This is the first in a series titled “This Much I’ve Learned”, in which different people share how they approach their lives, the coping strategies that work for them, and the people, places or things that help with managing or maintaining emotional and psychological equilibrium. Inspired by The Guardian’s (UK) column “This Much I Know”, in which well-known figures share their life lessons, this series aims to offer a variety of very personal ways into the subjects of well-being and mental health.
The series also makes a trial-and-error nod to that cliché, ‘It’s a process’, but lets go with that here; we’re all still learning, we're all still getting through, we’re all at different stages. Ask the question in a year, and our thinking may be different, or maybe it won’t be, but that will tell us something too. The shape of our conversation around mental health is evolving, depending on who it is with and when it takes place, as knowledge, experience, attitudes and learning shift.
This week I spoke to Alaric Moore, a young writer and social entrepreneur newly based in San Francisco. She is one of the founders of WikiSeat, a maker education initiative based in the city, she contributes to Shareable, writes her own blog, and has been diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder bipolar type II. Here I defer to Alaric; in her own experience and in her own words:
Fuck You Brain/ Brian. Artwork by Alaric Moore
I can call myself ‘nutty’, ‘crazy’, ‘special’, or ‘touched’, though it depends on your intention whether you can use these words, too. Generally I prefer the term ‘mental misconduct’. It insinuates that my mind operates separately from the “norms” that society expects of a mind.
‘Mad’ has connotations of Alice in Wonderland, also anger. ‘Crazy’ is used often enough; its like women reclaiming the word ‘slut’. I can use it, and take it back, like the Pink Floyd song, ‘You Crazy Diamond’.
‘Mental illness’ – urgh. ‘Sick’ is ok as it feels temporary. I get sick, right. ‘Ill’ – no, too dysfunctional, has too much longevity. ‘Mental health’ is ok; I want to be healthy but not the same kind of healthy – maybe ‘mental normative’.
I feel that I need
to have enough knowledge to know what to do: If I get sick again, I want to be
taken to St Francis. I’ve heard that the atmosphere there is non-violent, with
people who are mildly afflicted. UCSF
Inpatient and Outpatient have a reputation for being accepting and open
particularly around LGBT. In Oklahoma where I’m from, I had a good experience
at the Norman Regional Facility–they let you maintain essential freedoms, like
doing your own laundry, which makes you feel more normal, and gives you a sense
of daily routine. These little things, that we often take for granted, are
incredibly important to helping maintain mental stability.
Dr Hersevoort is a great psychiatrist. I found him on yelp; he gives the full-hour and combines an approach of medications and therapy. I believe his background is in neurosurgery / psychopharmacology. I take Abilify and Lamictal, along with the occasional anti-anxiety med (although the lamictal affects my short-term memory, I’m willing to take it because it helps me greatly).
Artwork by Alaric Moore
I haven’t yet found a therapist that I like; I’ve looked on yelp for recommendations, visited about 12 for 2-3 times each. CBT is thought to have positive affects on bipolar. I like the more theoretical approach.
I need to remember where to go to get the best help; my mantra is ‘fight to get in’. I’ve discussed this with my roommates and boyfriend, as well my close friends, preparing them for the unfortunate.
It is up to me to help the people around me prepare for a break, to recognize the behaviours that I can exhibit, to take me in to the ER, to hold my hand, and to understand the processes. Then once I’m through the door it’s on me. But I have to make them aware, and I need to know myself, the steps to take to be safe and the best place where I can manage medications, talk about the issues that I’m having and not be judged.
Because I’m likeable, because people like me enough, I’ve found that I’m not judged in the same way as other people who might be mentally misconducting.
I wanted to come out about it; I had an environment that was supportive growing up. It is very important to be vocal about mental health. The atmosphere of millenials is more accepting.
I’ve found reaching out to other folks on Reddit and Tumblr helpful, as well as the depression forums in the geek community (depression is common amongst these groups it seems). Also meet-ups. Sometimes I attend the Depression and Bipolar Alliance.
Artwork by Alaric Moore
I like to weld for WikiSeat at CellSpace (Inner Mission); it’s like painting with lightning. I like the act of making, of creating something; it allows me to feel accomplished. I also enjoy burlesque, the dance, choreography, and costumes; it feels like a meditation. When I’m feeling healthy, but have a natural low, I take myself on a bike ride.
Hack-a-thons and the hacker community have been greatly helpful in enabling me to create a community and support network. Many of these people are attuned to the sort of non-normative mind, and are open to supporting differences. As well, there are wonderful, openly accessible events where one is allowed to express oneself in creative ways and to feel agency in the world. Like the Grey Area Foundation for the Arts recent art-hack in December and other similar events.
WikiSeat (http://www.wikiseat.org/about/) gives me some purpose, having things like this to focus on can be helpful. Some cause that is good, no matter how trivially good they may seem, can mean the difference between depression and contentment.