Mental illness sucks. Majorly.

: 'Dante's Prayer' by Loreena McKennitt
: Serious and reflective

Breathe life into this feeble heart
Lift this mortal veil of fear
Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears
We'll rise above these earthly cares
--Loreena McKennitt, 'Dante's Prayer'

I have been blessed, in a way, to have dealt with depression and anxiety issues. I say that because it has helped me understand other people so much more. I can, to some degree, understand the case of psychosis in Andrea Yates' case (the woman from Texas who drowned her children). I've never been psychotic (in the clinical sense, anyway) but I've dissociated to such a degree that I was no longer grounded in reality and irrational things really did seem to make sense. I can understand the need to escape this life, because I have been suicidal. I understand the need to shut down, because I've done that too. But for now at least, I seem to have beaten back the majority of my daemons and am enjoying my life. So I have a little distance. But I can never forget that dark place. And I wish there were an easy way to save those drowing under the weight of life.

Nearly everyone I know has at some point in their lives dealt with some aspect of mental illness, whether panic attacks, obsessive-compulsive disorder, addiction, personality disorders, eating disorders, or depression. In some cases it really seems to be a matter of physical brain chemistry (especially depression and anxiety disorders). In others, dysfunctional family dynamics or a lack of useful coping mechanisms may have been contributors. Whereas it was once taboo to speak of it, now it's actually a sort of touch point between people...admitting you have a problem tends to lead them to disclose their own experiences. I'm not really sure there's anyone out there not touched by mental illness in some way, either personally or in terms of a loved one. I sometimes think it's harder for those who love us to deal with our illness than we ourselves, because they can't make it better--not really. That's a step that needs to be taken by the individual. They can help, they can be supportive, but in the end we are the ones who have to want to get better, to get help, to come back from the brink. And mental illness, particularly depression, can take you to a point where there seems to be no point in doing that. And for those who have not had problems themselves, it's that much harder to really, truly understand, no matter how hard they try. At the same time, mental illness has a tendency to be contagious--depression, especially. Sometimes it seems like the other person is being pulled in by a strong undertow into the world of darkness.

So many people are afraid to admit they have issues that require professional help and possibly medication. Medication doesn't make you less of a person. It simply helps right an imbalance in the system that can stabilise the mind to a point where counselling and other treatment can help. But finding the right combination is extremely tricky. Generally speaking, if a person feels zombified, they haven't received the best mix yet. Sometimes it's a matter of trying different meds in succession, and that takes time, since some take weeks to build up in efficacy.

Even harder, sometimes, is jumping through the hoops of bureaucracy to get help. A person dealing with mental illness is really not in the best position to keep appointments, fill out paperwork, apply for social security or health service benefits, deal with insurance, medicare, or pharmaceutical drug programmes. Without an advocate who can sit down and go through the paperwork or go to appointments and describe what the person's behaviour actually is--rather than his or her perceived behaviour, it's hard for providers to realise the gravity of the situation. A person could seem to have a depressed affect but generally be okay, when he or she is in fact ruminating on suicide. That kind of information doesn't get easily volunteered, and in an overborne system, providers often don't have time to figure out the whole picture. I don't know how come more people don't slip through the cracks. Unfortunately, many people who are mentally ill are ostracised or otherwise isolated from those who could advocate for them.

I'm not a medical person, but I can say I've experienced mental illness from several perspectives. If you're dealling with mental illness, know that it can, slowly, get better. Find an advocate, whether a friend, a spouse, a social worker, etc., who can help you with the overwhelming battery of steps it may take to get better. Find people on the Internet to connect to, or blog...anything that will help you vent or find information of feel like you're not alone in this.

If you have a loved one dealing with mental illness, offer to be an advocate--and follow through. Be up front with the person. Don't hide behind polite, normal behaviour. Sometimes it takes a trusted person to tell us we're acting crazy for us to believe it. Don't be afraid to ask how they're doing...and be ready to listen. Never trivialise their problem, but try not to enable helplessness. Do a little research on their illness so you know what to expect. Know that small things can seem huge when you're living inside your head...an off-hand comment can be misconstrued easily, so think before you say it. If they're depressed, don't just try to cheer them up and expect it to get all better. True depression isn't just a slump. Help them get professional help, but let them make the decision to seek it. Don't be afraid to call the authorities or medical help if they become a danger to themselves or others. Know that sometimes, despite your best efforts, it doesn't work. I know of one woman who, as a nurse, tried to get her father into a psych ward when she realised he was having psychotic breaks. They kept him a minimum amount of time and then let him loose. He then had a break and stabbed her mother to death, thinking her a threat. They'd been married nearly 50 years. He was taken away and put in a mental hospital, without any real idea of what he'd done. Once he was put on medication and treated, he realised it and is haunted by the memories. In some ways, lucidity is its own curse. And the tragic thing is that it didn't have to happen. It would only be natural for the daughter to feel guilt, even though she did what she could. It's the type of thing to trigger depression in and of itself. Mental illness is insidious that way. But it can be shouldered, and even become something that can either remit or be tolerated to such an extent that you can get your life back. The hardest thing is never letting go of the faith that things can get better while taking baby steps to make them so.