again, please don't be crazy.

So, yes I'm cheating by re-posting an earlier entry, but this one has been at the forefront of my mind and heart lately. While all the talk about gun control and changes that need to be made to gun laws are important, there is another major issue that needs to be addressed; treating the mentally ill who are often the hands, faces, and minds behind these heinous crimes. These are the people who need a brother, somewhere, to "be their keeper." In the midst of all the arguing and debating, don't turn a blind eye to a major piece of solving the puzzle; getting help for the mentally ill. 

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

In light of the tragedy in a Colorado movie theater and the recent news story about Jared Lee Loughner, the man who shot congresswoman, Gabby Giffords, injured twelve others, and killed six, I feel that there is an issue, an ensuing crisis in our country that needs to be addressed. I believe it’s a crisis of magnificent proportions and, unless we take action now, all signs indicate that this crisis is only going to get worse. My views on these recent shootings may not be popular but here goes.

The event that spurred me to write this entry was the court proceedings that took place this past week in which Loughner appeared before a judge and pleaded guilty to nineteen of the forty-nine crimes he was charged with. For the most part this decision was favorably received because it meant that the victims and their families would be spared an agonizing trial. Gabby Giffords and her husband, Mark Kelly, said in a statement, “that [they] were satisfied with the proposed plea agreement.”

This hearing was much different than the one that took place in May, 2011. On that day, Loughner was removed from court after an outburst in which the Arizona Republic quoted him as saying, “Thank you for the free kill. She died in front of me. Your cheesiness.” At this point Loughner still believed he had killed Giffords.

But on this August day, 2012 the Judge presiding, Larry A. Burns had this to say about the change in Loughner’s manner and presence, “He is a different person in his appearance and his effect than when I first laid eyes on him.”

Clearly something had changed. The federal psychologist appointed to this case, Dr. Christina Pietz, commented on these changes. “Loughner is severely mentally ill, one of the worst I’ve treated. But I believe he can function in the general population.” What was the change?  Medication. In fact, Loughner’s treatment was stopped at one point to ensure that he was not being forcibly medicated. But after another incident in July 2011, prison officials decided to require the medication again. This time the 9^th circuit court upheld the decision to medicate him.

Pietz saw Loughner nearly every day and described the changes that had taken place, “At first he thought he had killed Giffords. However, after time, Loughner began to express remorse.” ‘I especially cried about the child,’  Pietz quoted him as saying about Christina-Taylor Green. Loughner told Pietz that he “deserved the death penalty and that he realized the consequences of his actions.”

There were signs that Loughner struggled with mental illness long before the shooting incident. Based on his journal, Pietz concluded that he had shown signs of depression since 2006 and may have developed symptoms of schizophrenia in his junior year of high school. Classmates at Pima Community College described him as a strange and eccentric student; professors spoke of his “disorganized thought process,” Dr. Pietz said.

The NY Times reported that Loughner’s parents testified that at one point he asked them if they could hear the same voices he had been hearing. In written answers to her questions, his parents told Pietz they were worried he would kill himself. In videos he made, Mr. Loughner said that, he, “felt depressed, and that he had the urge to kill someone.”

Clearly, Loughner was struggling with both schizophrenia and depression, but once he began a treatment, he was a completely different person. You may be thinking that all I’m doing in this entry is defending a horrible monster. In actuality, I’m not. I’m remembering those who were victims of his rampage.

You see, I was a person who was capable of doing horrific things in a state of undiagnosis. I've shared often that pre-diagnosis I frequently considered suicide, but that's not the whole story. The night I was hospitalized I went psychotic and, in that state, who knows what I might have done. But for the grace of God maybe that jail cell could have been mine.

Which leads me to a question. Why do you suppose so many people who commit crimes of this magnitude are known to have struggled with some form of mental illness? It’s not coincidence, folks. It’s a pattern; one that’s occurring all too often. Locking the mentally ill up after the crime has been committed may be a short-term solution, but in the long run wouldn’t it be better to get these people help before it’s too late. Randy Gardner, who was one of Loughner’s victims decried the lack of mental-health care for people like Loughner saying, “We really have to be our brother’s keeper here and reach out and get them help.”

I couldn’t agree more. I believe that many crimes such as these are preventable. I can say this with confidence because medication has literally saved my life. Much like Judge Burns described Loughner as being “a different person,” that is how I feel about myself. For me going off meds isn't even an option. I know what my life was like before I took them. It was, awful, horrible, a dark place that I never want to go back to.

Here’s the deal folks; mental illness is real. It is ugly. And, unless it’s dealt with beforehand, it can be lethal. In the end it’s about being our brother’s keeper; getting help for the mentally ill, but it’s also about ensuring that there will be no more innocent victims like Christina-Taylor Green.

 

Goodness Again

 . . . it is very well worthwhile to be tormented for two or three years of one’s life, for the sake of being able to read all the rest of it. ~ Jane Austen

1.   Tormented past participle, past tense of tor·ment (Verb)

Verb:

1.   Cause to experience severe mental or physical suffering: "he was tormented by jealousy".

Have you ever felt this way?  Tormented.  I think it’s safe to say that in the human experience, we all have felt this distressed at one time or another.  I know I have - especially in terms of my mental illness.  Life was pretty miserable for me before I was diagnosed.  On bad days it was all I could do just to swing my legs out of bed, place them on the floor, and drag myself into the day.  No, I sure didn’t wake up feeling like sunshine and hop to my feet eager to face the day.  Those were my bad days.  On my really bad days, suicide was constantly at the back of my mind.  I contemplated it, and the only thing that kept me moving was the knowledge that God didn’t mean for my story to end like that – he had a better ending planned.

I don’t know about anyone else, but while I struggled through those dark days, one book of the Bible was a vast source of hope, comfort, and refuge - the book of Psalms.  I especially loved the ones penned by the shepherd-king, David.  Many, many of his psalms were ones of anguish, confusion, and suffering.  I could relate to those things.  The fact that he was mentioned as a man after God’s own heart gave me comfort too.  Just because he was named as such didn’t mean he was afraid to ask the bigger questions of God – why this suffering, this pain, why was this his lot to bear?  If David who was a man after God’s own heart could ask tough questions, so could I.  God wasn’t going to abandon me or turn away from me. 

In fact running away from him and hiding was exactly the opposite of what I believe God wanted me to do.  I got the feeling that God would rather I pound him with my fists than run away and hide.   And that’s exactly what David did.  If you know the history of this king, you know that his life was anything but easy.  So when it came to asking the tough questions of God, he didn’t hold back.  In psalm after psalm, David exposed his pain out of a heart filled with anguish.  One of my favorite psalms written by him is Psalm 27.  I could write the entire thing it’s so good, but instead I’ll just share two key verses. 

Psalm 27: 13-14  I am . . . confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.  Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.

And that’s exactly what I did.  I waited for the Lord, expecting an answer, anticipating an end to the suffering – waiting for his goodness to rain down on me as welcome as a spring shower falling on a dry and parched land.  So many years later I am happy to report that welcome rain has fallen on my life.  I’m on good meds. I have a faithful and loving husband who has stuck with me through the ups and downs of living with bipolar.  I have two beautiful children.  Most importantly, I have a faithful, loving God who has brought much goodness into my life. 

If you’re feeling hopeless, if you don’t think you can make it through one more day, hold on.  Don’t give up.  Don’t give in.  Believe.  Just believe.  Jane Austen had it right.  Being tormented for a brief time is worth all the pain you endure, because you are able to “read the rest of life” in many unexpected ways.  Or as a good track coach once said to me, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.”  They both had it right.  Most of all, King David had it right.  You will see the goodness of the Lord again.  And when you need to pound your fists on God, do it.  Don’t be afraid to ask the tough questions.  I’m pretty sure he’s big enough to handle them. 

crazy, random thoughts

Always start an entry thinking I have nothing to say.  I think you've all realized that by the time I get into it, something is definitely on my mind.  Funny how that happens.  Yesterday, I woke up feeling pretty okay, but about an hour or so into my day, depression struck.  It just hit me out of nowhere - wham, like a baseball bat to the head.   In the whole scheme of the bipolar life, I would way rather deal with a manic episode than a bout of depression.  After all, when I'm manic it feels good, I feel good, life feels good.  I'm flying high.  The only bad thing about these highs?  The lows are inevitably going to follow.  So I bounce from one extreme to the other, especially when my bipolar is getting out of control.  Don 't get me wrong, I am much more stable than I've ever been.  Right meds, right dosages, feels good.  But even on medication, I have "flare-up days" when bipolar holds me captive to its whims. 

Depression, for me, feels like I'm carrying a ball and chain around with me wherever I go.  I can do what needs to be done, but it takes so much effort to complete even the smallest of tasks.  Sometimes, on days when I'm depressed, it takes all the self control I can muster, to make myself get out of bed, get going, and be productive.  On my worst days, it's all I can do not to crawl back into bed, pull the covers over my head, and check out of life for awhile.  Depression is tough.  I wasn't diagnosed bipolar until I was 31 years old, and in someways I am glad for this.  I think all the years of going undiagnosed and still dealing with the illness, made me find my own coping methods.  For instance, when I was feeling depressed, I learned to push through and get things done anyway.  The ball and chain were always with me, mind you, but I learned to carry them along.  In that way I became stronger, more prepared, for life after diagnosis.  Now that I'm on meds, the ball and chain don't exist most days.  Even on the days when they begin to pull me down, my coping methods kick in.  I keep pressing on until,  lo and behold, I'm feeling just a little bit better, a little bit stronger.  I guess my point is this.  Although medication is a HUGE key to my staying healthy, it is not the only one.  I still have to learn to fight through the depression, or learn to calm my mind when I'm becoming manic.  It's not always easy, but with the right medications I find it is much easier than it used to be. 

Should I say anything about Charlie Sheen?  The reporter who interviewed him made the comment that some thought he could be bipolar.  Watching the few clips that I did, he seemed very manic, but I wouldn't even pretend to think I could diagnose him.  Of course, when the reporter addressed this (bipolar) issue with him, he poo-pooed it and said something to the effect of "So if I'm bipolar, then what? Medication? Not gonna happen." If he truly is bipolar, I feel sorry for him.  Because if he's not willing to get help, he's headed down a path where he's almost certain to self-destruct at some point.  Medications are our friends, people, not our enemies. 

Another side note.  In my hometown, the local news carried a story about a mother who stabbed her daughter, her husband, set fire to her house, and then stabbed herself.  The day before this all happened she'd been doing research on the Internet - two different searches;  ways to commit suicide and medications for depression.  When I read this story, I thought to myself,  'How sad. She was at a crossroads where she could either get the help she needed, or end the life that seemed unbearable to her.'  How I wish she would have chosen differently.  And I wonder - why didn't she?  What kept her from reaching for help?  If you're reading this and you think you just can't live another day, if you're at a crossroads of your own, choose the higher path - get help.  Don't end it all just because you think you can't take it anymore.  Believe me when I tell you, it can get better, life can be better.  Hold on, but more importantly, reach for help.  You have two choices to make.  Which road are you going to take?  Don't be a Charlie Sheen.  Don't let pride, or fear, or ignorance be your undoing.  Life is too precious for that.