This is Why I Walk

For the past 2 years I’ve shared Facebook notes about why the NAMI Walk is so important to me. Looking back at them now, it’s a chronicle of how much my friend has been through in that time. Two years ago, she was in the same place that she’d been in for much of the time I’ve known her – chronically suicidal, wanting desperately to die but knowing that those feelings and the voices telling her to do it were a symptom of her mental illness. My note that year was about the 3 AM phone calls, and the incredibly insensitive (and dangerous) responses she got when she tried to reach out for help. By this time last year, she was in a very different place – lost in a period of psychosis, unable to have any kind of conversation that made sense – the result of professionals’ failure to take her (or me) seriously as the voices took over and she started to lose control. My note last year was about my realization of just how strong the stigma and discrimination against mental illness really is – that somebody fighting for her life and sanity could be so easily dismissed as “just trying to get attention.”

Soon after I wrote that note, she stopped talking completely for several months. I still called her every few days, carrying on a one-sided conversation to the sound of her breathing, or sometimes crying. Those conversations made me cry too – wondering what she was experiencing, and how isolating it would be to not be able to tell anyone. When she eventually did start talking again, her version of reality was very different from mine – she would have conversations that sounded totally rational, but none of what she was talking about was accurate. Any attempt to question this usually resulted in her shouting at and hanging up on me. This lasted for a very long time…long enough that I started to wonder whether the friend I knew was “gone” for good. A few months ago, I finally started to see glimpses of the “old” her – not always, but more consistently as time went on. The downside was that she was relatively happy in her imagined reality, but extremely depressed during the times she was lucid and realized what was happening. That’s where we still are – and hopefully the progress continues.

So what, then, is the theme of this year’s note? For me I guess, it’s the realization of how strong, powerful, and all-encompassing mental illness can be. It’s also the understanding of how important support and human connection are throughout that process. I’m not going to romanticize it, maintaining this friendship has been incredibly challenging and frustrating for me at times – trying to not take things personally, to not get defensive, to stay calm and rational in conversations that are anything but. Trying to figure out how to respond to her has been a huge learning curve, and a lot of trial and error. But then I think – that could just as easily be me in her shoes. What would it be like to fight constantly to maintain some control of your thoughts and your life, and instead of having people recognize that incredible effort, having them walk away instead (I mean, who needs that “drama” in their life, right)? That’s her reality. Sometimes now, when I can tell she’s struggling, I tell her how proud I am of how far she’s come, how hard she’s fought to get back to where she is now…it usually makes her cry, which obviously isn’t my intention, because nobody recognizes that fact.

She is patronized, ignored, ridiculed even…but rarely appreciated or respected. Why is it that we can laud cancer survivors for how hard they’ve fought, and all they’ve overcome, but we don’t think or talk about mental illness that way? There was so much conversation about mental illness recently following Robin Williams’ death, but it’s already fading away…and that can’t happen. He may have been the public face of it, but statistics say that 1 in 4 adults in the US will deal with a mental illness at some point in their life. As I’ve talked about my friend’s experiences (with her blessing), I’ve seen the “No kidding, me too” phenomenon in full force. People have shared their own stories with me, about themselves, their family, their friends…stories I never would have known without having that conversation. Mental illness is a part of all of our lives in one way or another, and it shouldn’t have to be a secret. NAMI works to fight the stigma of mental illness, and to raise awareness of the need for improvements in the mental health system. I walk because I hope to support a future in which people like my friend will have an easier path to walk.