Aboard a zodiac on a scuba excursion in Kauai today we encountered a pod of small dolphins. It was incredible to watch them racing about, popping in and out of the water all around our boat. The guide told us that dolphins live for pleasure, spending time with each other, playing dolphin games, and enjoying what the ocean gives them. He said that these dolphins are so social that in captivity they just let themselves sink to the botton of the tank and drown, basically committing suicide.
And that caused me to think about those suffering from mental illness. My son has suffered from mental illness for many years now. If he was a dolphin, he would have long ago sank to the bottom of his tank.
There is a huge focus to reduce the stigma attached to mental illness. There are many reasons for the stigma – but the biggest reason is there is no cure, only endless suffering. Mental illness is absolutely horrible for those who suffer with it. It is also horrible for those who love someone who is suffering with it. And it is often frightening to those who watch from the sidelines, disconnected from any meaningful contact with it.
I’m not even going to put a name to my son’s condition. Through the years he has experienced sadness and sadness and more sadness. So much sadness, feelings of inadequacy and failure that he eventually went totally off the rails and created his own reality. He became the hero saving the world, and then burned down a building to get rid of the evil spirits attacking him. And because he was so wild and scarry he was treated with brutality by the police and health care workers as they tried to stop him before he reached the bridge, or after he lit the fire. I’m not blaming them. They had to do what they had to do.
Once my son sported a black eye for six months from being hit during an arrest, he has been tasered and in the hospital he was drugged so heavily that for days that he was not able to get out a coherent sentence.
He has been on community treatement orders for several years now. But let me say, there is no “community” in it. There are just regular visits to the doctor during which the types and amounts of drugs are adjusted and given by injection without his consultation. Other than contact with the family, he has no friends and no other people to associate with. It breaks my heart.
The drugs themselves leave him feeling numb and emotionless. He is unable to work and not able to look after his own affair. Without the support of a loving family he would most certainly have been on the street by now. With no positive lasting change, I fear that it may yet come to that. Each episode brings deeper trauma, and no solutions.
We do need to get rid of the stigma regarding mental health, but just running a public relations campaign on it won’t work. We need real solutions and better care to help people get in control of their lives…. not just more drugs.