can be and absorb. I explained how all this energy could be invested into pursuing my dream career or any goal I set for myself.

When I put it in these terms, ‘energy’ and ‘time,’ suddenly everyone knew what I was talking about with my assisted living response. If I had said my answer was because of a mental health disorder, everyone would have pitied me and felt awful. When I made it about being savvy about how I expended my energy and time, everyone thought I was intelligent, innovative, and so forth. My point is that stigma goes deep, and if people let themselves become blinded by discrimination. Suppose people choose to be more open and nonjudgemental with their thinking. New ways of understanding the world and reaching their dreams might be next.  

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Healthy fascinations went awry

With thoughts moving at breakneck speed, at 16, I did not see an end to the downward spiral. I was on a band trip with my high school in the nation’s capital. In 1998, I was without sleep for at least 14 straight days. The antics of my hotel roommates were no solace for the turmoil I found myself in. The Greyhound took me and the high school band from place to place- from The Lincoln Memorial to the steps of the Washington Monument. I shot pictures of friends that must have been lopsided.

I was clearly out of focus. What would have been a joyful experience was tainted by moods which confused fear with joy. I had spent the whole spring before this trip exploring the local woods, sometimes as early as the break of dawn, sometimes while barefoot. My healthy fascination with the sunrise had become an obsession, as I started to lose sleep to catch the sunrise regularly in the summer of 1997. I was manic and psychotic. The nurses and doctors at the hospital caught it upon my dramatic admission in late April 1998. Immediately the staff thought that I had been traumatized while on the school trip.

Due to my rapidly moving thoughts, the staff Immediately administered the antipsychotic Haldol. In drama club, track. and wrestling, people had admired me for my speed and energy. However, These were telltale signs of my mania, not caught until guided inside the hospital emergency room. The first referral was my pediatrician to a psychologist, then the hospital emergency room due to the urgency of the situation, It was hard to know where to go since things were so sudden, and in the 1990s, mental health was rarely discussed.

Throughout my week’s worth of no sleep in Washington DC, terror was rampant. I hurt myself for the first time arriving home from this trip but caught myself before going too far. The newer generation antipsychotic Zyprexa administered in the controlled setting of the hospital allowed my foggy thoughts to meaningfully coalesce. After a week or so, the real game-changer was making art with chalk pastels in occupational therapy. My brain cells rewired, creating original natural scenery during discussions with others in the unit. Healing occurs naturally in the arts, and in my life, Medicine is secondary.

To this day I make art, with occupational therapy on the psychiatric unit as the precedent. The psychosis WAS the substance of my art. My subconscious came to life in the throes of confusion. Elusive Figures from my past have come alive with poetry and storytelling in artistic expression. Songs on guitar have expressed romantic adventures and provided entertainment to crowded nightclubs. As I recount dramatic stories with creative expression, a new life takes shape.

An Effort To Explain “Psychosis”

When confronted with a disturbed loved one, especially one who has been in the hospital with a psychiatric diagnosis, many people hear the word “psychotic” used to describe their behavior or thought patterns. What exactly does this term mean?

 

First of all, it is imperative to understand that those suffering from “psychosis” are often lost in their reality and thus are unaware they are “out of touch with reality” no matter how bizarre their behavior or ideas appear to other observers. 

 

“Psychotic” is a clinical judgment.

 

It is not a diagnosis but rather a symptom describing the status of a disturbance of a person’s mind. The difficulty with the word ‘psychotic’ is that there is no absolute state, or judge, of what constitutes “reality.” 

 

The word all too often is used to assess the condition of an apparently “sick” individual. Here is the issue– since all people live and operate in their perception– how can a court or clinician discern what a healthy reality is or is not unless their safety is a factor? 

 

A person with delusions of being God might well be perceived as psychotic (as was my case) and firmly believe their ideas. On the other hand, the constituents of a radical politician may applaud them for their “honesty” despite the negative emotions they might induce. After all, if people are not ‘harmed,’ what do feelings matter regarding health and perception.

 

Reality is always relative and never absolute, so that every diagnostic judgment is ultimately subjective to the clinician using it.

 

In society, “reality” is a cultural construct defined by the majority of that culture. In my case, I accept that it took me six years to return from my delusion enough to be able to have the mental and social focus to return to college after a schizophrenic “break” at my first university. It took a growing awareness and insight in a private “program” and nine hospitalizations before I was ready to re-integrate into an educational setting without regression to a state of illness.

 

But it was the transformation of my self-perceptions that finally freed me from the internal mental structures upon which my religious beliefs. All this work on myself and the steps to these changes has convinced me that my path forward hinges on bringing this awareness to the families of those diagnosed with schizophrenia. I want to help them navigate the challenges not only presented by their loved ones but more especially to themselves so they can believe “Recovery is Always an Option.”

Exercising the Right to Speak Out 

In 23 years of being treated for mental illness, I have learned that it is common for some treatment providers to assume flawlessness. Although a practitioner may have training, practice, and experience on their side, It is questionable how much this experience should override someone’s right to think independently. Putting out a statement in treatment that questions the validity of a claim should be respected for its originality, not delegitimized.

The interrogation of my ‘Lived Experience’ has been commonplace with many psychiatrists, therapists, or peer specialists. Çommunication can become rocky when a person with a diagnosis expresses their rights in treatment. In treatment, it is the right of a patient to say their preference for the exercise and provision of care.

It has been my experience that practitioners can get hung up on how they do things, clinically speaking. Even more problematic, clinically speaking, everyone is quite different, and treatment should be person-centered. However, it seems as if theoretical example person ‘A’ may be getting too similar a treatment to person ‘B’ for very different disorders and presentation.

Clinicians must respect our rights; this should go without saying in mental health treatment. Expressing our needs may become a life or death situation for patients. When patients question the quality and provision of their care, it can create volatility.

When people feel that treatment is not going well and the therapist does not agree to change mental health treatment, this should be a red flag. It has been my experience that therapists can distort the severity of someone’s symptoms in their care when their motive is to retain their job as a therapist. I have seen this happen firsthand.

I think this is common due to the origins of mental health treatment. In psychoanalysis, the responsibility is given to the therapist to have an absolute understanding of the workings of a patient’s mind. In my opinion, this power differential helped give birth to the hegemony within the psychiatric profession. Finally, in the 1960s, mental health advocates began to question this hierarchy. Soon, the advent of patient rights came into being. I have learned that practitioners who call themselves peer specialists often betray their practice. They also often fall victim to a paradigm of teaching ‘learned’ helplessness.

Peer specialists especially should have respect for the position of a consumer. Taking on a superior attitude due to being a peer specialist runs contrary to standards of being a peer in the first place. Yet being with somebody, and thinking on their level, is essential in peer practice. However, before peer certification became the norm in New York State in 2015, empathic communication was more commonplace in peer agencies.

The hiring of peers may have to do with funding streams or simply because agencies get grants when they hire peers and get opportunities for other ‘reimbursable allowances’ having to do with money. Peers don’t require as much money as social workers when it comes to salary.

So I see the practice of hiring peers as being cheapened, and the real value is disappearing. Peers are overworked and don’t love their jobs anymore. While it is excellent that peers are more valued now than before, I see some themes remain the same between therapist practice and peer practice.

When it comes to peer practice in the future, it is essential to deeply examine the dynamics and the absolute authority present with therapists. Having volunteered at multiple peer agencies spanning my treatment, I feel this is critical as we move forward.

Effects Of “Broken Brain Syndrome”

One of the most significant obstacles to my recovery from schizophrenia is clinically-induced programming.

By ‘clinically induced programming’, I mean my self-perception was exposed to the influence of widely-accepted medical ideas. To recover, I had to filter it out.

First diagnosed in a psychiatric unit in New York City, my psychiatrist explained my illness by saying I had a “broken brain.” He compared my brain to a broken leg. This ‘brokenness’ was the reason I had been hospitalized in the first place. Although this seemed to make some sense, I did not realize at the time it was a faulty analogy. Most doctors do not believe the mind can undergo extreme disruption and mend like a shattered bone.

As I got deeper into my journey in the mental health system, I became aware of the general view that my job and “success” hinged upon avoiding permanent institutionalization. My success would be measured with taking my medication (which I still take at a much lower dosage).

I was led to believe I would be forever “sick” no matter how successful my recovery or how creative my writing production.

I believe this reality is one of the most significant issues raised by psychic affect (my term for “mental illness”), especially schizophrenia.

Even in a private psychiatric program, I was convinced by the doctor’s words and actions that I was constantly on the edge of a “psychotic episode”. Consequently, until I broke the cycle almost thirty years ago, I returned to the psych ward 15 times. During this period, I thought I was, in fact, insane.

When I was determined to be well enough by the doctor to be released from “The Program”, I got an apartment and, simultaneously, returned to college. I had a very successful academic and social life in college. Enjoying my reality as an undergrad, I came to the liberating insight I had to learn to trust myself while continuing to adhere to the advice of the psychiatric professionals.

So what is the solution to “Broken Brain Syndrome”?

There is an essential need for more research to get to the core of this mysterious condition.

Perhaps even more important is the need for more understanding and compassion in the face of the diagnosis and the clarity to know this illness is not necessarily permanent. Despite the intensity and long-lasting nature of symptoms, have hope!

There is a stigma with the language of ‘broken brain” which is accepted by professionals, caregivers, and loved ones as well as, most detrimentally, the diagnosed themselves. This stigma is perhaps the greatest challenge to my belief that “Recovery is Always an Option.”

 

INDEPENDENCE FOR ALL

 

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Hey everyone, this month, the United States of America is celebrating Independence Day on July 4. Three cheers for the red, white, and blue! Wave those flags proudly and find some patriotic songs to sing. As for me, I will not be singing out loud but only singing to myself. 

Fly those balloons and kites, just like Benjamin Franklin did in colonial times. Eating hamburgers and hot dogs, potato salad and coleslaw, and whatever float our boat. Sinking is not allowed or even encouraged by this writer. 

 

Enough digressing. We need to discuss Independence. 

 

Everyone can achieve some measure of Independence, but we have to learn how to get there. We probably know that there are many ways to either define or describe Independence.

Let’s start with just one of them: Independence is freedom from the control, influence, coercion, and oppression of other forces. Independence can be a group effort (like a country doing its own thing) or as an individual being a self-sufficient person. Each of us has to decide what is best for ourselves and try to attain it one thing at a time. Here positive reinforcement and support are critical. 

 

Yes, just like Peer Specialists do! 

 

For Independence is not only a word. It can be a feeling, also. Many experts and family, even friends, sometimes tell people with mental health issues independence is impossible. Freedom is impossible as a result of their “illness.” It took me a long time to get to the place where I felt strong and independent. Once I felt like I had finally found my feeling of Independence, I learned what other people say, think, or think about me didn’t matter. Sometimes, it still counts (and hurts), but for the most part, it doesn’t matter. 

For many years, I have struggled to figure out where my Independence is given my anxieties and obsessive thoughts. However, I’ve learned and practiced coping throughout my journey. 

  

Independence doesn’t mean we have to isolate or feel alone. Asking for help is OK. Know when and where to ask for it. Reach out and talk with someone special or anyone that can assist or ask for accommodations. 

 

Independence doesn’t mean not caring what people are saying to you and about you. It’s letting individuals know enough is enough and telling them when to stop.

Independence doesn’t mean taking on tons of work or responsibilities. Learning to say no. Remember, ‘no’ is a complete sentence. We are only one person, and we can handle so much.  

 

Independence doesn’t mean having lots of friends. It means figuring out what type of person we want to be surrounded by and then doing just that. 

 

Independence doesn’t mean doing whatever we want. It means prioritizing and making important decisions that will affect the rest of our life. No one individual can do whatever that he/she chooses to do.

 

Most importantly, Independence means being proud of what we have accomplished and all we’ve been through in life—not being ashamed of our past mistakes and the struggles of our life. 

 

Of course, I shared Independence and responsibilities for over twelve years with my significant other, Maureen. There were good times and bad times. Significantly, we became more independent because of one another. Also, my deceased parents tried to instill Independence in me. To everyone who attempted to accomplish this, dead or alive, thanks a lot. Of course to all, I miss you, I love you, and I still wish you were here. 

 

For all USA readers, HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA! For everyone, be and have Independence from whomever we choose. See you in the NewsBlogs. 

Feed Your Head (says Grace Slick)

It was not until tonight that I realized “no one here gets out alive.”

Fleeing, escaping and running away are not good answers.  There is good and bad wherever you go.

The trick is managing your own head.

I played my playlist over and over during the past few weeks.  I had to endure a weekend in the country with husband and brother-in-law. It all seemed very middle class, and, if somewhat boring, at least within the confines of normal living.

In dealing with my head I believe change of environment is very important to perspective. For the mental Health consumer, switching off environments can be helpful in avoiding panic attacks, angst, and other symptoms.

There needs to be a balance of familiarity and novelty in environments.  Some people think this isn’t always possible. I found, for myself, when in desperate straits for a change in surroundings and perspective, that looking out different windows in the apartment,  or changing up the room plan, or just moving from room to room periodically can help boredom in a pinch.

Going away for the weekend, or hopping a plane to Somewheresville, USA is even better.

As you get older symptoms get harder to handle, especially if you’ve achieved the prize of living independently in the community with little professional intervention.

So, the weekend in the country? It was tough as a mother because of interactions.  Just as a balance between the familiar and the strange is important in gaining perspective, there has got to be a balance of solitude and interaction for the mental health consumer.

The playlist is important in feeding the head, as are visuals like TV and movies. Reading books, blogs and articles are good for the gray matter as well.  If there are tasks and work to do, so much the better.

If you write blogs, feeding the head is paramount.  If you are a consumer struggling with symptoms like catatonia and depression, a good diet for the head gets the mental wheels turning and keeps them well oiled.

I love my flights into fantasy, my magic carpet rides. I struggle with demons anyway.  Change of environment, a balance of interaction, music, visuals and the written word are all part of what the Red Queen said-

“Feed your head, feed your head...”

The Value of Good Complex Case Management for Comorbid Psychiatric Issues

In the battle of maintaining mental health, unique tools may be needed when desperate times call for them. Understanding what tools are needed for specific circumstances can make the difference that keeps life from falling apart. 

In terms of adjusting, complex mental health conditions such as schizoaffective are complicated by physical ailments such as a brain injury. In this circumstance, the therapist may utilize specific tools to simplify the person’s life and allow for functioning to run more smoothly. 

One such tool that I have had to utilize is speech therapy due to a cognitive-communication disorder caused by my brain injury. Www. Healthline.com states that cognitive-communication conditions can result in memory issues, problems in problem-solving, difficulty speaking, or difficulty listening.  

Although I have had my brain injury for nearly 14 years, I find that maintaining my presence in speech therapy once yearly can help to keep me from slipping too far into the maze of disorganization. 

Speech therapy is probably better known for children, but speech therapy for adults can help adults with speech, language, and cognitive-communication (www.healthline.com). 

I initially needed speech therapy at the hospital following my physical recovery. Still, I went for close to ten years after my hospital discharge before anyone determined that I needed speech therapy again. Yet, the main push that made neuropsychological evaluation necessary was acquiring more independent living after eight years of group home living—the results of this evaluation, in turn, allowed for a speech therapy script from my neurologist. In turn, a neurologist was assigned to my team because of an overnight emergency room visit resulting from dizziness. 

The neurologist initially prescribed for dizziness and speech therapy due to other conditions evaluated by my neurologist. Once I was in speech therapy, tools were used, such as flashcards, to help me form word associations better. The treatment team heavily emphasized the pragmatic re-organization of objects in my room. The team and I determined that thinking would be made more apparent through a more structured environment. 

Speech therapy alone was not an automatic cure-all to my disorganization and trouble structuring my life. Thankfully, with the combined approaches in therapy, my skills at cooking, shopping, and organizing my living space only continued to improve dramatically. 

The speech therapist provided tips for forming a grocery list and provided quizzes in memory and cognition that I found especially difficult. 

Therapy helped my independence progress to my current situation. I am now living in a residential neighborhood. 

These were some tough times that highlighted the need for speech therapy. At the time of my neuropsychological evaluation in 2016, my concentration, memory, and ability to form complete sentences were in slipshod condition. Some of this may have been affected by my schizoaffective disease, but my traumatic brain injury allowed for a speech therapy script. 

The intensive Speech therapy at a rehabilitative agency assisted with my speaking. With time and careful and comprehensive work, the very structure and semblance of the order became more visible in my apartment and living situation. 

However, my efforts were not always enough, and on two occasions, I was given rental violations due to my disorganized apartment. 

Communication is critical in complex case and care management due to .my brain injury’s complexity. Without question, I had a more challenging time living up to the standards needed to survive in the treatment apartment system. Yet the only way anyone ever understood I needed a neurologist Is because I spent a night in the medical emergency room. Yet I had complained Of dizziness for years. If my TBI condition was this serious, then why did no one ever consider that some of my problems could have resulted from this? 

If my brain injury was considered a critical comorbid issue requiring careful planning, the transition might have been easier. However, my brain injury wasn’t considered in the larger clinical picture at work by the psychiatric establishment. While the oversight may have had to do with poor care coordination and the transfer to a psychiatric ward, I was transferred to the state psychiatric hospital after the brain injury rehab unit dropped the ball. 

The reason for this quick shift out of the brain injury rehab unit was the insurance running out. However, being given more time for recuperating would have helped things move along so much better. At the very least better communication from one level of care to another could have ensured that the transition to independence would have been smoother. 

Yet as taught by my counselor, gratitude for my present situation helps offset additional mistakes. However, I do know that in my position, more than feel-good coping skills. Ultimately, I think this is the case for the mental health system—greater awareness of a whole person, which will allow for smoother transitions and more minor crises.

Melancholy

‘Depression’ is a word that anyone can use, whether clinically trained or not. It therefore tends to be over-used.

It needs to be differentiated from ‘sadness’, which is the normal feeling associated with unfortunate events.

The deliberately complex term ‘involutional melancholia’ helps to identify a clinical state in which we turn in on ourselves, even when there is nothing particularly distressing in our current lives.

Laymen would be unlikely to use this term.

But, if they were to do so, their doctors would hopefully learn to avoid the automatic prescribing of an antidepressant.

By recognising that an involutional
melancholia comes from within, doctors and patients alike may separate this from sadness caused by external circumstances.

They may also come to see that an involutional melancholia is the precursor of addictive behaviour.

In effect, the states of ‘depression’ and ‘addiction’ are the same thing, before and after ‘treatment’ with a mood-altering substance or process.

This explains why ‘antidepressants’ are addictive.

Antidepressants are a curse in modern Medicine.

Sufferers from ‘depression’ have fearful difficulties in trying to come off antidepressants because they revert to their involutional melancholia.

This would be more appropriately treated with the Twelve Step programme.

They are vastly over-prescribed, they are ineffective and addictive. That’s a triple whammy if ever there was one!

Getting through the vicissitudes of coronavirus incarceration or illness will certainly not be assisted by antidepressants. At best they put people into limbo land.

When Creativity Calls, When Your Alibi is Art

Those long ago, dust covered years when I attended Barnard for the express purpose of studying writing come back to me finally for analysis.  I had transferred from a mid-western school because it was too confining, too rigid, not fluid enough for me.  I wanted to be a writer.  Only Barnard had a Program in the Arts.  In retrospect, the program was not well organized or thought out, but it did present accomplished artists as teachers, and the students had more than enough freedom to indulge whatever vehicle they chose for creativity.

I remember the musicians, the visual artists, actors, poets and writers well.  However, the program was a bit too fluid for me.  I have come to think that the program might well have profited from a well thought out structure, a syllabus of study that anchored the artists, taught them the business end of marketing themselves, and at the same time permitted artistic license needed for young, creative students.

Around the same time I registered for class I walked into a shrink’s office. 

I did not know it then, but the medication I received provided a sort of structure that my academic program did not.  I suffered from confusion, mental disorganization and the general angst of the pubescent. Not getting any guidance, I decided myself to pursue college as it was age appropriate and there did not seem to be much else to do, and I plunged myself into the study of the creative arts because that was a life-long desire I was clear about. The future appeared unclear and nebulous.  I accepted this as part of the artistic life and maneuvered the life of the creative artist as best I could.

With psychotherapy I became aware of Jungian theory among other psychological approaches.  I exhibited a talent for psychology, insight and analytic thought. I had a ravenous interest in texts on anxiety and abnormal psychology,  probably because I related to it in my own experience.  My attempts to fuse this with the writing were disappointing.  

While much of my creative work was well-received, I finished the program with less stellar reviews, my work was deemed “confused and muddy.”

The life of the writer is interesting for its financial endeavors.  How does the writer or poet support his creative habit?  For years I wandered through clerical and secretarial jobs, temporary and permanent.  My life became chaotic as I tried to integrate art, finance, relationships and growing alarm at my own psychological dysfunction.  At thirty I pretty much collapsed in a messy heap, and it is to the credit of the psychiatric profession that I found a way to put together the various parts of my personality in a way that was socially acceptable.

The Bronx REAL was an acronym for Rehabilitation and Education in the Art of Living. 

It is here that I found creativity in therapeutic work like answering phones, filing, cleaning and the like.  I started keeping journals which eventually evolved into poetry and the venues for verbal art opened up for me finally after years of patchwork attempts at creating an integrated body of work.

Quite simply Jung wrote of art as an avenue to mental health.  However in my personal journey I found structure and discipline to be equally important.  Graduate study and homemaking worked hand in hand to feed the creative fire I had ignited in my soul. 

Forty years after college, three books later, I call myself an artist. 

A verbal artist, a mental artist, and a woman who gleans creative food from the simple tasks of washing dishes, doing laundry and straightening up the apartment so I can sit down and create something at the computer.

 

Mental Health Affairs 2022

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