Coming Out In Class...

It may surprise you to learn that I've never "come out" in any of my classes, and certainly not at the beginning of a new school term.

But yesterday, the first day of school, I did. I've never done it before. Here's what happened.

My class began at 8 a.m. It's a double-period class. I arrived at the Newnham campus of  Seneca College more than an hour early, at about 6:55 a.m. I knew had a tiny class – with only nine students registered. If I was lucky, maybe six would show up. 

8 a.m. classes are loathed and shunned by students. They're never awake at 8 a.m. If they take an 8 a.m. class, usually it's because they need it and it's the only one that fits into their timetables. 

Naturally, I was nervous. I always am on the first day – and tomorrow, I'll have another "first day" at another campus. So I'm nervous again, right now.

Yesterday, I was wondering exactly what I going to do with such a tiny group. I was anxious, too. I wanted to make a good first impression. So, I was up until close to 1 a.m. on Monday morning preparing and twigging my lesson plan. Then the alarm went off at 5 a.m. yesterday morning. I was running on raw energy. No gas.

My husband teaches at Humber and was dropping me off en route to his Lakeshore Campus a full 50 kilometres from where we live.

Was I tired? Not until the class ended. I was too excited at the prospect of meeting the students who will be my top priority for the next 13 weeks. I treat my classroom as a community and my job is to do everything I can to ensure the members of this community are successful and leave my course with invaluable Leadership skills and an understanding of the process of leadership -- grounded in communication, teamwork, self-awareness. If all goes well, this course can be life-changing through the Community Service they are required to complete over the term. 

I teach an elective, a Gen Ed in the School of English and Liberal Studies. It can be a little precarious at the beginning of term. Students often shop around during the first two weeks of classes before deciding which course they want to commit to. It's a bit of a popularity contest, though I've learned not to take it personally. Yesterday, with only nine students registered, I was especially worried. I didn't want to lose them especially because my class is action-oriented, filled with activities. The more students, the better.

The course I teach is called "Leadership in Society" -- subtitled "for college students who want to make a difference."

Leadership is a process. Leaders are not born, they're made. Leadership is all about relationships. I didn't want to lose any of the few students I had. (At Markham Campus, where I also teach this course, I have about 31 students registered. I'm over the moon – but who knows how many will stay with me.)

I was asked to develop this course which combines leadership training through community service and experiential learning because of my lifelong history of volunteer work in the community and my mental health advocacy. It's a tall order, but since I started to develop it during the Fall of 2007, it's been an extraordinary and steep learning curve for me. 

Towards the end of the class, we were sitting around in a sharing circle, and I asked the seven students who made it to class why they decided to enroll in this course. "If you took it because it fit into your timetable, that's okay. You can tell us," I said. "You can be honest." 

I explained that "Leadership is all about relationships and honesty is vital. Along with integrity and ethics, both part of the Relational Model of Leadership we're going to learn along with the Social Change Model."

Surprisingly, for the first time in three terms, after teaching six different classes of this course, no one took it because it fit their schedules, they said. These are amazing students. Several of them already do community service on a regular basis. Others want to learn leadership for the right reasons – not so they can boss people around. That has been a motivating reason in the past. This term, my students want to take a more active role in their communities through leadership training.

I was over the moon. Teaching a Gen Ed course means you draw students from the entire college, so in this class I have students studying Accounting, Accounting and Finance, International Transportation and Customs, Human Resources and Early Childhood Education. They're also from all over the world, multicultural, delightfully diverse. You have no idea how fascinating this is for all of us because throughout the term we learn to understand each other's cultures. It's such a rich learning experience. At the same time, you never know how these cultures traditionally view people with mental health difficulties, like me.

We were sitting in close together. It was very intimate. Finally, at the end, when my turn came, I explained how this course came into being. I said I developed it because I'm a mental health advocate – that's part of my community service. I told them I have a mental health difficulty and speaking out is the best way for people to learn, understand and be more enlightened about people, like me, with mental health issues. More accepting. More empathetic. (I always show my students my coloured hearing aids, too. A little hearing loss advocacy never hurts, especially because so many young people are permanently damaging their hearing by listening to loud music.)

They listened intensely. Several nodded their heads in agreement. No one seemed shocked or upset. No one ran screaming from the room.

Telling them had felt like a natural thing for me to do. I told them briefly about my life since attending Seneca in 1969 and graduating in 1971 with The Seneca Cup, my education at Queen's University and at Ryerson, my 30 years at The Toronto Sun and coming back to Seneca – full-circle. I mentioned my work as a member of Seneca's Alumni Board. I explained that when they graduated, they would automatically be Alumni. Then, I told them about this blog, Coming Out Crazy at The Star.

I couldn't believe how receptive they were.

And guess what? I just checked my class list. They're all still with me and I now have 15 students registered instead of nine.

Will I disclose in the same way tomorrow, with 31 students in my class? I don't know. It all depends on how I feel and how receptive they seem. Every class has its own culture. 

But if someone asks me why I teach this course, I'll be as honest as I feel I can be.

Rosemary on my mind...

I'm in a quandary. I didn't sleep well last night. 

In the wake of Senator Edward Kennedy's death the other day, and all the news and documentary footage I've been watching about this storied family, I cannot help but think about only one particular Kennedy.

Rose Marie Kennedy. Rosemary. Rosie, to her family.

I will admit off the top, I do not know a great deal about the Kennedy family. I am no expert. But I loved the Kennedy dreams and hopes and, in the case of Teddy, all the good he did for the American people. Yes, those three "boys" – Jack, Bobby and Teddy – had their faults. They made mistakes. (Who hasn't?) They were exuberantly human. Brilliantly so. I don't know why that should be such an issue, when you consider the big picture and all they accomplished and the hope they embodied.

But their sister Rosemary's life was a tragedy that didn't have to happen. Today, it never would.

Rose Marie Kennedy, born on Friday, September 13, 1918 in Brookline, Massachusetts, was the third of the Kennedy children – the first daughter of Rose Fitzgerald and Joseph P. Kennedy.

I don't know for sure all that much about Rosemary because there are too many conflicting accounts of her life and too many questions that remain unanswered. 

Was she brain damaged at birth? Was she slightly mentally retarded? Was she simply not as brilliant and naturally athletic as her extraordinary siblings? Was she more high spirited and exuberant and moody than her brothers and sisters? Was she just a little too different for her controlling father to bear?

What is known for sure is that in 1941 on the recommendation of his doctors, Joseph P. Kennedy insisted that his 23-year-old daughter be given a pre-frontal lobotomy. At that time, Rosemary was the 65th American and according to some reports the only patient with a diagnosis of "mental retardation" to be subjected to this then-radical and experimental treatment.

It was a disaster. This beautiful young woman with a glorious smile who loved attending the opera and tea dances and writing in her diaries, following the surgery, became an incontinent, blubbering child-like soul who stared into space for hours. Her mother was devastated and considered this the first of the calamities that became known as "the Kennedy curse."

In 1949, Rosemary Kennedy was sent to the St. Colletta School for Exceptional Children where she remained for 56 years until her death at the age of 86 of natural causes on January 7, 2005. Her sister, the late Eunice Kennedy Shriver and her brother Teddy Kennedy were at her bedside. In the Kennedy lore, Rosemary is considered the inspiration for the Special Olympics, which the Shrivers initiated and championed.

Two biographies of the Kennedys published in the mid-1990s have different accounts of young Rosemary Kennedy and what led to her lobotomy.

Laurence Leamer, considered an expert on the Kennedys, in his 1994 biography The Kennedy Women: A Saga of an American Family suggests that Rosemary was "mildly mentally retarded" – the most widely accepted story – and a potential problem expecially for her father who feared she may do something to disgrace the family. She may have been brain damaged at birth, but no one knows for sure. Apparently placid and easy going as a child, in her adolescence she developed "violent mood swings" and tended to sneak out of her convent dormitory in the middle of the night, according to Leamer.

On the other hand, conservative journalist and biographer Ronald Kessler in his 1996 biography The Sins of the Father: Joseph P. Kennedy and the Dynasty He Founded, presents another picture. Rosemary, he suggests based on research he conducted, had a mental illness, depression perhaps. 

I don't know what to believe. 

All this petrifies me. Insisting that a 23-year-old woman have a pre-frontal lobotomy because she was considered "mildly mentally retarded" and might be a source of family embarrassment is abhorrent to me. I was sleepless last night. It all harkens back to my concerns about diagnostics and treatments. About what is considered "acceptable behaviour." To whom? 

Rosemary Kennedy never to my knowledge ever hurt a soul. Kessler suggests her story "is the biggest mental health cover-up story in history. Since the public story is still that Rosemary was retarded, the lack of support for mental illness is part of a total lifelong family denial of what was really so." 

Back in the 1940s, the mental illnesses were hugely feared. Enormously mythologized. Ignorance abounded. Along with hideous prejudice and discrimination. Secrecy. No one talked about mental illnesses or wrote about mental health in newspapers or magazines. No one knew anything, compared to what we are beginning to understand about the brain and the mind, today. Including psychiatrists.

Pre-frontal lobotomies were put out to pasture in the 1950s. Dr. Walter Freeman, known as "The Lobotomist" because he was running around the countryside performing thousands of these Draconian procedures, eventually lost his medical licence when one of his patients died.

Finally, pre-frontal and ice-pick lobotomies were replaced by the first antipsychotic medication Chlorpromazine – known as "the chemical lobotomy." That drug was given to me in the early 1960s when I was first hospitalized for mania with a diagnosis of schizophrenia. I remember very little of the experience. It hit me like a sledgehammer and turned me into a "zombie" – I slept for days, I'm told.

Pre-frontal lobotomies were used primarily in cases of schizophrenia back in the 1940s and 1950s. 

That's why the story of Rosemary Kennedy haunts me still. She was never diagnosed with schizophrenia. I'm sure she was well-treated in her Wisconsin institution and cared for with compassion.  

Still, she should never, ever have been given a lobotomy. Poor, dear girl. Now, she would have so many other options, I like to believe. 

I know this. She was born at the wrong time. And perhaps into the wrong family.

Speak soon.

All quiet on the August front...

I'm happy. I'm free. For the next 13 days minus one morning, I am not a part-time community college teacher. I am a blogger. Full-time. Your blogger!

If I have not commented or responded to your recent comments, please forgive me. I read them. I wanted to respond, but I was under a huge gun. Thank you for them, for caring and being so tuned in to me and to each other. That's what community is and we, I believe, are a community. I want us to be.

But now, today, as of 2:40 p.m. this afternoon, the Summer 2009 term at Seneca College is officially over and I am me again, entirely. Not a split personality, driving madly between my life with you, thinking about you, and concerned about you, and my students, and their concerns – trying desperately to get them through my course. If you want a thoughtful and very insightful sense of my life as a part-time community college teacher, read this from The New York Times. My niece, a newly-minted PhD who began teaching today at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh sent it to me and in turn, I've sent it to about 12 of my part-time colleagues, all of whom agree that it was the story of their lives.

Not now, though. 

Right now, I have NOOOOOOOOOOOO students. Yipppppeeeeeee!!!!!!!

So, I want to celebrate. Here I sit, with not a thought on my mind. Well, not quite. I have two deadlines that are niggling at me and I'm going to do something about those. That's a good thing.

You know, it's interesting, but since everyone takes August off, it seems, nothing much is happening in the mental health world. I subscribe to about 20 psychiatry, mental health and bipolar blogs and right now the biggest news story is that Prime Time on ABC is airing a show on Mad Pride in a few minutes – the old violence issue will be a focus. You'd think an outfit like ABC News could come up with something other than this tired stereotype. 

You know what they say. Good news is snooze news, so it's easier to go after a sensational angle that represents a tiny minority of cases than find the real story. When the media does the diagnosing, as often happens with a sensational crime, I wonder how accurate those diagnoses really are. Well, I'm not going to think about it right now. It's borrrrring. 

I'll watch it tomorrow.

Other than that, nothing much is happening in the blogosphere around mental health.

I guess when the psychiatrists, psychologists, social workers and other psychotherapists go on vacation, "illness takes a holiday," too.

Helen Henderson's piece in this paper a few days ago about a British film called "Schizo, the horror story" was, as always, excellent. Have a look. The Brits are light years ahead of us in challenging mental health discrimination and working to end it. That's exactly what this new mini-movie, produced jointly by the British government and Time to Change, a leading mental health charity, is doing.

While the Mental Health of Commission of Canada is "Making the Case for Peer Support" with yet another cross-country, face-to-face consultation and focus group, we're still the only country in the G8 with no National Mental Health Care Strategy. They're still working on it. As if "peer support" is news. It's important. Very important, but I guess since it's August, nothing else is newsworthy. Please.

How many people are able to access Wellness Action Recovery Plan (WRAP) groups in this country? Or Pathways to Recovery? Does the MHCC even mention Mental Health Recovery on its website in any meaningful way?

But you know what? For the next few days, I don't care. I'm going to relax. Take care of business I've neglected. Doctor's appointments. Spend some time with my husband who doesn't recognize me these days. And my Dandies. Read anything that has nothing to do with what I'm going to be teaching in the fall. Go to a movie, if we can find one that appeals to us. And think about some intriguing material to share with you.

The Fall film line-up doesn't look all that promising, but I don't care. The Toronto International Film Festival is around the corner, and that's always intriguing to read about. Right now, though, this minute? I don't care about anything. I haven't a care in the world. Until September 8, when it's back to school.

On one sad but inevitable note. Senator Edward Kennedy has died. A voice for reason and compassion in health care, all health matters. Yes, especially mental health care. When you consider the madness that is exploding south of the border around securing  fair and equitable health care reform so all American people can receive the health care they need, Senator Edward's Kennedy's passing is a true loss and a great tragedy. His voice or reason will be missed.

Be well and speak soon!

Very soon!

Shhhh! Wanna hear a secret?

(Editor's note: this has been modified from the original version to correct an error.)

I wear hearing aids!

It's no secret, really. I started wearing them in December 2005 after my sister Elayne turned to me at a big, noisy social function and said, "You know, you really should look into wearing hearing aids. I'm having trouble communicating with you. Why don't you go and see Jerry?" 

She was right. I had been in denial. I knew I had a problem with my hearing. I just didn't want to face it. Now, I decided to. Head on. Am I ever glad I did.

Jerry, Elayne's husband and my brother-in-law, happens to be the head of the ear, nose and throat department at Toronto's Mount Sinai Hospital. So I bit the bullet and made an appointment with him for a hearing test, which I flunked. Big time.

Turns out I had 20% of my hearing in my right ear and 70% in my left. It was so uneven, Jerry sent me for an MRI. He thought I might have an acoustic neuroma, a benign tumour that can cause hearing loss.

I didn't.

But as it happens, my maternal grandmother had a similar kind of hearing loss. She died when I was a kid and Jerry never knew her. My hearing loss is hereditary. On both sides of my family. My late father wore little inside-the-ear hearing aids and his "kid" brother, my Uncle Laurie, has had two cochlear implants.

I am very lucky. My wondrous audiologist Leslie Garbett assures me that I will never need a cochlear implant. My hearing will never get that bad. I will always have problems with clarity, but new hearing aid technology will to continue to improve my hearing. Isn't that good news?

With my very lopsided hearing, one of my hearing aids is twice the size of the other. 

All this is really no secret. (Nothing in my life is a secret, it seems. No one would ever describe me as a woman of mystery, except my husband. Maybe. He often finds me difficult to understand.) 

I've written about my hearing loss. My first story – headlined Hear! Hear! – appeared on pages 10-11 of the Summer/Fall 2007 issue of "The Sentinel," the Seneca Retirees Association magazine. It was reprinted from the Mount Sinai Hospital's Spring 2006 issue of "Your Health Report."

Another, Hearing is Believing on pages 14-16 in the Fall 2006 issue of "Network" magazine, published by the Canadian Mental Health Association (Ontario). Quite a different slant. 

What's really important is that every time I walk into a new class (or I make a speech, for that matter), I trumpet my hearing loss. I announce to my new crop of mostly very young Seneca College students that they'll have to speak up for me to hear them clearly. 

Here, we know all about "speaking up," don't we?

"Speaking Up" and "Speaking Out" is what Coming Out Crazy is all about. Advocacy. All of us are or can be advocates for change by using our voices. That's all it takes.

In class, I whip off my brilliantly coloured big, behind-the-ear Widex Inteos to show people what they look like. 

No tiny little nude-coloured hearing aids that fit neatly, almost invisibly inside your ear for me. Nope. They're not strong enough. I need the big guns, so I wear a bright, cherry-red coloured one on my right ear. And a magnificent deep turquoise-blue coloured one on my left.

Red-Right. Blue-Left. The nautical approach to hearing aid wearing. It makes them easier to tell apart, too.

I wear my red and blue hearing aids like fashion accessories. Like you may wear eyeglasses. Today, they've become fashion accessories, whether your eyesight is fine or you need corrective lenses. Either way, eyeglasses are facial fashion and these days, there's nothing particularly bothersome about needing glasses.

Unless you take Dorothy Parker's "News Item" seriously:

"Men seldom make passes
 at girls who wear glasses."

That might be "news" to you and it still may be true today, but I doubt its validity, especially if those glasses are sunglasses! Designer sunglasses – prescription or not – are mega-high fashion.

The bottom line is, whether their lenses are tinted or clear, it's all in the way you look in them and what you see or choose to see.

Furthermore, it's how you wear them. I sport vintage frames for my prescription glasses – for sun and shade, reading and distance – in wild colours or big black dramatic classic shapes and sizes. I always receive compliments. It's fun to turn a liability into an asset. 

That's my philosophy. It's another version of my favourite hobby – turning lemons into lemonade.

I apply this maxim to almost everything. Especially my unique brand of madness and my hearing loss. I'm me. I celebrate my differentness. I enjoy who I am. You can, too.

Depends on how you look at it. Your point of view. Your lens on life.

By the way, I am not deaf. I have a hearing loss. There's a huge difference.

Whenever I talk on the phone, I don't use my hearing aids. They don't work for me. I use my good ear. My iPhone has a fabulous sound system because it's also an iPod. I don't store music, but I love talking on it. It's better than any other phone I use, anywhere.

Hearing loss is like any disorder or difficulty. It's not objective but subjective. Peculiar to each individual. There are many kinds, causes and varieties of hearing losses just like there are many kinds, causes and varieties of mental health issues, disorders, difficulties, challenges. 

Madness. (Such a nice simple compact yet all-encompassing word. That's why I like it so much.) Difference. That's another way of looking at it.

Hearing loss could be viewed as difference. I don't like the word dis-ability. I've never felt dis-abled by either my mania, my hypomania or my hearing loss. I've always felt that "labels disable." So I've learned not to take the labels too seriously. I'm lucky that way, but I've worked hard at it. This fall, I enter my 50th year of psychotherapy. Dr. Bob remarked the other day that he doesn't know of any psychiatrist who's been practicing for 50 years. 

Anyway, hearing loss and psychiatric disorders or madness have several things in common. 

They're relatively invisible. They're most misunderstood and frightening to too many people – ignorance and fear go hand-in-hand with prejudice and discrimination. They're part of the human condition. Hearing loss is inevitable as we age. In our youth-obsessed culture, no wonder people deny needing them.

Consider some stats. 

• 75% of people who could potentially be helped by some form of intervention do not receive it – be it recovery-oriented, peer-support, community mental health and what clinical social worker Ron Unger likes to call the "Life Model" or some form of biomedical approach, according to Queen's University epidemiologist Dr. Heather Stuart, who has consulted with the Mental Health Commission of Canada.

• 90% of people who could potentially be helped by some form of hearing aid either will not wear them, cannot afford them or are in denial about their hearing loss, according to Krista Riko, Director of Audiology, Speech Language Pathology and Hearing Aid Dispensary Services at Mt. Sinai.

I remember telling a friend about being fitted for hearing aids in the fall of 2005. "Oh really?" she said, sounding shocked. "I thought hearing aids were only for old people." 

I quickly discovered that not only is noise-induced hearing loss affecting younger people these days because they crank up the volume of the music they listen to, but hearing loss has long been deleteriously stereotyped. Linked inextricably to an image best summed up in the insensitive, erroneous and archaic phrase "deaf and dumb." 

Not unlike the phrase "mentally ill", an adjectival phrase I never use. I hate it. It colours a whole person and we are all so complex. So multi-faceted. We may have challenges, difficulties – who doesn't? But, we are all human beings first. People first. Individuals first. And the way we use language colours the way we perceive the world. That's why I try to be so careful.

I know so many people my age wearing hearing aids and desperately trying to hide them. Most musicians and DJs have serious hearing loss. Famous people, too. 

I don't hide mine. What's the point?

Hearing aids are just that - aids. If you don't let people know you have a hearing loss, they won't take the time to slow down or speak up. I tell people that. Even though I'm a brilliant lip reader, when someone takes the time to accommodate my hearing loss a little, it beats my saying something inane or insane-sounding because I haven't been able to aurally process it correctly. It's terribly isolating when your hearing loss shuts out conversation.

It's often embarrassing, although nothing embarrasses me anymore. I just make a joke of it. I whip out my trusty little Widex remote control and adjust the volume controls of my hearing aids and the mode in which they process sound.

"I'm a bionic woman," I quip. Dazzling people with my smile. Humour is a great way to diffuse embarrassment. Most people grow curious and start asking questions. Opening their minds as a dialogue begins. Then I have an opportunity to do a little on-the-spot advocacy. One person at a time. That's how social change happens.

That's what we're doing here. You and I. Social change. Together. 

Thanks for listening. Let me know your thoughts and feelings about all this. I'm curious. In the comments, please. That way we can all join the conversation. No one will be left out.

Have a lovely meantime and a sensational weekend.

Speak soon!

On compassion and empathy ...

No excellent soul is exempt from a mixture of madness. No great genius has ever existed without some touch of madness. – Aristotle

You're remarkable, you know that? Really incredible! I love you.

Last Friday, I had a bit of a meltdown here. Writing about Mad Pride Week 2009 plus the madness of my life right now, got the better of me. Over the weekend, I slept. That's the foolproof antidote for my madness. Meanwhile, several comments came to me here from Katharine and from my buddies on Facebook. In myriad ways, you bolstered me. You knew how I was feeling. You were with me. 

This morning, I awoke to discover the most beautiful gift from Carolyn, who often comments here. 

She knew instinctively how overwhelmed I was feeling and shared some charming and very wise advice of her mother's.

"A plate is wide, and you can pile it quite tall, but eventually you have to eat what you put on it," Carolyn wrote. "But when you put something on your plate remember for whom you are eating it. Make sure you save room for dessert – just for you, just for enjoyment. If you don't have room for dessert, you put too much food on your plate to start. Always save room for dessert."

She's right. Lately, I've been skipping desserts – just gorging on the main courses. The serious problems some of you share with me here – by email directly to me – the main courses of your lives become main courses for me. I take them seriously – to heart and to mind. I digest them and dwell on them. They upset me because I can identify with you and because I want to help.

I am, however, no therapist. 

Just a fellow traveller on my recovery road, like you. With my own fine madness. We all have "a fine madness" of our own – all of us! Forget any "psychiatric" diagnostic label. We all struggle with ourselves, with our inner lives and dreams and desires, with who we are and what we want out of life, with who we want to be! With our realities and fantasies.

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the skies... – Jack Kerouac. A gift from my friend Gianna.

It's understandable that with anything that can be classed as "crazy" – emotional trauma, mental illnesses, disorders, disturbances and distresses, with the dualism of mind and body (non-existent, if you ask me – we are whole), with health and well-being, with madness – for no reason, there is a human history of humiliation and disgrace, even guilt. Why? Difference. Perhaps being too different. Being different isn't easy. I think it takes courage and often people think it's madness when it's not. There's safety in numbers. In conformity. Being different is what changes the world. Pioneers are dreamers, lots of people think they're mad, too! But where would we be without the inventors, the explorers, the Mad Men and Women.

Madness goes back to Biblical times. Madness is written on human history from ancient times. Madness and its social background in the Old Testament. 

Today, when everyone wants and needs to fit in, it's natural, understandable, to want to speak in whispers about these mad issues. To talk quietly, not out in the open or in the comments to this blog. To send me personal emails, to spill your stories and demand anonymity. Perhaps, here, at Coming Out Crazy, you've found the first perfectly safe place to let all your frustrations and fears come out. To me. Many of you have expressed that very sentiment many times. You feel safe, here. And you are. Entirely and completely. I am a journalist and I protect my sources. Nothing you write to me privately will ever be repeated.

It's understandable that you feel you want to tell me your whole life history of emotional anguish and mental distress, or the history of your family's struggles and sufferings with mental illnesses or madness. It's natural not to be able to see the light of hope. The act of writing an email to me is therapeutic, healing, especially if you've never shared it with anyone else. It's like writing in a diary, reflecting, journalizing. Getting it all out. Unburdening yourself. It feels good.

With one major difference. I read your stories and often, almost always, implicitly or explicitly, you ask for advice and request a reaction. Some feedback. You share your burdens with me. I begin to shoulder them with you.

It is, however, unrealistic to expect me to be your personal therapist. I can listen to you and read your missives, and at the same time, feel for you. Yet, I cannot offer advice. Good therapists don't give advice. They help you to find your own path, hear your own voice, discover your own answers. That's good therapy. With time and work, you can begin to peel your own onion and explore the layers of your life and psyche. And learn more about who you are and why.

You can learn to accept yourself. To like your uniqueness!

So, I am going to continue to read your emails to me, but at the same time, I'm going to continue to implore you to share your concerns and your life stories and your wisdom and your humanity with our "Coming Out Crazy" community. That's what we're all about. Community. Shared goals. Shared concerns. Shared solutions for the greater good.

You are not alone. We're all human. We're all equal. Not the same, but equal. No one is perfect. That's what the word "human" means.

And there is hope in sharing. In learning about each other. In discovering that what you fear about yourself is not unlike what all us fear or have feared ... and have learned to accept about ourselves. Even like about ourselves.

That's compassion. Better still, empathy. A word I prefer. It means we've walked in each other's shoes or each other's footprints on the sand.

I have lots of quirks. Weird quirks. I get excited and raise my voice. Sounds like I'm yelling, but I'm really just emphasizing. (That's also because I have a serious hearing loss and wear hearing aids. I cannot always gauge my own volume because I can't hear myself.) Ask my darling soul mate husband Marty about my quirks. He lives with me and loves me like I've never been loved before. (And I'll tell you a secret. He has lots of quirks of his own! And I love them as much as I love him. They're all part of his very own uniqueness. They make him the man he is! I'm not interested in perfection. I think it would be a bore.)

Forgive me for becoming unhinged a bit last week. Sometimes the world can be a bit too much for me. I'm terribly sensitive. Always have been. That's my nature. But I can recover by cuddling my little dogs and Marty. And by taking naps in the afternoon.

Let me end with another gift, again from dear Gianna.

You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it." – Robin Williams

More on "Mad Pride" and "Knowing Your Rights Day" ...

Happy Mad Pride Day!

July 14 – A Universal Day of Liberation from old stereotypical thinking about mental health and mental illnesses. To challenge mental health discrimination and prejudice. To educate and enlighten and declare ourselves. To celebrate who we are, educate ourselves and others and remember our history. To break out of denial. To stop being afraid. To end our silence.

To be proud.

Wow, is "Mad Pride" ever a red flag issue, though? At least on this continent.  

Not in England and other countries, where "madness" is an increasingly acceptable word to describe having a diagnosis of a psychiatric or "mental illness" and that's very significant. 

Just click onto the comments to my last post, In the mood for Mad Pride 2009 to see an intriguing discussion that took place over the weekend. Not quite a repeat of what happened in the comments to my post about 2008 Mad Pride Week. That really upset people. Big time. 

So, we're making progress. One step at a time.

This morning, I received a Facebook invitation from Mary Ellen Copeland of the Copeland Center for Wellness and Recovery to join her group called "Mental Health Recovery and WRAP© – Wellness Recovery Action Plan". Copeland is one of the leaders in the U.S. mental health recovery movement and she has a remarkable recovery story, herself. 

I met the Stephen Pocklington at a conference last year and posted all about WRAP. These eight week programs offered in Toronto and all over the U.S. Worth considering if you want to add more tools to help you with your recovery. It works!

There is a profound relationship between Mad Pride and Mental Health Recovery. As I see it, they go hand in hand, even if you choose not to describe yourself as "mad" and feel more comfortable with the term "mental illness." Whatever works for you!

My friend Tufts University psychiatrist Ron Pies, a valued presence here at "Coming Out Crazy",  suggests that being very specific is probably most helpful and healthy. 

Here's what he says: "As for how people diagnosed with so-called mental disorders ought to refer to their conditions, I think its often best to name the specific condition, such as 'I have an anxiety disorder' or 'I have bouts of depressions.'"

Everyone is different and should find their own "comfort zone" – and it's doesn't have to be carved in stone. You may find yourself changing and evolving. "Coming Out Crazy" is a process. It can take years.

These days, I don't run around town saying seriously that "I'm utterly mad." (Although, I do less seriously, in certain situations, among friends and people who know me.) What I usually say is that "I'm in recovery from a unipolar mood disorder. I'm not bipolar. I have never been clinically depressed. I get high. Very high. Not happy. Insane, crazy, nuts, mad!" 

I feel comfortable making a little fun of myself and playing with words and I can pull it off. I've been out all my life. I've had years of practice. It wasn't as easy when I was much younger, as it is now.

It depends on context, of course. Where you are. Who you're with. We're all different. I'll often add that, "This is a very rare, very serious mood disorder. I've been hospitalized about 20 times for mania. I get psychotic. It's no fun. Trust me! But I haven't had a major manic episode since 1988." 

When I talk about myself that way, more often than not, people are comfortable asking me questions. That's when I can self-advocate and educate. It's a win-win-win! That's how you can bring about change, one person at a time. It works. 

That's my brand of Mad Pride. Why don't you try to think about yours. Everyone feels differently. How do you describe yourself and feel about yourself? Why not comment about your brand of Mad Pride and if you don't have one, pretend you do. Put words to your thoughts. Brainstorm. Add your thoughts and comment on them, here.

After all, this is Mad Pride Week. It's the one week in the year when Madness is on a lot of minds. Have some fun with it. Think about some positives. Break out. Be a little optimistic. Cockeyed Optimistic! Think outside your box! Forget about the old resonating ideas for a minute. Just be free. Take a deep breath and for a moment, remember that you are you! There's no one on earth like you. Never has been and never will be. You have special gifts. Try to turn your thinking around. 

Be proud of where you are right now. If you're here, you're in a good, safe place. And we're all here together with you!

One last word – five really important words, actually – before I list highlight tomorrow's Mad Pride Week activities. 

These are the five key concepts for Mental Health Recovery according to Mary Anne Copeland.

• Hope

• Personal Responsibility

• Education

• Self Advocacy

• Support

Meditate about them, too.

Now them, tomorrow, Wednesday July 15th, is "Know Your Rights" Day during Toronto's Mad Pride Week. 

Here's what's on tap. Click here for an overview and details about location.

From 11 a.m. to 12 noon: The Dream Team, a group of "consumer survivors" who advocate for safe, secure and affordable house for people living with mental health and addiction issues will share their stories. Over the last year The Dream Team worked with various groups and communities across Ontario to explore the issue of discriminatory zoning. In this presentation members of the Dream Team will illustrate the concept of discriminatory zoning and the impact on people with mental health and addiction issues. 


At 12 noon to 12:15 p.m. The Parkdale Activity Recreation Centre or PARC Ambassadors Program is a remarkable grassroots community success story. This Parkdale Community consultation program engages, informs and consults with residents and stakeholders in the community in relation to their building development at Edmond Place. Nine Ambassadors, PARC Members, receive remuneration for their peer and member driven work, which incorporates and builds on the principles and values of the recovery model and PARC’s Mission – PARC – A Place Where People Rebuild Their Lives. 

When the Parkdale Activity Recreation Centre acquired Edmond Place from the City of Toronto to develop affordable, social housing for marginalized persons in our community there was extreme opposition to PARC by residents and stakeholders in Parkdale. Since the PARC Ambassadors Program's inception in September 2007 this inner-city community has evolved from a NIMBY (Not In My Back Yard) neighbourhood to a YIMBY (Yes In My Back Yard) neighbourhood. 

The PARC Ambassadors Program is proof positive that through community organizing and public relations, marginalized people have a commitment to their community. They have all the necessary attributes and capabilities to be productive, to contribute to their neighbourhood and to society. They can a do live a healthy, meaningful and fulfilling life. This is a powerful snapshot of recovery.

PARC Ambassadors will discuss their work at this presentation 

12:15 noon to 1 p.m. Lunch – light refreshments generously provided by The Raging Spoon

*RSVP: http://www.madpridetoronto@yahoo.ca

Special lunch time presentations featuring Laughter Yoga with Salimah Kassim-Lakha, and more!

1 p.m. – 2 p.m. – Presentation – Legal Jeopardy by Parkdale Community Legal Services (PCLS)

2 p.m. to  3 p.m. – David Carmichael

QUESTIONS, QUESTIONS, QUESTIONS

When it comes to treating your own mental illnesses, we often assume that doctors and other mental heal professionals always know what’s best. During this presentation, David will raise a few issues about scientific drug research and help you understand, based on his own experience recovering from major depression, how important it is for people living with mental illnesses to take responsibility for their own recovery and rehabilitation by asking their doctors and mental health workers questions, questions and more questions, and by becoming regularly physically active. 

David holds a masters degree in physical education and is the former director of national projects at ParticipACTION. After experiencing his first major depression in 2003 at the age of 45 and a relapse in 2004, he tragically learned the importance of good mental health and does not assume that doctors always know what’s best.

A Q & A session will follow.

3 p.m. – 4 p.m. Street Nurse Beth Pelton 

Beth Pelton is a registered nurse currently working with Street Health Community Nursing. Most of her nursing work has been in the community, and with people living with cancer. Her experiences have included working in medical and geriatric and psychiatric nursing, practising from a Harm Reduction Philosophy.

Mad Pride can help you on your Recovery journey. Go for it!

In the mood for Mad Pride 2009...

Since I started writing "Coming Out Crazy" 15 months ago, I've been on the steepest learning curve of my life. 

At least twice a week I sit down here facing a blank screen on my trusty iMac to muse and investigate issues around mental health and wellness that matter deeply to me and I hope to you, too. Particularly Recovery. Plus any relevant news. These days, there's lots of it.

Your comments are my only barometer, my only way know if I'm plucking at a few of your psychic chords. I live for your reactions, to hear your voices, to learn more about you and this community we've created.

Today, I am launching a short series on Mad Pride, which means many different things to many different people. I believe that Mad Pride is analogous to Recovery because they both share one very crucial quality. Hope.

Perhaps you'll think about what Mad Pride means to you. If you want to know the truth, I'm glad to be mad. I know I'm not normal and I wouldn't want to be. I'd rather be Next to Normal. I think everyone is. No one's normal. 

Being different and proud of it affords me enormous freedom, though I've worked hard to get here. Now, thanks to my psychiatrist Dr. Bob and his brand of talking therapy, I don't ever have to dare to be different. I simply am different. I like being different. That's part of my madness. I'm fine with it.

Some of you don't like the term "mad" or "madness" but perhaps you'll change your mind by next week at this time.

Anyway, here goes. A few annotated highlights for the first day or two of Mad Pride Week in Toronto.

• Mayor David Miller has once again officially proclaimed next week, beginning this Monday, July 13 and ending on Sunday, July 19 to be Mad Pride Week 2009. 

Incidentally, according to a PsychCentral 2007 post on its World of Psychology blog, July is considered Mad Pride Month.

And for all the folks of MindFreedom International, Mad Pride is central to its ethos as a "movement that celebrates the human rights and spectacular culture of people considered very different by our society."

For this "non profit organization that unites 100 sponsors and affiliate grassroots groups with thousands of individual members to win human rights" and alternatives for people labelled with psychiatric diagnoses, Mad Pride is a constant campaign – one of many.

NOTE: This year, due to the City Worker Strike, many of Toronto's week long Mad Pride Week Activities will take place at the May Robinson Auditorium at 20 West Lodge Avenue. That's one block east of Landsdowne and one block north of Queen Street. 

This year, Mad Pride Toronto is up to the minute electronically.You can follow our local Mad Pride Toronto events by watching them on YouTube. Or read the Mad Pride Toronto Blog. Or by following on Facebook.

Mad Pride is a cultural festival of arts, entertainment and heritage activities. Several activities honour and commemorate the contributions of men and women who lived, worked, struggled and died in the former Toronto Hospital for the Insane which was located at 999 Queen Street West.

Here are a few events that intrigue me:

• At 6 p.m. on Monday, July 13, you won't want to miss Geoffrey Reaume's unique historical guided tour of The Patient Built Wall, constructed in 1860 by unpaid patient labourers in what was then known as the Provincial Lunatic Asylum. The Centre for Addiction and Mental Health (CAMH) now stands there. Patients lived and died building that wall and Reaume, author of the landmark history Remembrance of Patients Past – Patient Life at the Toronto Hospital for the Insane, 1870-1940 is well-acquainted with their stories. Soft-spoken, thoughtful and profoundly knowledgeable, Reaume teaches a course in Mad People's History at York University, where he is an Associate Professor. He is also co-founder of the Psychiatric Survivor Archives of Toronto.

• At 8:30 p.m. a Candlelight Memorial will take place at the wall.

• Tuesday, July 14, is Mad Pride Day globally. It's celebrated from the United Kingdom to the United States and Canada and from Australia and New Zealand to South Africa. Celebrations vary, but often Mad Pride is an opportunity to challenge mental health prejudices, discrimination and negative stereotyping by raising awareness through community activities and the arts. Music, theatre, poetry, art and literature can transcend so many barriers, especially the unnecessary ones perpetuated by societal and media ignorance and fear.

• It's no coincidence that July 14th is also Bastille Day, the French National Holiday marking the anniversary of the storming of this Paris prison in 1789 that started the French Revolution. It's a universal symbol of liberation and, according to Mindfreedom, "when the Bastille was stormed, two prisoners with psychiatric labels being detained there for that reason were freed."

(I wonder what those psychiatric labels were, back in 1789, before there were psychiatrists.)

• The Honourable David C. Onley, Lieutenant Governor of Ontario, Ontario Human Rights Chief Commissioner Barbara Hall and MPP Cheri Di Novo will be attending the Opening Ceremonies at 11 a.m. on Tuesday morning to kick off Mad Pride Day.

• Following that, a virtual variety show of entertainment, song, poetry and readings is planned.

• At 1 p.m., York University's Geoffrey Reaume will be back to present an intriguing, no doubt healing and historically provocative program called "Hugging Our History: Why Psychiatric Survivors Need to 'Own' our Mad Past." This is a one-hour presentation I'm going to try to see.

• Wednesday, July 15th is "Know Your Rights Day" and features a presentation by The Dream Team – consumer survivors who advocate for more safe, secure and affordable supportive housing for people living with mental health and addiction issues. 

Next week, I'll continue with my Mad Pride series and some surprising information about how Toronto has led the world in the Mad Pride Movement.

The original organizers of Toronto's first "Mad Pride Day" was almost called "Crazy Day" back in 1993. Instead, they decided to call their event Psychiatric Survivor Day." But I'll leave the rest of that story until next week.

Finally, to get yourself into a "Mad Pride" mood, why not download some utterly amazing interviews on Madness Radio – "Voices and Visions from Outside Mental Health." 

Have a peek.

More of that next week, too. Have a "Truly, Madly, Deeply" sensational weekend.

Hugs,

sln

"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."

A Mad Miscellany

Hello everyone!

I am pleased to announce that I'm feeling much better. In fact, totally better. After five consecutive weeks of weekly therapy sessions with Dr. Bob and some time, reflection and a lot of "processing," I seem to have weathered the bumpy patch in my recovery journey and arrived at a better place – a more peaceful place. More self-accepting.

When I left his office on Monday, I felt light and buoyant. I didn't book another appointment for next week, but rather next month. I didn't make any notes and didn't have any homework. This latest layer of the onion has successfully peeled away. I've shed a few tears and now I won't be seeing him until the end of July!

The passage of time was very healing. And YOU had a lot to do with my progress, too. More than you know. I am very grateful for all your supportive and empathetic messages and comments. Though I was feeling very isolated and fragile, I knew I wasn't alone. This doesn't happen to me very often. Most of the time I have to grapple with the manic end of the spectrum. 

So, now I have a renewed sense of purpose. And a plan. No matter what happens, I am determined to carry on and succeed and I'm looking forward to either exigency – and prepared. 

Today, I'm simply going to share a miscellany of thoughts with you. A little grab-bag of ideas. A gallimaufry, if you will. I hope you don't mind.

1. The television show Mental is off my list. We are no longer recording it and I'm no longer interested in wasting my time watching it. Last week's episode, quite frankly, was so outlandish, I fell asleep. About a young boy who was obsessed with a video game show. Too silly for words. Too bad. It would be lovely to see a network television show, or better still, something on HBO without commercials, that focused intelligently on emotional and mental health difficulties. This one isn't it. 

2. I have been asked to participate or be interviewed for a documentary film called "The Bipolar Project" – that's the working title. I'm hesitating, though. I have done these filmed interviews before and I've found you're at the mercy of the filmmakers and their own visions and biases. They can make you look and sound like anything they want. Editing can distort any message.

Gianna Kali who has an excellent bipolar blog called Beyond Meds had a similar experience recently with 20/20 and she declined as well. For similar reasons.

My husband, a professional screenwriter and producer doesn't agree. That's okay. We can agree to disagree. Quite frankly, I'm not that anxious to "get my message out" when it will be in the hands of a couple of Los Angeles documentary filmmakers with whom I am not familiar and may not be "my message." Especially as I am anti-label, as you all know so well by now.

So, I won't be headed for stardom this time.:-) Also, and this is really the clincher. I am evolving all the time. If I say something on film in July, chances are I might have moved on by the film is completed and released in two years. You never know.

This blog has seen an evolution in my ideas. I think that's healthy. I welcome change and I'm always learning new things and exposing myself to new ideas and perspectives.

3. And speaking of labels, Mad Pride Week in Toronto is from July 13 to July 19, 2009 and it begins at 3 p.m. on Monday, July 13 with a DSM Bonfire:

According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders or DSM "we are mentally ill if we are addicted to coffee – Caffeine-Related Disorders, page 231. Having struggles reading – Reading Disorders, page 51. If we don't think we are crazy then we are suffering from Non-Compliance with Treatment, page 739.

Who else is there?

"Enough with the labels, bring on the marshmallows!" The organizers of this years Mad Pride Week invite you to a symbolic bonfire "where we burn labels and all words that limit who we are as human beings and celebrate our abilities."

Although there will be no real fire, there will be hot chocolate and a sing-along.

Have a look at all the Mad Pride Day Toronto activities planned for that week. Subscribe to the Mad Pride Toronto Blog and stay in touch with people through Facebook by searching for Mad Pride Day Toronto.

I'll keep you posted here, with notices of different activities during that week. Just mark your calendar! Stay tuned. 

Consider using the word "madness" and "mad"... it's quite common in Britain. Lately, I've been listening to Madness Radio – voices and visions from outside mental health. Have a look and a listen. You might find these weekly interviews by Will Hall, who has a diagnosis of schizophrenia and is in recovery, utterly fascinating. Gianna Kali was interviewed in February about her experiences coming off 30 different psychiatric drugs and last week's interview with Jacqui Dillon director of the England's Hearing Voices Network will open your eyes to ears to new perspectives and alternatives to traditional ideas about this challenging issue.

It will open your minds to new realities.

New possibilities.

Take care. And stay cool. Summer has finally arrived. Enjoy!

Good news from "across the pond" ...

Several weeks ago, I started branching out to see how other countries approach mental health. 

Especially efforts to challenge discrimination and prejudice.

Through social entrepreneur Robert Ashton, I was able to contact several leading British charities that for more than 30 years have been working to challenge mental health discrimination, change public perceptions and help people with mental health difficulties in a variety of ways.

It's really important, I think, to know what's going on in the world. We, in fact, have a long way to go. Just read the comments to my post earlier this week on Women and Depression and you'll see what I mean.

England is light-years ahead of us and here's proof.

This morning, I received the June 12th issue of the Time to Change newsletter and an encouraging report.

Time to Change is "England's most ambitious programme to end discrimination faced by people who experience mental health problems" and works with two other major anti-discrimination charities, Rethink and Mind, to inform and educate the public about mental health.

Here are some highlights from this latest report:

• According to figures in a 2009 British Department of Health Report released yesterday, public attitudes appear to have changed towards mental health. "After 15 years where we have seen attitudes deteriorate and deep-seated prejudice, ignorance and fear thrive, there are now signs of improvement." People are more open to change.

• According to the 2009 Department of Health survey:

• 77% agree mental illnesses are illnesses like any other – an improvement of 3% on last year and up 6% since 1994. 

• 73% think that people with mental health problems have the same right to a job as everyone else, up 7% from last year.

• 78% judge the best therapy for people with mental illnesses is to be part of a normal community, up 8% from last year.

• 61% agree that people with mental illnesses are far less of threat than most people think, an improvement of 4% since 2008.

• Other findings were still alarming:

• 11% would not want to live next door to someone with a mental health problem – an increase from 8% in 1994.

• Almost a third of young people between 16 and 34 years of age think there's something about people with mental health issues that makes it "easy to tell them from 'normal' people."

• 52% of young people agree people with mental illnesses are far less of a danger than most people suppose – 17% less than people over 55 years of age.

• 22% feel anyone with a history of mental health difficulties should be excluded from taking public office.

• When the issue is brought closer to home – only 23% feel that women who were once patients in mental hospitals can be trusted a s baby sitters.

• 65% underestimated the actual prevalence of mental illnesses and only 13% were aware that 1 in 4 people will experience a mental health problem in their lifetime. 

I don't believe Health Canada tracks national attitudes on a yearly basis, although the Canadian Alliance on Mental Illness and Mental Health produced a Mental Health Literacy in Canada report published in May 2007. It gives a very detailed overview of attitudes and conceptions about mental illnesses and discrimination and perceptions of dangerousness. How accurate is it now? Who knows? This is just part one. I couldn't find part two. 

There are also dozens of smaller reports from other groups but nothing current from a federal government health agency or even from the Canadian Mental Health Association that outlines how the general population views people, like us, with psychiatric or mental health issues. We have no coalitions of major charities devoted to challenging mental health discrimination or working together to raise awareness. 

Certainly, from what I've read, the Canadian and American media need desperately to be educated and are responsible in a major way for the negative framing of mental illnesses in our culture. They are part of the problem, according to an article on the Canadian Mental Health Association website, titled The Role of the Media in Forming Attitudes Towards Mental Illness. The problem with this story, originally published in Moods magazine, is that it perpetuates negative stereotypes and there is no current research cited. 

On the other hand, Sue Baker, Time to Change director views the British survey positively: "Attitudes towards mental health issues are finally beginning to move in the right direction," she said. "Deep-seated prejudices are starting to shift and it's a further sign that we are heading toward a tipping point in England and there is a real appetite for change."

Other similar sentiments were expressed by the heads of Rethink and Mind. 

So, now is the time for us to demand change. Or at least some accurate and up-to-the-minute information about our national attitudes towards mental health. Here in Canada. How can we change them unless we know where we stand?

It's up to all of us to take action and demand this information. Approach your local Canadian Mental Health Association branch or better still, email the national CMHA and start asking questions. Is there any national survey to gauge attitudes here? If not, there should be!

The national CMHA office will start to listen if you start to make noise. CMHA Ontario publishes a quarterly magazine called Network and a weekly update called Mental Health Notes can be sent to your email address.

These resources are just a click away.

Raise your voices and let them be heard.

In the meantime, have a great weekend.