Mental Health and Disability Part Two: Where Society Needs to Catch Up

Late last year, I brought up an issue that was not discussed very much in the disability community, disability and mental health. As I thought about this blog, I remembered a recent email that I got, and it inspired me to revisit the issue. In the email was a story about how colleges are flunking mental health treatment.

            The article described a young boy, Dan, who had mental health issues and made a wrong choice one night in an attempt to overdose. To summarize, he did not overdose. He was having trouble dealing with a new medication, and once his medicine was adjusted, he was fine. However, his college did not treat him appropriately.

            His health center referred him to a hospital, which they should have done, but the administration's actions were incorrect.  Instead of recognizing a student in trouble, they treated Dan as if he was a criminal.

            My previous blog on mental health dealt with how society doesn't view depression correctly. This latest article in News Week confirms what I had written. Depression is still such a stigma that it is almost a dirty word even in higher education. What does this have to do with disability? It has everything to do with it. Depression and disability in general in our society is seen as something dirty. When it is said that someone is depressed or disabled, they are seen as unclean or unworthy. It is a shame that places of higher education are perpetuating this stereotype. I can speak from personal experience when I say that even higher education places view depression as a dirty word. Not only did they kick Dan out of his school involuntarily, but also they did a similar thing to me.

            It is said that the American land of immigrants is so afraid of difference. We will not be able to progress as a society if we do not understand that differences are fundamental to the growth, and not everyone is given the same skillset. Some of us must deal with obstacles that sometimes overwhelm us. We should not criminalize those who have depression or other mental health afflictions; instead, we should strive to ease their pain.

This will not happen if we do not admit that depression is not necessarily a bad thing. Depression, instead in most cases, is our body's' way of telling us to reexamine what is going on around us. I know most of society doesn't view depression the way I do, but regardless of whether you agree with me or not, you have to agree that society needs to be more accepting of mental health issues. If places of higher education are so educated, why can't they lead mental illness acceptance? The answer is simple.

Places of higher education are scared of mental illness for the same reason society is scared of mental illness. They are afraid that if we embrace mental illness for what it is, it is an admission that the human consciousness is not as self-reliant as society thinks it is. We need to accept that it is a part of the human condition to ask for help. It is a part of our condition to be reliant on others. Keeping up with the Jones's individualist type mentality that we currently live in, it is taboo to admit that you go against the grain and do not subscribe to the emotionalist culture we live in.

Colleges could be on the front lines of helping those who are depressed, but instead, they sit at the back of the class. It is time for a societal-wide change in disability and depression, and change can happen if it starts now. 

Come on America: Those In Glass Houses Should Not Throw Stones

So I didn't write a lot in 2014 yet, but I promise that will change. This posting will be my 40^th blog. It is amazing what this blog has grown into a little over nine months.

            Nine months ago, I was angry and bitter and didn't know how to deal with it. They say life has a funny way of working out. I can't say that I would say that in nine months, I found my voice or at least the beginnings of it. As this blog says, I have learned a few things over the past little bit. I've written about comedy, I've written about political issues, and I've written about disability stereotypes; however, this blog will be a little different.

            Maybe it's because of how I was raised, but I have developed a spirit of a fighter that is both a good thing and a bad thing. As I sit down to write this post, in fact, I still remember the latest fight I had with my parents about being self-reliant. Without boring you with the gritty details, let's say we disagreed on how self-sufficient I should be at this point in my life.  My fight with my parents had nothing to do with a disability, at least on the surface; however, it got me thinking about a disability community problem.

            I've read a lot lately since graduating from my master's program in early December of 2013. I don't know whether it was intentional or not, but many titles have been related to making one's destiny. The last book I finished, I am Malala, was a highly publicized book about a girl shot by the Taliban in Pakistan to speak up for girls' educational rights. That book not only blended history and culture, but it struck me on a personal level. The circumstances Malala had to overcome put her in extreme danger every day. Regardless of that danger, she still stood up for what she wanted.  She knew no one else was going to give it to her unless she proves herself.

Similarly, A Bold Piece of Humanity, by Bill O'Reilly, discussed the controversial commentator's belief system and how he had come to reach those beliefs. While some of Mr. O’Reilly's political views may not sit well with some, the striking thing about this book was that like Malala; he did not rely on anyone to hand him success. No, he just took it.

            What does this all have to do with disability, one might ask? Well, it is simple. I've noticed lately, and I include myself in this generalization as well, that most people with disabilities let external forces control their lives. Often they feel trapped by circumstance, so we do not complain when our aide care is sub-par or something doesn't get done in a typical fashion because we are disabled. No, we accept it as our reality. Well, the above two books, along with something my father has been trying to tell me for forever, have finally sunk in.  Hard work isn't easy. I will use a parable from a well-known book for those of you who need it put simpler. Whether or not you believe it that Jesus of Nazareth is God as I do, the Bible does have one exciting thing that everyone can live by. Give a man a fish, feed him for a day, teach a man to fish, you feed him for a lifetime. This is not a wealth criticism or even a social criticism; instead, in this case, it is a disability criticism.

            I am criticizing those like myself in the disability community who often let their circumstances define their lives.  Yes, our lives may be challenging, but our obstacles are no different than anyone else's. We are no other than a single mom of four that I know who busts her ass every day and sometimes goes without to help me and make her kid's lives better. We are also no different from a 49-year-old man who goes to work every day and doesn't smoke a day in his life but ends up getting cancer at 50. He still must get up, go to chemo, and move on with his life. We are no different from my Dad, who was perfectly healthy a year ago and is now fighting every day to keep his spirits up and keep moving towards his retirement dream. I know that was long-winded, but I do have a point.

            Disabled people think that because we rely on other people so much, whether we have a physical or mental disability, we are not in control of our lives. I'm here to tell you that our lives are what we make them, no one else.

If we do not have much physical control, then we can demand high expectations of those who do have biological control over our lives. Disability is not a limit, just a challenge. Quit letting it limit you and start challenging it. Your experiences will be better in the short term, and the world will be better in the long run. 

Mental Health and Disability

The last blog I wrote was entitled “The Acceptance Problem.” It talked about an issue that is not often discussed within the disabled community, that of disability identity versus complete identity. Now it is only appropriate to talk about another issue that is not talked about which is disability and depression.
       There are a variety of disabilities. There are the obvious types, which can be seen, in physical disabilities. There are also hidden disabilities that impact a person’s learning style such as Asperger’s, Dyslexia or Dysgraphia, just to name a few. However, one type of disability that is not often considered a “disability” is that of mental illness. Whether it is Bipolar Disorder, Schizophrenia, or Depression these can be very debilitating, when one combines these disorders with a physical disability, the discussion virtually stops.       

My battle with depression has led me to come to several conclusions about disability and depression in general, along with the treatment of those who happen to have both. As I have written many times, having a disability comes with many challenges, which include: social, physical, and emotional challenges. The profession of psychiatry and psychology is designed to deal with individuals that have depression, but not often do these practitioners encounter individuals with disabilities. This statement may be incorrect in factual nature but it is not erroneous when it comes to experience. I have battled depression for a long time.

In my late teens, I began to realize that I was different. One may ask, how could you not realize that you were physically different before that? My answer is that for the majority of my life I was treated as if I lived in two worlds. My parents, up to that point, had always treated me as if I wasn’t disabled. I don’t know if there was the intent here or not, but they never let me consider my disability as an obstacle, so I never did. They did their best to allow me to participate in every opportunity that everyone else did. The way they treated me, it never crossed my mind that I was different. However, that all changed in high school.

Adolescence is hard for everyone. Kids in middle school are trying to find out who they are, but they don’t even know that that’s what they’re trying to do. In high school and even at the end of middle school, people are trying to find their niche. I don’t know why, but cliques start to develop. Suddenly, the littlest difference is made obvious, and it is an individual’s goal to hide their difference. However, when one has such physical differences from their peers, it’s kind of hard to hide. I’m not saying that children are malicious on purpose; just that society has taught us to fear difference.

As I began to become aware of my difference for the first time, it was kind of a slap in the face. I took out my anger on my Mom, Dad, and younger sister. The relationship I had with them throughout those years was not the prettiest. And for the constant fights I caused, I apologize. When I first began to deal with depression, I did not handle it properly. I did not seek out professional help. I don’t know whether its because I had been taught by society to fear the stigma that comes with dealing with emotional issues, or what it was, I just know I didn’t handle it properly.

In fact, it was not until an extremely dark incident in my late twenties, that I began to seek help. Many who read this might be uncomfortable with what I’m about to say, but I will honestly say that I had reached the end of my rope. Through a series of incidents, I realized that something needed to be done about the way I approached life and my disability overall. I thought that accepting the problem for what it was and dealing with it would be the biggest hurdle that I had to overcome, but I was wrong.

As I began dealing with the mental health profession, I realized that there was a disconnect between mental health professionals and the disabled community. Most of the mental health professionals that I dealt with seem to think that once I accepted my disability that I would not be depressed anymore. For their part, they were partly right, accepting my disability was part of my problem but not the whole problem.

Acceptance is only the first step. And that is only part of the depression at least for me when it comes to disability. For years I’ve complained that there are two types of disabled people, people that are okay with it and people that are not. However, I’ve recently learned that this is not necessarily the case. There is a third type of disabled person. One who is okay with their disability from a personal standpoint, but who is not okay with society’s treatment of persons with disabilities. Honestly, I can say that I fall into this third category.

It is hard to take the mental health profession and mental health professionals seriously when they do not often believe that there is room for this third type of person with a disability. Luckily, currently, I have the pleasure of working with Dr. Michael Mercatoris who has given me permission to use his name. Mr. Mercatoris is the first one of his kind that I have worked with, who seems to understand that depression and disability is a two-pronged problem.

First an individual, in this case, me, has to accept themselves for who they are and not what society thinks they should be. Secondly, an individual has to realize that there will be societal obstacles associated with their physical disability that may cause depression. The depression will not go away simply because society is not ready for such a radical change and full acceptance of disability as a norm. Rather anyone dealing with depression or a mental illness along with a physical disability must be willing to go against the grain. They must be willing to stand up for who they are and what they are and must be willing to sacrifice in order for society to slowly change, that being said, there are other things that need to happen as well.

If one accepts the premise that depression is going to be associated with disability from day to day, there are certain things that must occur. The mental health community in general needs to be better equipped to deal with i.e. help those with physical disabilities along with their mental health issues. One might ask: how can they do this? I don’t have all the answers but one answer might lie in the way they treat individuals in inpatient and outpatient programs. For example, if one is so desperate that they need to go into an inpatient facility and they have a physical disability, it might be appropriate for all involved with the individual to make sure that that the facility has adequate personal care available while participating in the inpatient the program so that they are not worried about their physical care needs to be met along with their mental health needs. As far as my own personal experience, I can recommend that providers may want to be more open to the idea that individuals with disabilities are intelligent beings and perhaps their pain or emotional issues go deeper than not accepting themselves for who they are, but perhaps they are too reflective for their own good and realize that society is in a sad state of affairs when it comes to disability. Although it is the 21^st century, in some aspects of disability, society is still in the middle ages. This may be a hard pill to swallow for many who are disabled, including myself. However regardless of how hard it is to swallow, the disabled community should have outlets in the mental health community who understand us as people and not just a disorder. Thankfully, I have found two, Dr. Michael Mercatoris and my aunt Eileen. For that I am very thankful.