"Hello from CBC Thunder Bay..."

I receive a number of emails each week from people who choose not to comment. Anonymity is the most common reason, but this week, anonymity was clearly not why Lisa Laco wrote to me.

The subject line of her message was "Hello from CBC Thunder Bay" and what followed was a touching and, at times, a rousing, even funny account of how she's learned to live with and decidedly not suffer from ... depression. 

"Let's get some facts straight," she wrote. "No, I've never been locked away. I don't think people tip-toe around me, afraid of my reactions. I haven't wandered the streets, mumbling to myself. These are just some of the images that accompany mental illness. But it's not that way. At least it hasn't been for me, or any of my family. And I have quite a family history of depression."

Lisa vividly recounted her mother's endless struggles with depression and all the painful treatments she had to endure, including ECT. Lisa comes by her depression "honestly," she stated. "Her mother, her aunts, her sisters have all been diagnosed with depression or manic depression. At one time, the accepted treatment included amphetamines. My mother, grandmother and great aunt were all at our house, remodelling. I think they managed to tear down walls, repaint and re-paper an entire house within a week. 'Speed' lets you do that!"

At the bottom of her long, bold face declaration, for that is how it felt as I read it, Lisa stated this:

"I'm the host of the morning show at CBC Radio in Thunder Bay ... I speak regularly here about the joy of living with mental illness ... thought I'd share a recent speech with you ... just to let you know you're not alone ... never alone."

The first thing I did was look up Lisa Laco on the CBC website. Her show is called The Great Northwest

and she's been at CBC in Thunder Bay since 1992. Her picture is on the website along with her bio.

I quickly sent her an email, asking if she would mind if I wrote about her. She responded quickly. "I would be thrilled as it might help someone somewhere look for help."

Then she called me a few hours later and left a message. When we finally touched base and spoke 24 hours later, she was more than happy to elaborate on her own story. 

About "the joy of living with mental illness," Lisa said, "How about acceptance and perhaps a joyful acceptance by knowing who I am – foibles and accomplishments – and accepting who I am. It's brought a certain joy, a peace, a calmness. I'm glad I have depression because it explains so much of my life. As a little girl, I always felt guilty, inadequate. I didn't deserve to be happy. Underneath, I was a failure, just waiting to be caught out. I thought this was a normal way of thinking." 

She was the eldest of six children, all under the age of 10. "I vaguely remember my grandparents saying that part of my mother's problem was her children – us, too many of us – and I think this could have been the genesis of my guilt, that just by being alive, around, I was a problem for my mom," Lisa said. 

Despite having these feelings, Lisa, now 52, was able to follow her dream of being in radio, like her uncle CBC's Harry Brown, one of the original co-hosts with Barbara Frum of the groundbreaking CBC radio show As It Happens. She started in private radio and ultimately ending up with CBC in Thunder Bay, where she's happily married a second time and has raised her two sons. About 12 years ago at a family reunion with her five siblings, she discovered that two of her four sisters were also struggling with depression.

Until then, she had never told a soul about her feelings of guilt and inadequacy. "That would not make me 'cool' and I was terrified of being found out as weird. I don't confide in friends easily. I'm more of a listener," she said.

"That conversation at a downtown bar in St. John's was a revelation. Of course, I had depression as well. Wow! What an emotional moment! It explained so much. I literally felt exuberant. What I had always been feeling was not a normal way to feel." 

Back in Thunder Bay, she immediately told her doctor that she needed help and she start taking "good old Paxil." It took a few years, but what a difference. "Night and Day. I could cope." Two years ago, she spent a year in Cognitive Behavioural Therapy with a psychiatrist developing additional coping "tools" to deal with her depression, in addition to her medication. 

Her therapist, Dr. Paul Mulzer of Lakehead Psychiatric Hospital, "once told me that it's okay to talk about any illness that affects you from the 'neck down' but from the 'neck up' makes people uncomfortable." But nevertheless, about six years ago, she felt confident enough to let some of her co-workers know about her depression. 

"I'd even joke about taking my 'happy pill' and no one seemed shocked. It was all matter of fact," Lisa said. "At that point, I realized I didn't care who knew and that's when I must have made a subconscious decision to go public. I remember talking to my boss at the time, and saying, 'I'm going to do this on air. I'm not going to be exploitive or maudlin. I'm going to be matter of fact. So it began."

She did a two-part interview with her Dr. Mulzer focusing on depression and the negative stereotypes, discrimination and prejudices too many people have about mental illnesses. 

"I'm known as an upbeat host. I have fun at my job. I'm energetic and I believe strongly that it's important for people to know that you can have a mental illness and function every day in society. Hold down a job and not a menial job, but a job with substance," Lisa said.

"Most importantly, to not be afraid of being known as the crazy lady down the street. I've participated in a public awareness campaign here in Northwestern Ontario. My face is on billboards. I've spoken at numerous events about this. I've never, ever had a negative reaction. I think honestly that people would be afraid to react negatively because I'm so positive about life. I'm happy. I sound happy. I can survive, but I never mention my own battle with depression when the occasion warrants it. If I'm doing an interview about this, I always make sure it's part of the interview, on air."

Lisa stresses that she talks quite freely about her depression. "I don't really care who knows. My family, my husband and two sons, know this about me and I think it helps them to hear me talk about it. The more I talk, the more they realize that they are not the cause. They are not the problem. It's 'my' illness. It's not their fault. That's my greatest concern. I don't want my children to experience what I did, spending years and years thinking it was all my fault."

Recently, Lisa has taken up running. "It's fabulous therapy. You cleanse your mind when you're running. It's just one foot in front of another," she said.

"When you run, you concentrate on nothing but your next step. You're semi-focused and it's simple. That's the joy of life, of living with a mental illness or living in any other way. Life can be complicated or it can be simple. It depends on how you deal with it. I now know I can simplify a lot of my emotions and feelings by asking the pertinent questions, questions from my therapist. Like, 'Where's the evidence of that?" or 'Why are you a failure? Where the evidence?'

"Break things down to their basic fears – emotions – and analyse where it comes from. One step at a time. One foot in front of the other. You can figure it out."

Lisa, thank you for so generously sharing these lessons for living and the story of your life. It certainly resonates with me and I'm sure they'll resonate for everyone who reads them. It's an uplifting story of recovery. Your recovery. 

I want to end this post with a quote from a book by my friend, Dr. Ron Pies, clinical professor of psychiatry at Tufts University in Boston at S.U.N.Y. Upstate Medical University in Syracuse N.Y. He sent me this book, one of many he's written, but this one is very special. It's called Everything Has Two Handles – A Stoic's Guide to the Art of Living (Hamilton Books). I keep it beside my bed and read it before turning out the light. Since I started this little ritual, I've been sleeping more easily and more soundly every night. Waking up more refreshed.

From his chapter on "Living in the Here and Now," Pies writes:"One of the great liberating ideas of Stoic philosophy is the concept of 'present contentment.' In effect, the Stoic says, 'I can't change the past; I can't really determine or control the future; so the best I can do is live a life of decency and integrity – right here , right now."

Comments

[Sandy Naiman]

I have received almost no feedback on this post, which confounds me a bit. One person emailed me and wrote:

"I just read your most recent blog entry, and I want to thank you for giving me hope. I have had a rather down week and have felt despairing and sad. It was inspiring to hear Lisa Laco's story from Thunder Bay. I think all of us with a mental illness can relate to her struggles with guilt and shame. Yet, finally it was heartening to feel her liberation when she could confide in her siblings and even interview her doctor on air and finally the final victory of revealing her illness to fellow employees.

"In addition, your quote from Dr. Ron Pies I found very intriguing, it made me want to go looking for his book."

I simply want to add this. I would ask that if you do feel "guilt" or "shame" that you question why? Your feelings and emotions are real. No matter what explanation you choose to believe, ask yourself "why do I feel this way?" And then, "what is the evidence of that?" And finally, "why am I guilty? What am I guilty of? What is there to be ashamed about?"

We are human. Sometimes I wake up in the morning, as I did today, not feeling well. Not on top of my game. That's life. We are not machines and cannot be expected to feel good all the time. That would make us automatons. Robots. Inhuman. Who wants that?

There will be better mornings. That, I know. But, I refuse to allow guilt or shame to enter into the equation. There's no reason for it. Try, if you possibly can, to talk yourself out of it. Feeling depressed is tough enough. You can acknowledge that.

Feeling guilty and ashamed on top of that depression is unnecessary, so fight it. Don't let it get it to you.

There's no need. You are human and to be human means to be fallible and imperfect. Accept that part of yourself and put one foot ahead of the other. Carry on. Things will get better.

[Deb]

I think it's really important to keep talking about depression, manic depression, and even my new diagnosis of Asperger's syndrome. We have to make talking about diseases of the head as normal as talking about diseases below the neck. It's only when we keep on about it that the stigma, finally, will be gone. I still find myself, actually, saying "oh maybe I shouldn't write about that, people might think me crazy".

Good for you Sandy! And great news from Lisa. Bravo to her for going public.

[Ken Brown]

Lisa, it took guts for me to read this, let alone try to verbalize it, as you have. It's been hard for me to put my life in perspective, so much self destructive behavior, but finally it was acknowledgement of my depression that liberated me from the same feelings you experienced. As your next oldest brother, I remember too well the environment that we were exposed to due to this terrible disease, and our Mom's relentless struggle to find happiness. I know now, as you do, that depression can be dehabilitating at times, and many do not understand those who are afflicted. I'm proud of you Sis!

[Tammy MacKenzie]

I think guilt and shame go hand in hand with the whole issue of ignorance and fear of mental/emotional illness and those who suffer from it - including the sufferer (is that a legit word? lol). When my PTSD/anxiety/depression peaked and I was in crisis, I was isolated because I was in physical pain and couldn't do much, and I had a lot of anger (versus melancholia). My 2 closest friends pretty much abandoned me until I was willing to help myself/accept help (according to their definition) and/or have a "better attitude". I had been in a support group, which ended for the summer, had crisis counselling - which ended, seen my doctor numerous times for my physical issues, and had been referred for additional crisis counselling, which I never got. I had no access to anything else. I ended up feeling inadequate, a failure at "getting better", and questioned whether I had in fact actually tried to help myself enough, my own perspectives and understandings, etc. I won't even get into what being a single, sole support parent of an 8 year old at the time was doing to me in terms of guilt...
I now understand that it wasn't me, but the ignorence and expectations of other people, and their inability or unwillingness to understand and accept that I was ill, and incapacitated by my illness - as much so as if I had pneumonia or a stroke, epilepsy or a broken leg. I had no control over it, nor was I a willing participant.
The key, as always, is education.
Until it is understood and accepted that mental/emotional illness, injury and disorders are as real and commonplace as physical ones, and have nothing to do with a person's character, personality and "value", the fear and ignorance will continue to foster guilt and shame.
It is we, the sufferers, who must do the educating, and so thank you, Sandy and Lisa, for what you do.
Reality is that without a forum, without credibility of profession, fame, power or money, very feww people canspeak up and be heard.
You ladies are doing wonderful things.
Tammy

[Zoe_53]

I was diagnoised Bi-polar 13 years ago, at the age of 42, however I had been depressed, manic, and even gone through a couple of short pschotic episodes, since my early 20's, I just didn't know what was happenng to me. I always knew that I was different from the rest of my family/friends and because of that I worked very hard to hide it. I told no one of my crazy thoughts/fears or feelings. I was very much alone in it. I learned to cope this way and it worked for over 20 years. I was very sucessful in my career, but between that, a bad marriage and then I finally had a child it all came tumbling down on me after my divorce.
I finally got help and was hospitalized for 4 months, put on meds and stabalized. That was in 96, I was shocked to learn what was wrong with me, but considering I had a grandmother who was schizophrenic it really should not of come as any big surprize! My family was not supportive, my friends who found out left me, so I learned very quickly not to tell. For several years I told no one, then I decided that how would we ever get rid of this stigma around mental illness if no one ever spoke about it. I was doing really well, my meds were keeping me stable, I was raising my son, I had my own home, I was working , I did community work, it was time I felt. I was active in my church and the womens group asked me to be the speaker at the yearly womens lunch. I took this opportunity to speak about mental illness, and my personal experience with it. To my horror, many of my so called friends stopped speaking to me. Things were never the same. I thought maybe I was being overly sensitive, and I told one of my neighbours whom I had developed a good friendship with over the past 3 years. I thought this would be a good time to let her know. She turned on me. Our friendship ended, it was then I realized that I couldn't tell people. I had been on my own with my son since 95, I finally met someone in 2000, he was a smart, kind warm man. We were together for 2 years when it came time to let him know because we were talking marriage. I felt sure this would be ok, he had always seen me stable, he also had his degree in psychology and taught it at the post seconday level.
How wrong I was once again. His feelings for me changed after this and his "love" turned to "like" and eventually he left. I felt so betrayed. I have learned never to tell. Even when I need to speak to someone when I'm having a bad time, I don't. I trust no one. My family blames every thing on my bi-polar, so if I have an opinion different than theirs, that they don't like, it's not that I have a differnt opinion, it's that I'm bi-polar, so my opinion means nothing. My behaviour has not been that bad, I have not been in trouble, I have not had substance abuse problems, I have always taken care of myself & my son.I run my own business that is very sucessful, and I work hard. I ask no one for anything. Yes, when manic I have yelled at them, but usually because they have crossed my boundaries, which they don't understand. I'm not entitled to boundaries in their minds.
How does one get past this? I do believe the only way to solve this is to speak out, but at what cost? I have stayed single because I am terrified to even think about having to tell someone again. Do I feel cursed, no, so why does the world look at me that way? I am simply different, and different is not always bad. I know I have rambled on, but I just wanted to express my experiences with speaking out on my bi-polar.
I applaude those who do, and I applaude even more those who are truly accepting of their family/ friends with mental illnesses and treat them as they do everyone else.
That's all I want is to be treated like everyone else.Thats all any of us want.