Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Silent Night

Thanksgiving morning I went out to get a coffee and drove past some well-insulated souls who were camping out in front of the neighborhood big box electronics store. With their coolers and lawn chairs, thinsulate and sweaters, they were bound and determined to be first in line when the store opened early the following morning.

It's always struck me as strange that we refer to the "official" start of the holiday season as "Black Friday." It's the "most wonderful time of the year" and yet the associations with the Great Depression and its own black weekday are undeniable. (More undeniable when the January credit card statements arrive....) And while I can think of little more intolerable than wading into the shark-infested waters of bargain-hunters hell-bent of finding the perfect holiday gift for their loved ones, I know that there are a great many people who look forward to this experience every year. It has become a holiday tradition right up there with any depicted by Currier and Ives.

I've been thinking a lot about holiday traditions.

It seems like the older we get, the farther we are prepared to go to honor the memory of a Christmas past.

People do things at Christmas that they don't do at any other time of the year: they go to parties, eat strange foods and even watch Hollywood musicals. People make appearances at soup kitchens, nursing homes, churches; they donate money and clothing, go sledding and even sing. And they do things to their homes that they would never do at any other time of the year.

I saw a television special about the "most extreme Christmas houses." They interviewed people around the U.S. who each year install ever more elaborate holiday light shows. Each of the people interviewed talked in terms of the hundreds of thousands of lights they put up and the hundreds of extra dollars in additional electricity they consumed. One man, a law enforcement officer who proudly identified himself as Mr. Christmas, even runs a low power radio station from a closet in his home during Christmas.

It would be easy to default to the bromide that Christmas is for children but, like most things adults say, I think it's more complicated than that. I think adults extend themselves at this time of year as a way of finding their way back to their own Christmas Past.

From my Christmas past, I can remember being excited to go to have my picture taken with Santa. I remember going downtown for the Christmas parade. I remember looking forward to the annual showing of "A Charlie Brown Christmas." And I remember sitting on the floor in the gym in my elementary school and watching "Babes in Toyland" just before the Christmas break. But as I have been thinking about Christmas this year, the dominant image has been surprising in its stillness.

In our living room there was a bay window and window seat and directly across the street there was a very bright streetlight. Each year, when it came time to put up the tree, we would experiment with different locations, but one of the most popular was to center it in the bay window. Lit or unlit, decorated or undecorated, it was thrilling to see a tree standing in the living room framed by the yellow curtains and silhouetted by the light coming through the window from across the street.

The image that I have been carrying this year is from my polo pajama days--I can't remember what year. I do recall waking up way too early and, like Cindy Loo Who, going into the living room just to see what Santa had been up to.

We had apparently been very good that year because in addition to the wrapped gifts that had been there when I went to bed, there were unwrapped gifts from Santa for my brother and sister and me. But what I am remembering is the site of that tree and the light from the street as it bounced off the snowbank and into the living room. The house was still, the scene was magical and like the wrapped packages, the day had promise.

Growing up is a lot like unwrapping those packages: despite wishing and hinting for a Major Matt Mason with jet pack, you never know when you're going to get something practical like socks, or a sweater.

Over the years I have spent quite a few Christmases organizing events for children and generating donations for worthy causes and so by the time that the 25th rolls around, I am pretty Christmassed out. I try to "gear up" for the holidays by playing the holiday music and I really do look forward to watching "White Christmas" every year, but Christmas for me happens late in the evening the night before.

Round about midnight I like to go outside and just listen.

It gets quiet in a way that doesn't happen at any other time of the year. After the last of the retail warriors has hung up their coats, after the kids are in bed, after everything, there is silence. There is no traffic, no car alarms, no dogs barking: it's still. As I listen, I am standing again in the living room of my childhood. All too soon the air will be cut with the sounds of traffic and children, dogs and sirens, but for a couple of hours it really is a silent night.

The escalating chaos of the ever-lengthening holiday season is over. The preparations are as complete as they are going to be and, as the poem says, people are at last able to settle their brains.

It's kind of like when your computer locks up and the only way to move forward is to turn it off and wait a couple of minutes before turning it back on again. In the silence of the Christmas overnight, we are rebooting.

I recently read a news item about research that showed children are innately sociable and helpful to others. As we get older, we learn other behaviors that seem to be driven by our need for protection and self-preservation, but right at the very beginning we seem to have very strong instincts to help other people. That, as adults, we are more likely to manifest these same behaviors at this time of year suggests that we are driven by a spirit from our past.

As our brains are settling and we are reconnecting with our most essential selves, we humans are capable of some remarkable things.

Not a year goes by that someone does not reference the Christmas of 1914 and the 48-hour spontaneous truce that broke out through the trenches. World War I would claim approximately 9 million lives, but for a brief period, the enemies exchanged gifts, shared food and even played soccer. It only happened once, during the War's first Christmas, but it speaks volumes about the difference between our instincts and our learned behaviors.

Out of the silence of the Christmas overnight can come the ideal gift, the ideal moment and even our ideal of who we want to be. I am not a person of faith, but, in my own way, I do recognize this night as being different from every other night and one that is full of promise and for that reason I do look forward to it every year.

--Graham Campbell
Associate Director







Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Go Ahead, Make My Week!


UPDATE: Got another note from Susan Jones at 6:20 PM. This morning she participated in a second Triple P (Postive Parenting Program) session. During the session, she created a written plan for tracking bothersome behaviors and how she would handle them. She decided to focus not only on stopping negative behavior, but also on creating a more fun and encouraging atmosphere in her home. Here are her comments:

"I have seen changes already. The positive stuff makes all the difference. . .thanks for the game plan. It made bathtime and supper so much easier. I can almost see where the light at the end of the tunnel is."

Thanks, Susan, for taking time out of your busy day with your four little ones to let me know Triple P is helping. This kind of feedback from parents makes my day. Heck, it makes my week!

--Judith Allee
Parent Support Coordinator

Making a Difference One Parent at a Time


This blog submission is from Susan Jones, a young mom, also a nurse, who has participated in various parenting classes over the last few years. This year she started volunteering to facilitate classes with other parents. Last week, she participated in Triple P (Positive Parenting Program) and picked up some new tips and tricks. Here's what she wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
That Triple P (Positive Parenting Program) tape that I watched last week has really smacked me in the face a couple of times this week. It changed my attitude. I just had these really negative tapes in my head and Triple P stopped me from repeating them to my children. I just imagine myself as a wee little person and then I hear myself saying those things. Then I say, "No, no, no!" and I stop myself from saying them. It scares me. The house is supposed to be a safe, positive place to fall, where they can be comfortable being who they are, because in the world they can't be. I love knowing that I made a difference in their lives.

Susan M. Jones, Hanover, Ohio, "Mom of 4 Angels"

Monday, November 16, 2009

The Secrets of Comedy

For as long as I can remember, I have always loved to tell jokes. Puns, riddles, shaggy dog stories, one-liners: didn’t matter to me so long as I could get a reaction from an audience.
I can remember waiting eagerly for each new issue of Jack & Jill magazine so that I could devour the latest jokes and riddles. It’s almost two generations later and I can still remember Q: Why is your heart like a policeman? A: Because it follows a regular beat.
I remember watching Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In. At the end of the show, the regulars and, often some surprise guests, would appear from behind brightly painted doors and deliver jokes and riddles that were structured like those in Jack & Jill. I know now that I couldn’t have understood most of what they were talking about, but I do recall getting caught up in the laughter. Here were people like Goldie Hawn and Arte Johnson, Henry Gibson & Ruth Buzzi trading jokes with Vaudeville-trained past masters like Red Buttons and Milton Berle and everyone just seemed like they were having fun making one another laugh. In the same way that I committed the Jack & Jill material to memory, I would study Laugh-In and remember the jokes so I could tell them to kids at school.
Sexual permissiveness is the problem with today’s children, but if it hadn’t been for sexual permissiveness, we wouldn’t even have today’s children.
Clearly, my comedy was way too avant-garde, which is a polite way of saying that I wasn’t funny.
In his book “Born Standing Up”, Steve Martin captures my Cliff Notes approach to comedy in this one story:
"OK, I don't like to gear my material to the audience, but I'd like to make an exception, because I was told that there is a convention of plumbers in town this week—I understand about 30 of them came down to the show tonight—so before I came out, I worked up a joke especially for the plumbers. Those of you who aren't plumbers probably won't get this and won't think it's funny, but I think those of you who are plumbers will really enjoy this. This lawn supervisor was out on a sprinkler maintenance job, and he started working on a Findlay sprinkler head with a Langstrom seven-inch gangly wrench. Just then this little apprentice leaned over and said, 'You can't work on a Findlay sprinkler head with a Langstrom seven-inch wrench.' Well, this infuriated the supervisor, so he went and got Volume 14 of the Kinsley manual, and he reads to him and says, 'The Langstrom seven-inch wrench can be used with the Findlay sprocket.' Just then the little apprentice leaned over and says, 'It says sprocket, not socket!' [Worried pause.] "Were these plumbers supposed to be here this show?"
There is an elegance to a well-crafted joke that connects with both the brain and the funny bone. The listener is drawn in by the premise, surprised by the punchline and brought to laughter in less time than it takes to explain how to use a telephone.
I remember coming across a record by Nipsey Russell who made a name for himself by retelling fairy tales. I couldn’t have been more than ten years old when I heard this, but it is a perfect example of a well-crafted one-liner:
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe, She had so many children she didn’t know what to do…. Apparently.
I told that joke for years before I ever understood what it meant.
Mastering the well-turned phrase was and is an important rite of passage in my family.
I have written about this before and I am still not sure where it came from. It’s not as though we would sit around in the evening and read to one another from Oscar Wilde. In fact, I would venture that we were the very model of a post-literate family. In keeping with so many of my generation, my brother, sister and I were raised by television and movies.
The reality may have been somewhat different, but what I recall is that for a family we lead remarkably separate lives. My brother was and is very kinesthetic, always moving through space. We would watch episodes of The Green Hornet and he would want to practice a martial arts move he had seen Bruce Lee do and I would have to be his dummy.
It would be easy to describe myself as the bookish writer type, but I really wasn’t. I have always been a dreadfully slow reader and writing for any length of time makes my hands cramp. Everything I know about good writing and great ideas I learned in the same way I learned about comedy: by repeating someone’s else’s material.
My sister has the best balance of traits from my mother and my father: she has brains, she has grace and she has more personality than should really be legal. Whereas my brother and I both tend to put people on edge—my brother because he looks and moves like he has a temper and me because, given the opportunity, I look like I would try and sell you some software, or explain a particularly compelling plot point from Star Trek—my sister can put people immediately at their ease. She wields her personality like a spotlight transforming those on whom it is focused.
I won’t pretend to speak for my siblings, but I know that as I was growing up I spent a lot more time around adults than I did around peers. At the time I didn’t mind one bit: it seemed like my brother was always using me for judo practice and my classmates, by and large, were making fun of my weight.
My parents had funny friends and I remember the steady stream of laughter coming from the living room.
My dad often brought friends and co-workers home from the office and they would de-brief over drinks as my mother and the children would eat our dinner in the nearby kitchen. We had a swinging door between the kitchen and the dining room that lead to the living room and it would swing open for refills and it would swing open for calls for my mother to join the guests, and it would swing open to use the telephone to call another kitchen to explain when someone or another would be home.
Once I learned how to pour a drink and could remember to keep the ice cube trays filled, I got to spend more time in the room. My dad’s friends were quick and funny and absolutely merciless.
To me, comedy equaled power: the ability to make someone laugh. In the same way that I studied Laugh-In, I knew there was something to learn from my father and his rogues gallery even if I didn’t understand it.
Growing up, I spent a lot of hours with my father. Hours past my bedtime when he would be eating a foil-wrapped dinner that had been left for him in the oven, or having a bowl of ice cream and corn syrup before turning in. Hours standing by waiting for him to ask for a tool from his tool box, or some part from his workshop. In all that time I don’t think I ever got to know him very well.
One of my father’s sayings was “children should be seen and not heard.” And by “seen” that meant on his schedule and not ours. My dad was not one to come to school functions, or meet the teacher nights, but he would get me up early on the weekend and take me to out of the way places that he had heard about where they made good sausage, or did quality iron work, or there was a tractor for sale that he wanted to see.
We never really talked all that much and certainly never had any of those father-son talks that I would see on TV or at the movies. I remember trying to ask him for some advice about a girl when I was in high school and my overwhelming impression was that instead of bringing us closer together, it just made him uncomfortable.
I don’t mean to suggest that my dad didn’t love his family, I’m just not sure that he knew what to do with us.
As I was growing up, there were times that I thought my dad was mean when he would be laughing with his friends one minute and making my mom cry the next. I know differently now, but, like the Old Woman in the Shoe joke, it took time and experience to reach that “understanding.”
I say “understanding”, but it’s guesswork really. It’s an untested assumption reached in the two decades since my father died.
I know with some confidence that he was an unhappy man for most of the time that I knew him. I sensed that it was only in the last few years of his life and after I had left home that he reached some measure of contentment. By that time I was only seeing my dad in snapshots when I visited at holidays, but he seemed settled in a way that I don’t remember him ever being while I lived with him. I remember trying to tell him that I thought he seemed happy, but I think that got lost when he received his cancer diagnosis shortly afterwards.
One of the great sadnesses of my life is that I never got to say goodbye to my father. As near as I can figure it, I was in an airplane somewhere over Lake Ontario when he died. I wanted to tell him that I loved him and to whatever extent I was, and am, able, that I appreciate a little more of where he might have been coming from.
People tell jokes as a way of making sense of their world, of controlling the uncontrollable. They are a reality check for know-it-alls and a momentary reboot for those who find themselves stuck in a rut. Comedy provides a kind of power over your environment, however fleeting, and one that improves with experience.
Just as experience tells you how long to hold the pause in the Old Woman story, it also tells you how to make sense of the other stories in your life. Waiting that one extra “Mississippi” can bring a lot of things into focus; too many and the joke isn’t funny anymore.
I love my dad: more now than at some points when he was alive. Every year brings more questions that I wish he was around to answer. I would like nothing more than to hear his raucous laugh and to see him wear his glasses upside down one more time. I think now we would have a lot more to talk about and to laugh about.
--Graham Campbell
Associate Director

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Busy School Year Under Way


I have been in schools back to back trying to spread the message of suicide prevention. Talking about suicide prevention in schools is so important because it reduces the stigma of a topic that teachers sometimes do not cover. It provides students with the necessary tools for helping themselves, or a loved one, who may one day face suicidal thoughts or depression.

I hear too many times from people who have lost a loved one to suicide that they wished they knew the warning signs, for if they did their loved one might still be here today. Hearing from survivors after suicides confirms how important my job is.

The sad reality is that this position may not exist after 2009. Due to The Ohio Department of Health no longer funding intentional injury grants, the program is facing elimination unless we fund funding elsewhere, which doesn’t look like it is going to happen. I have been writing grants left and right, however, I have had no luck.

I encourage you to spread the message of how important our program is, and if you know someone who may be able to donate to, or fund, the suicide prevention program to give MHA a call. This program really does save lives.

--Ashley Shaw
Suicide Prevention Coordinator

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Spot in the Name of Love

Bringchange2mind.org has launched a public service campaign to confront the stigmas associated with mental illnesses.

Here is the spot:



And here is a behind the scenes video containing interviews with those who appear in the spot, including Glenn Close, and director Ron Howard.

Friday, October 16, 2009

Fakery

The news this morning is very different than the news last night.

A little more than 12 hours ago, all we heard about was a 6 year-old boy who may, or may not, have become trapped in a homemade weather balloon that was drifting through the skies of Colorado.

This morning, there is much speculation that the whole thing may have been a stunt designed to land the boy and his family a reality show.

Yesterday, there was concern that the boy might, at any moment, plummet to the ground at the end of a long silver streamer.

This morning, there is debate around who should be held accountable and pay for the cost of scrambling the Air Force.

Compassion is a precious commodity and becoming more so in our increasingly cynical age. It's a natural resource in humans and, like other natural resources, it is finite in supply. The body can make more blood, but compassion once invested can never be replaced.

Since yesterday's incident, it has come to light that balloon boy's family had been on "Wife Swap" a reality show where two very different families trade their matriarchs for the benefit of the TV audience.

Armed with this piece of information, radio talk show hosts are this morning parsing a comment made by the boy in an on-camera interview last night. He is alleged to have said that he "did it for the show."

Whether it was for the TV show that they supposedly want, or for the "show" of all the first responders, including the United States Air Force, trying to safely resolve a potentially high-risk situation has not been made clear and will doubtless keep many a radio host's phone lines lit for the rest of the day.

But now that that conversation is out there, now that the public's reflexive compassion has been challenged, deflated by the prospect of some ulterior motive, it will only serve to make it that much harder to feel compassionate the next child at risk.

Asking people for support--whether emotional, or even financial--is a trust-based transaction. People call us looking for help every day, but they can only do that once they have accepted that we will not take advantage of their vulnerability. Even in today's warts-and-all culture, it takes a lot for people to disclose that they are experiencing a mental illness, or have a family member who is.

Usually, when they call us it's because they want to speak to Paddy. After 28 years she has a proven track record of being a compassionate and discrete advocate. When Paddy is out of the office, or otherwise unavailable, it is often harder, or even impossible, for them to work with any of our other staff. The callers don't know us and are not yet sure that they can trust us. We have to earn that trust.

Doing this work takes money and a good portion of the money that comes to us as personal donations is in recognition of Paddy's service to the donor, or the donor's family. If, for any reason, those donors questioned her discretion, that money would evaporate.

And it's not just stigma issues relating to mental health that can compromise our compassion. People donate money based on emotion and when those feelings are called into question, then barriers are go up. 17 years ago, the president of the national United Way resigned over a misuse of funds scandal that still influences donors. Locally, we hear almost annually about how there are donors who won't support the Red Cross because they charged for donuts during World War II.

Once stories like that get out there, they impact donations to all organizations. Donors who, for whatever reason, have invested their compassion in a cause, or a news story, or even another person and later learn that that decision was unwise, or worse, foolish, think twice about making their next investment.

Nobody likes to get played.

I have a family member who has, on more than one occasion, disclosed that he has attempted suicide.

His disclosures were, by definition, always in the past tense and generally took the form of "You know, last winter, I went into the woods to kill myself." (I didn't know that he had been planning any of these attempts and was grateful that, for whatever reason, he had not been successful.)

I have neither the credentials nor the skill to attempt to analyze his motives, but earlier this fall, he called me and I noted that his tense had shifted from the past to the future. He was talking about "getting out of town" and how he "couldn't take it anymore." He engaged in what is described as "settling of accounts," saying good-bye in one form or another.

I spoke with his mother and she was concerned that she could not get in touch with him and that he had been talking about suicide.

I called his cell phone and got his voice mail. I don't remember what I said exactly, but my intent was to get him to come back from "the woods."

A little while later he called me and in the course of our conversation indicated that he had taken something--he kept asking if his speech was clear. He said several times that he could not take the "ostracization" from the rest of the family. He felt isolated and alone. He also indicated his approximate location by saying that he couldn't talk anymore because he was losing cell service.

I called the police. I believed that he had taken an overdose and was on the verge of passing out.

After a lengthy interview with the police, they took his cell phone number and called it in an effort to determine his location.

Sometime later, my family member called me and said "if that's you're game, I'm one step ahead of you."

He had talked to the police and assured them that he was not near death and nowhere near where he indicated to me that he was.

I cannot condense my relationship with my family member with any skill and ably convey its complexity and accumulated failures over the course of 5 decades. I know I did not always behave as I should have, nor did I respond to every request for help. I do however feel that I had always demonstrated my compassion and this incident was the last straw.

He tried to call back several times later that day, but I would not take his calls. I have nothing left to give to him. What I had had, he took advantage of.

Trading on the compassion of others has real consequences both for those involved in the transaction as well as others. I will not be so fast to respond to his threat of suicide, or other cry for help. He has proven himself to be one who does it "for the show."

There are many sad aspects to his story, but using the currency of suicide to get attention diminishes the impact of authentic attempts. It's like crying wolf, or telling the authorities that your child is trapped in a silver weather balloon.

Nobody likes to get played.

--Graham Campbell
Associate Director

Monday, October 12, 2009

The Value of Gas Station Cinamon Rolls

I know that no one does this but me. It’s my secret defense against a world that continues to disappoint, frustrate, and aggravate.
There’s a shop around the corner that sells my rescue remedy. Sometimes it’s a bottle, sometimes it’s a bar, sometimes it’s cold and sometimes it’s hot. And on the really bad days—more frequent of late, it seems—my remedy might be a combination of these ingredients.
I eat.
I’m not one of those foodies who seem to be all over the TV extolling the virtues of chocolate covered ants, or wolverine toenails with ceviche. I prefer the gas station cinnamon rolls to those you get in a bakery and I like my cold drinks with as many syllables as possible.
As a result of my caloric-clad cowardice, my inability to confront the issues and the people that drive me to find my ho-ho-ho in a plastic wrapper, I am truly the bigger person. Bigger not because I turn the other cheek, but because I have more cheek to turn—chins too.
Another result of my rescue remedy is that I have spent more time with doctors than I would prefer. Blood tests, treadmills, HDL and LDL are now a part of my vocabulary. I make monthly trips to the pharmacy and am constantly surprised by how much money goes into so few pills.
I take the pills and the stress tests because, however frustrating everyday life can be, I’m not done with it yet. I would like to live long enough to be able to give my wife the kind of life that she deserves.
So my health is important to me and I pay a premium to maintain it. And like many, the dollar cost of that premium keeps going up far faster than my salary.
Don’t get me wrong, I know I am very fortunate to have access to any kind of insurance coverage. But I also know that having less money to pay the other expenses of daily life because of it is one of the reasons that my car seems to stop at the corner store.
Being sick in this country is frightening: more frightening than anything they could come up with on television, or in the movies. For an increasing number of us—even with coverage—it is the nightmare from which you never awake.
The simple doctor visit, with the odd test and prescriptions, can be make a sizable dent in the family budget, but if hospitals and specialists become involved then not just their health, but their economic future can easily be jeopardized.
I am not a stone. I would love a chance to drive a fancy sports car, live in one of those McMansions that were so popular a couple of years ago and have a big enough yard to have more than one dog. I want all of that, but I know that it will have to wait until my bank balance can support it. If I get seriously sick, I do not have the same luxury of deferred gratification. I have a simpler choice: follow the doctor’s orders, wherever they lead, or wait for nature to take its course.
And once you get sick, you increase your risks not only for related disorders, but also that your insurance company will only selectively cover your expenses, or drop your coverage entirely.
Seen in those terms, every trip to the corner store for a flavored, or frozen, or chocolate-covered anything threatens my life, my health and my family’s future.
Great: more stress.
It’s like wearing a Velcro suit in a velour-covered world: once you start down this path, it can take a real effort to break loose.
In some respects I am more fortunate than others who experience congenital disorders, my problems are entirely of my own making. Cutting back and cutting out, walking the dog more and finding other ways to work out can significantly impact my health issues. This in turn will reduce my need for medication and the associated costs.
Sounds all very rational and straightforward, but my car keeps stopping at the store. And will keep stopping until I can address the underlying issues that make junk food so attractive to me.
My mental health and my physical health are connected around my ability to manage stress. There are healthier alternatives to inhaling a pint of Cherry Garcia ice cream, but none nearly as enjoyable.
My brother keeps trying to get me to take up boxing, or some other physical activity. He claims that beating up a bag will be just as satisfying as anything I could eat. I understand that there are people for whom that is true, but to me, it makes as much sense as writing down what’s bothering you on a piece of paper and flushing it down the toilet. I could never do that out of fear that the toilet would back up.
A component of the current discussion about healthcare has been the need to get consumers more involved in their own care. The assumption is that having an accurate picture of the cost of care will encourage us all to get healthier and the healthier we get, the less we will need medical care and the cost will go down. It’s a lovely idea and based on sound economic theory, but people are already afraid to get sick. Sticker shock is not going to get me to go to the gym either, but it will get me to have another cookie.
There is no doubt that fear is an excellent motivator: it was responsible for the high level of engagement in the recent town hall meetings on this issue. But comfort and security are perhaps more powerful: this is perhaps why the couch always seems to win out over the exercise bike.
A lot of ink has been already spilled on this topic and I certainly don’t claim that I have any new insights, but I believe this is too important a conversation to be left to insurance companies and politicians.
I keep coming back to the idea that this entire debate is, first and foremost, a conversation about values. What kind of a country would oblige so many of its citizens to live in fear of disease?
The rights recognized in the Declaration of Independence are fundamental to the American character, regardless of where you stand on the political spectrum. Of the big three—life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness—the notion of a “right to life” is clearly galvanizing. Liberty and happiness are important, but they are meaningless without life. Should we really be drawing a distinction between life and health? Between happiness and health?
Reforming healthcare goes to the heart of the question of what the country stands for. The health of any community is a reflection of the health of its citizens. Safe water and effective sanitation are basic to any model of communal living. We demand the government intervene at the threat of pandemic and we volunteer to give blood in the event of disaster. Even the most vehement of libertarians support the notion of a common good.
And if you don’t accept the notion of being your brother’s keeper then you should appreciate that providing access to basic healthcare to the many will reduce the cost of healthcare for the individual. Hospitals spend millions of dollars every year providing care to those uninsured patients that we have heard so much about. There isn’t a healthcare facility that could stay in business if they didn’t pass those costs along to the rest of us.
This is the essential pro-life discussion and should not be hijacked by the misdirection of “death panels”, “Obamacare” and socialism. It is not hyperbole to note that this is a conversation about what a 21st century America is about and what it stands for. And if you accept that there is some minimum standard for the health of the public then I am convinced that people of good will can develop a practical plan to make that happen.
As the holidays are approaching, I look forward to the opportunity to watch “A Christmas Carol” the essential holiday fable. Early in the story, Scrooge is told that there are many who would rather die then go to the work houses that were so common in Dickens’ time. Scrooge’s response is that if they would rather die, “they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.”

By the end of the story, Scrooge is able to change his fate by extending his hand to those less fortunate than himself. By investing in his neighbors, he enriches himself. This is not an idea unique to Dickens, or Christmas, but, I would submit, part of the national identity.

Just as the time has come for me to take responsibility for my health and my future and stop using food as a band-aid, we must decide that investing in healthcare for all is the only responsible thing to do.

I have to go now and take the dog for a walk.
--Graham Campbell
Associate Director

Friday, October 2, 2009

October at YES


We have a couple great Halloween themed days for the month of October.
  • On Friday, October 23rd, we are having a YES Halloween Dance from 7pm - 10pm.
  • Also the Denison Mortar Board is throwing a Halloween Party for us on Tuesday, October 27th.

--Cheryl Dupler

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Suicide Prevention Week a Success!



Phew, I can finally breathe!

Last week was National Suicide Prevention week, and as suicide prevention coordinator I was very busy.

The annual candle light vigil was last week, and the turn out was great. There were over forty people there, along with media coverage from The Advocate and WCLT.

The suicide prevention quilt was debuted to the public, as well as a call for more photos to add to the quilt. Anyone who would like to include their loved one on the quilt can contact me for more information.

Besides suicide prevention week, I have been busy researching and writing grants for the program because the grant that currently funds the program ends on December 31 with no option to renew it. It has been very stressful trying to fund funding because the suicide prevention program is needed in Licking County. I have also been presenting in area middle and high schools on the warning signs of suicide and depression.

I want to end with a thank you to all of you who made the vigil such a success. I look forward to seeing you all soon!

--Ashley Shaw
Suicide Prevention Coordinator

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Responding After Suicide

Paddy Kutz, Executive Director, Mental Health America of Licking County

For all the talk about it, suicide is still a fairly rare event, but if you lost someone to suicide, there are some things you need to know.

  • Most people won’t ever know anyone who ended his or her own life, so most people don’t think about it very much. Most people don’t have to.
  • Most people have never thought about what it is like to “survive” the death of a loved one, relative, friend or co-worker.
  • If you are like most people, you probably didn’t think that much about it either, so it’s little wonder that you may be confused and uncertain about what to do should you experience a suicide. You may wonder:

What to say to others?
What to expect as you grieve?
What to expect from others who are also grieving?
How to explain this to someone else?
How to explain this to yourself?
Why did this happen?
etc. etc. etc.

There will be a mixture of sadness, bewilderment, and uncertainty and lots of questions and concerns.

Unfortunately, most people don’t know this and there aren’t any easy solutions to the difficult situations a death by suicide presents. Sometimes there aren’t any answers for the questions raised.

  • “Why didn’t I see any warning signs?” They may not be easy to spot. Many signs such as changes in behavior, may develop slowly – if at all. People who are planning a suicide may hide their feelings and plans from others.
  • “How could he or she have done it?” It is natural to feel angry and resentful toward the person who died. Acknowledging these feelings can be an important part of the healthy process.
  • “Was it my fault?” You may feel guilty or wonder if you could have done more to help the person. Or you might worry that you somehow caused the person to choose suicide. Remember, it is NOT your fault.

Understanding Your Feelings

A person grieving after a suicide often experiences:

  • Shock and denial – at first, you may feel emotionally numb or have a hard time believing the person is truly gone. You may even try to deny the cause of death.
  • Anger – you may feel angry with yourself and others for not being able to “save” the person. You may also feel angry with the person who died by suicide.
  • Guilt – it’s common for suicide survivors to blame themselves for things they did or didn’t do. But remember, you couldn’t know what would happen.
  • Shame – you may worry that others will criticize you or judge you harshly.
  • Loneliness and fear – as initial feelings of shock wear off, you must begin to face the finality of your loss. You may feel insecure and afraid to face the future.
  • Hopelessness and sadness – feelings of hopelessness and sadness may seem overwhelming. You may wonder if you’ll ever feel joy and pleasure again. Watch out for depression setting in. Grieving is natural, but depression is a treatable illness, which you must deal with appropriately. Get help!
  • Acceptance and hope – with time you will learn to accept your loss and feel hopeful again.

Your feelings may surprise you, but they are a natural part of the grieving process. Most people feel strong emotions when they lose someone and the shock of a death by suicide may cause even more intense feelings. Trying to hide or ignore your feelings won’t make them go away. It may take time, but you can learn to copy with these intense, and sometimes confusing, feelings.

“Why suicide? There is no single cause. Generally, the answer is that the person felt trapped by what they saw as a hopeless situation, worthlessness, they felt isolated and cut off from life. They felt intense pain and anguish. They probably weren’t choosing death as much as choosing to end the unbearable pain, whether from problems and losses or from the symptoms of a mental illness or both.

Mental Health America of Licking County has a Survivors After Suicide support group. It is free and can be so helpful in the healing process. The group meets at our office at the rear of 65 Messimer Drive the third Tuesday of the month at 7 pm. We have many suggestions on how to handle these difficult situations. You can call us at 740-522-1341 or email at mhalc@alink.com. Our website is www.mhalc.org for information and resources as well.

What to do When Depression Follows a Heart Attack


by Paddy Kutz, Executive Director, Mental Health America of Licking County


In some cases, the trauma caused by a heart attack may actually trigger a major depression. Recent studies have indicated a high rate of depression among cardiac patients, which may increase their risk for further cardiac events.

Two possible reasons for this are: 1) depressed patients are less likely to stick to treatment and 2) the functional changes brought on by the symptoms of depression itself. Therefore, it is important to pay attention to the “down” mood following a health crisis if it persists for more than several weeks and interferes with normal daily activities.

The “Blues” vs. Major Depression: feelings of depression are normal following a health crisis; however, when these symptoms are prolonged, serious problems can occur. In other words, a major depression is more than a brief or transitory change in mood. It is important to distinguish between normal feelings of sadness (“blues”) and the more serious condition of major depression. In the “blues” state, time heals, the mood lifts, and people continue to function. In contrast, major depression is not a passing mood; however with treatment, most individuals return to full and productive lives.

Know the Symptoms: Individuals experiencing 4 or more of the following symptoms for more than 2 weeks or whose usual functioning has become impaired by such symptoms, should seek an evaluation for depressive illness.
  • Persistent low, anxious or “empty” feelings.
  • Decreased energy, fatigue.
  • Loss of interest or pleasure in usual activities.
  • Sleep disturbances.
  • Appetite and weight changes (either gain or loss).
  • Feelings of hopelessness, pessimism.
  • Thoughts of death or suicide, suicide attempts.
  • Difficulty in concentrating, remembering, making decisions.
  • Chronic aches or persistent bodily symptoms that are not caused by physical disease.
Message of Hope: With treatment, over 80% of individuals with depressive illness can improve and return to daily activities, usually in a matter of weeks. There is a choice of treatments available, including medications, therapy, or a combination of both. If you or someone you know shows signs of depression, it is important to talk with the physician and/or a local mental health professional.

Friends and Family Can Help: The very nature of depression can keep individuals from seeking help. Perhaps the most important way family and friends can help is by encouraging the individual to get appropriate treatment. Because depression destroys self-esteem and confidence, family and friends need to provide support, love and encouragement. In addition, they can help in the following ways:
  1. Maintain as normal a relationship as possible.
  2. Point out, without being critical or disapproving, distorted negative thinking.
  3. Smile and encourage honest effort.
  4. Acknowledge that the person is suffering and in pain.
  5. Offer kind words and pay compliments.
  6. Show that you care, respect, and value the depressed person.
  7. Until the depression lifts, assist the individual in following the cardiac treatment regimen.
Remember there are many places in the community where people with depression can be diagnosed. In fact, Mental Health America of Licking County provides free depression screening that you can take to your doctor or you can screen for depression on-line at www.mhalc.org and click below the Danger sign located in the left hand column.

Mental Health America of Licking County is a member agency of Licking County United Way and the Community Mental Health & Recovery Board. My email is paddykutz@alink.com.

Friday, September 11, 2009

International Talk Like a Pirate Day 2009


Why not? Ye land lubbing bilge rats have sumpin’ agin’ pirates?

Who hasn’t imagined themselves at the wheel of the Black Pearl with their best parrot at their side sailing the Spanish Main in search of booty…, er , bounty?

What began almost a decade ago as a challenge between two friends has grown to see if they could make their friends talk like pirates, has become an international phenomenon.

Can you think of a better way to celebrate an ex-wife’s birthday?

You don’t need a wooden leg, or an eye patch, just a few key phrases. End a sentence with “Arrr!” every now and then and you’re on your way.

Pirates are very social—they are always happy to meet others and share in the romance of the high seas—so be a pirate, seize the day and make all your prisoners talk like pirates!

--Kristen Frame, Compeer Coordinator, has been learning how to tell bilge rats from scurvy dogs

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Desperate Measures


Suicide by cop” is a phrase that popped up in the news recently and is one that conjures up disturbing images.

It is a term used to describe a scenario in which a would-be suicide intentionally behaves in a threatening manner so as to provoke responding law enforcement personnel to use deadly force.

Police officers are trained to respond in a measured way to each situation they encounter. That response escalates as the threat escalates with deadly force being the final option.

A would-be suicide who has recognized that they are unable to take their own life will force a confrontation with the police and then escalate the situation until either the officer or bystander is threatened and deadly force is the only response remaining.

Suicide is the 11th leading cause of death, claiming more than 30,000 Americans each year.

The average number of suicides in Licking County is 15 per 100,000 people per year. In just 8 months, there have been 18 suicides, 3 more than the 12 month average. A recent event, the car chase, has motivated me to write an article about suicide, and what can be done about it.

It is important that people know what can lead to suicide, why people see suicide as their only option, and what resources are available to those who may be having suicidal thoughts. Suicide is often a preventable situation, if people learn the warning signs to recognize.

The most common warning signs are:
  • Withdrawing from friends, family, and/or society.
  • Changes in sleep patterns; sleeping too much or too little.
  • Acting recklessly or engaging in high risk behaviors (driving dangerously, doing “stunts”, disregarding own personal safety).
  • An increase in drug and/or alcohol use.
  • Talking and/or writing about death or suicide.
  • Seeking access to firearms, medications, or other suicide means
  • Saying things like “I can’t go on anymore” or “Everyone would be better off without me” or “I wish I was dead”
  • Experiencing feelings of hopelessness, emptiness, or purposelessness.
  • Anxiousness, irritability, or moodiness.
  • Reading or writing about death or suicide.
  • Suddenly happier or calmer.
  • Giving away possessions or saying good-byes.
  • Making arrangements or setting affairs in order.
People having suicidal thoughts do not want to die; they want an end to the pain and suffering that they are experiencing. They do not realize that suicide is a permanent end to a temporary problem. If they get the help they need while they are having these thoughts they realize they really don’t want to die.

The number one reason that people complete suicide is that they have an untreated mental illness such as depression. Other common reasons include: the death of a loved one, a breakup of a relationship, losing custody of children, or feeling that a child custody decision is not fair, serious loss, terminal illness, accident, physical or emotional pain, physical, verbal, or sexual abuse, legal problems, alcohol or drug abuse .

It is important that people who are experiencing suicidal thoughts understand that there are alternative responses other than suicide.

Some things people can do instead are: take a deep breath and try to identify feelings, write down all of the feelings as a record for later, try and do things that help them feel better for at least 30 minutes, write down individual negative thoughts and provide an alternative response that changes the perspective, and most importantly talk to someone.

Talking to someone helps communicate what you are feeling to someone that can help them. There are several resources that people can call, as well as visit on the internet. Locally, the local crisis line 211 or 345-HELP is the best resource to call if someone is experiencing suicidal thoughts. There are several national hotlines including 1-800-999-9999.

Suicide Prevention Coordinator

Monday, August 24, 2009

Thumb Crack


For me, the word “Facebook” conjures images of books of mug shots at the police station or high school yearbooks. No one looks good there.
I‘ve watched too many Lifetime Channel movies in which someone like Kimberly Williams or Valerie Bertinelli harmlessly post a photo online and they have their identity stolen, or become a victim of stalking, or some other horrible thing happens to them or someone they love (almost certainly to their beloved pet).
I’m not a luddite. I like my privacy. My friends don’t even have my cell phone number. And I never twitter or tweet.
So, when one of my dearest friends, who lives three states away, sent me one of those automated pleas to join Facebook so we could be “Facebook Friends,” I declined, three times.
I was a late convert to email. And don’t get me started on texting! (Thumb crack!)
An old roommate told me that he had posted photos of his recent trip to Israel on Facebook and I should look at them, so I accessed them through someone else’s Facebook account. There, we found a list of photos showing some of my roomate’s “Facebook Friends.” I looked in horror at what could have been a photo of me for all the scary computer criminal world of pet snatchers to see. My nightmare!
To my surprise, I found a link to a long lost friend from college, who is now considering becoming a nun! She is one of the last women I would have expected to be blogging from a South African convent. You think you know someone, and twenty years later they are out nun spotting.
There have got to be easier ways to meet like-minded people than the humiliation of a poor picture posting!
By chance, I was sent a notice today about a web service which matches individuals who experience mental illness on the theory that it is easier for people to meet someone who accept them as they are, if they disclose upfront that they have experienced mental illness. The site is http://www.trueacceptance.com and for now, its services are free. In addition to social matchmaking, the site has a number of links to resources for individuals who experience mental illness.
In Licking County, there is a program which will not find you a mate, but will find you a friend. There is an application process, but, membership is free. The Compeer Program not only matches trained, compassionate volunteers from the community with individuals in recovery from mental illness, it also provides monthly opportunities in which they can meet and enjoy social activities. Last week, we had a Hawaiian Party. Next month, we have four different activities planned and they are all free of charge.
I will continue to meet my friends at the Compeer Socials. You will not be seeing me on Facebook in the near future. I still use the United States Postal Service and UPS. My dog, however, is considering opening his own webpage.
--Kristen Frame
Compeer Coordinator