What would it be like to be a physician with a major mental illness? You would have all the challenges of medical practice complicated by moods that swung from high to low and back again. What if you were also struggling to be a husband and a father?
Here’s what Alicia Sparks, author of the Psych Central blog “Celebrity Psychings,” had to say about the film Loving Lampposts:
Todd Drezner, a Columbia University Film MFA graduate, is currently making Loving Lampposts, a film FilmStew.com says will “include a close-up look at ‘neurodiversity,’ a movement which posits that curing autism is something that is neither possible nor desirable.” As the father of a son diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder, Drezner takes special interest in the subject and the film will reportedly feature celebrity advocates like Jenny McCarthy. (For those who’re interested, Loving Lampposts is Drezner’s directorial debut, but he also worked as an editor on I Paint Pictures, a 2007 documentary about a New York street artist with schizophrenia.)
Lewis Schofield has a new video up at YouTube. And it’s about his life with Myasthenia Gravis.
Here’s what Connie Foggles, author of the health blog My Chronic Life, had to say about it:
I came across this video from my Google Alert set to Myasthenia Gravis. I am amazed at the way that this young man who is only 13 is able to describe what MG is all about. Lewis Schofield, who also has Asperger Syndrome, a form of Autism, was diagnosed with MG in April of 2008. He was most likely 12. With his ability to make this video to educate people about this disease and to inspire people at the same time, I bet that there are offers for marketing jobs coming his way. I admire him. Plus he makes me really think that I need to be grateful for what I have. How can I complain after seeing what he is going through?
Irked Magazine proudly presents Tell Me What Time It Is: My Life With Myasthenia Gravis—a very brave and very powerful short-movie by the multi multi multi-talented Lewis Schofield. Our favourite part is found at 2:42 in the video and runs until 2:56. Talk about marketing and promotion!!
[*UPDATED: Due to re-editing, the favourite part that used to be found at 2:42 in the video and ran until 2:56 now starts at 2:31 and runs until 2:45. ]
Words and photographs by Stuart Baker-Brown
An Irked exclusive!
Stuart Baker-Brown, a tenacious mental health activist and long-time Irked contributor, was diagnosed with schizophrenia in 1996. For many years he has courageously promoted his own positive recovery to help inspire and offer hope to all those who share his diagnosis. On October 12, 2008, Stuart flew from his home in the UK to Kathmandu, Nepal and attempted to reach the summit of Mera Peak. This is his story, in his own words and with his own photos…
October 13th 2008.
It is 1:32pm UK time. I am sitting here at Doha airport in Qatar. We had to return just under an hour into the flight to Kathmandu. The plane had technical difficulties and there was a lot of cabin pressure and the air conditioning stopped working. So, it was announced by the captain that for passenger safety the plane had to return back to Doha.
I was supposed to be arriving in Kathmandu at approx 8am Nepal time, and at this moment I have no idea when we will be boarding a new flight.
The adventure starts! Click to continue »
Surrounded By Time
By Brian Segal
I have had problems with insomnia. Perhaps that is not exactly the truth. I used the past tense in the first sentence. My difficulties concerning sleep deprivation were only artificially overcome with a “cocktail” of sleep aids (medications). My sleep may not be “naturally” induced but it sure beats Click to continue »
Dia Calhoun: On Writing The Phoenix Dance
“I wanted to show her struggles with the illness: the difficulty getting properly diagnosed; the difficulty getting the proper medicine; and the difficulty of staying on the medicine due to side effects—all things that teens with bipolar disorder experience today.”
Bipolar Parenting
by Mara McWilliams
As a mother who is also bipolar, I have searched the Internet for websites geared toward helping parents diagnosed with bipolar disorder; I have yet to find one. I believe it would make a big difference if one existed. We all have found, over the years, that sharing our experiences with those who are or have experienced the same thing is healing and therapeutic for all parties involved. The first Twelve Step program was founded on that basic principle. In this situation, it would be one bipolar parent helping another, and so on.
I know that as a person raised in a co-dependent, oppressive environment, I don’t want to raise my child in a similar atmosphere. It is important that I raise an independent, responsible, brave young woman who is aware of her boundaries. I am aware that my daughter might be prone to assume the role of caretaker or codependent. It is my responsibility, regardless of my diagnosis, to make sure that doesn’t happen. My child is not the parent; I am.
According to current statistics, my daughter has between a 15-30% chance of inheriting bipolar disorder. Unfortunately, I cannot protect her from developing this illness, but I can properly prepare her to deal with life and the curve balls it will throw at her. I can teach her to live honestly, to live with compassion in her heart, and to act in kind to all inhabitants on this planet. I can teach her to claim responsibility for her actions and accept the consequences of her decisions gracefully. I can teach her that love comes in all different shapes and sizes and isn’t limited to traditional concepts of marriage, tradition and commitment.
I’m not naïve. I know my illness has an effect on my child. What kind of effect, I’m not sure; time will tell. I am honest with my daughter. We have discussed my illness many times: how it is called a brain disorder because there is a chemical imbalance in the brain. She knows that my illness is called Bipolar Disorder and that I take medication to treat it. She has experienced my moods changing from happy to sad within hours of each other, and she knows that my moods are not a result of something she did. She knows this because we have an open line of communication that is based on honesty and trust.
My child knows it is not her responsibility to change my feelings or make me feel better. I have explained to her that my feelings and moods are my responsibility. Occasionally, when I am feeling blue, she will come up to me, give me a hug and say, “It’s going to be ok Mommy, I love you.” And then she will run off and play with her friends, just like any other 8 year old kid. Because of my illness, my child has learned how to be empathetic without becoming codependent. In today’s world, that is a very valuable lesson.
We all have to play the hand we’ve been dealt. I was dealt bipolar disorder. My child was dealt a bipolar parent. It’s the coping tools we develop to deal with our cards that are invaluable.
We invite our daughter to share with us not only her experiences during the day, but her feelings about her day. She is encouraged to express her feelings, including anger. We are teaching her to express her angry feelings in a positive way. Children want to be loved and it is the parent’s job to love, nurture, and guide them. I remind myself that my child’s life is her own and not my experience.
I believe that because of my bipolar disorder and my recovery process, my child will grow up in a house that is focused on mental wellness.
© 2006
If art is communication, Mara McWilliams is screaming. A California-raised, self-taught “outsider artist,” Mara was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder at 19 years of age. For most of her life she fought the demons associated with mental illness, until she decided to use the illness to her benefit.
The birth of Mara’s art came from despair and led her into recovery. For her, art and recovery are inseparable. Mara started painting daily and has found art to be the truest form of self-expression. She chooses to not be restrained by the technical boundaries associated with the various genres.
As an artist, it is Mara’s goal to relay the intense feelings associated with mental illness to her audience without stereotypical pretenses or filters. Painting allows that interaction to take place. The paint acts as emotion while the canvas is the treasure chest in which all hopes, fears and vulnerabilities are stored and shared with viewers.
She lends these same gifts to her poetry. Her first book, “Outta My Head and In Your Face,” opened to critical acclaim and adorns the libraries of some of the greatest thinkers of our generation. Through her art and poetry, Mara McWilliams hopes to be a hopeful blaring voice for those who are afraid that life ends after diagnosis.
See more of Mara’s work at www.recoverythroughart.com.
