Steps to recovery and mental freedom: Part 2: Marie Asuncion

Once upon a time I knew I was never going to be the same. I knew I had this illness, and for a long time I knew I wouldn’t get better, permanently. One day I was working, and felt sick, so I had called in to work to take the day off. I hurried and tried to remedy my situation, but nothing but time did the trick. I needed to step back. Despite the career-driven and motivated young woman I was, I needed to step back. Did I blame myself at all? The answer to that is yes. I wanted to be perfect. I wanted to make money the way everyone else did, and not give a single thought of my illness. But, inevitably, the illness found me first. I knew I had to give myself a rest and slowly work my way back up to recovery. Sad, it seems, but I know I need to understand my world, a world where mental instability is always going to be present.

I know that deep down inside I will always have something to turn me away from that scary feeling I get when I am not on top. It's miraculous that someone with a mental illness can dig deep and on their own find remedies without turning to outward advice. Maybe one day we all will find that special something that will always be there when we need it the most. I’m scared that one day my life may never be the same, and I could lose everything. But in due time these things come to pass and I am never left alone, thankfully.

It's all about balance. I cannot be Marie when Marie is doing everything but taking care of herself. She needs to be around positive influences and people who understand that really, her illness will always be predominant in her life and she is trying to remedy everyday of her life to the best that she can. I can be myself, yes, but in the long run it isn't going to be easy, and it never has. I pull through every time but sometimes I lose all hope, and that is when I know I need my space, my belief system that never shifts, and people who surround me with happiness and productivity.

I'm in a way sorry for all the things I wasn't able to do when I was so sick. I feel bad that I couldn't turn back time and relive those moments when mental freedom could have been mine to keep, but instead, God had a much different path for me, which I would not have changed at all. In retrospect, my life would have been more of a burden if I didn't leave the space I was in and turn around and walk away. I walked away from all of that, because I needed to. Nothing would have saved me except for my own selfless ways. There was a burden in my heart every day for seven years and it is not until now that I can feel like I control the steering wheel. No longer will I doubt my capabilities, I can act and action makes things easier rather than just wishing one's life away.

I know I can be happy one day without having my illness affect what I love to do the most. In the end, however, mental freedom will only be by chance. We cannot change the fact that we have it, and so life may take us into unexpected places and we are left with ourselves, and whatever we need to take with us in order to recover.

Wellness is possible. Remember we are all able.

-Marie

Steps to recovery and mental freedom: Part 1: Marie Asuncion

Whenever I used to get sick, the feeling would be so strong that my mind would begin to wander into places that were so dark, it was depressing. I had lost all my friends during high school, and now as an adult, I pick and choose who I decide to let be my friend, because in a way I need to protect myself. Having a mental illness is something that we as people have to manage on our own and on our own time. You can't expect to be cured when you are constantly busy and have too much on your plate. Recovery takes time so one has to be sure of the necessary precautions they need to take before they feel wellness.

I remember as an adolescent I used to pray a lot. Prayer was my outlet. I could go and pray and the next day I would know that I was being looked after, even during the worst of times. God was a pivotal figure in my life and has helped me recover. My faith has grown ever since, but I am not afraid to share my story, especially with God being the main reason I am better today.

I use certain remedies to help me feel better when I get symptoms. I use my brain, first of all, despite that there is a chemical imbalance I find ways to change the situation and strive to be a perfectionist at it. If I don't know my brain, then it isn't going to co-operate with me. What do I need? Is it medication? Is it time off from work? I let my mind tell my body what it needs, and go from there.

A technique I use a lot is cognitive behaviour therapy. I have read countless resources that I have memorized in the past, so that when I feel confused, or upset, cognitive therapy is one way I can stop the negative thinking; I do this by pulling a plug, so to say. Pulling a plug and letting the negativity drain. This metaphor is perfect since it's what I try to make myself think when I am mentally "stuck". We all have our ways of mentally worrying ourselves. The only thing is that for mentally ill people, worrying can be detrimental to their health. Any little stressor can rock the boat, even sink it. The main goal is to think positive and not to be afraid when failure comes, because it will come, we'll just have to be okay with that.

-Marie

Mike's Story: Part 5

By May 2005 my sore was healed but I was so skinny all my bones were showing. I had smoked so much weed and tobacco my muscles were withering away, so the doctor at the rehab hospital admitted me for a six-week period. I spent most of the time over the first two weeks lying in bed thinking about my life and how it all seemed to be centred around tobacco and marijuana. My mom suggested I should use the opportunity of being hospitalized to stop smoking marijuana since it wasn’t doing me any good. I thought back about the times when my brother would rip me off or how I would crave it so badly when I couldn’t have it. I decided that I didn’t want to be a slave to it any longer.

The psychologist at the rehab visited me and for the first time I accepted that I had a problem. I told him what happened to me and that I believed I was in hell for my sins. He taught me about mental illness and helped me understand that I had probably been suffering from a psychosis. We also talked about scriptures from the Bible – especially the ones about Jesus coming to the world to save sinners not to punish them. I believed him and for the first time in a long, long time I started feeling good about myself.

When I finished my six weeks in rehab, I decided it was time to do something with my life. I decided to go back to school to finish my high school education. After getting my diploma I took a peer support volunteer course. Now I spend a lot of my time at the rehab hospital visiting new patients and helping them cope with their injury and losses. I also decided to learn more about cannabis and psychosis. I learned that marijuana can trigger and worsen schizophrenia and other types of psychotic illnesses. I’ve learned about cannabinoids – the psychoactive chemicals that are found in the bloodstream after you smoke. I thought a lot about that night I broke my neck. The last thing I did before I snapped was that water bong. Knowing that has made me all the more determined to never ever smoke that stuff again. I’ve come to the conclusion that that night I had a psychotic episode triggered by marijuana use.

In October 2008 I also quit smoking cigarettes. I can now proudly say that I am addiction free. I continue to see the psychologist once or twice a week. I’m writing a book about my experiences. I can honestly say that right now I’m in the best mental shape of my life. I love speaking at the PARTY Program telling my story.

And that’s where I am at today. Even though living in a wheelchair is very difficult, I can honestly say that I very much prefer my life the way it is now – without drugs and knowing that I can do things to help others.


-Mike Parent

Jennifer's Blog

Jennifer Asawasegai is one of this year's Faces of Mental Illness.

She has just started her own blog and would like to invite you to visit it and learn about her personal experiences with mental illness.

Visit Jennifer's blog!

Michael Wilson among Order of Canada appointments

Lauded as a strong advocate for mental-health issues, former Canadian ambassador to the United States Michael Wilson is being invested in the Order of Canada as a companion.

Following a long career in politics and the financial sector, Mr. Wilson became a mental-health crusader after losing a son to depression and suicide. He started the Cameron Parker Holcombe Wilson Chair in Depression Studies at the University of Toronto and has worked with the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health in Toronto. He was first appointed as officer of the Order of Canada in 2003.

- Sarah Boesveld
Globe and Mail (excerpt)
Thursday, July 1, 2010.

Social media helping erase stigma of mental illnesses

Web-based forums talk openly about 'the elephant in the corner'

In an article by Gillian Shaw, the Vancouver Sun discusses the many ways social media is helping to reduce the stigma of mental illness by making it easier for those living with mental illness to share their stories in a comfortable environment.

"Once you start clueing people in, you find everybody has been touched by these things but it is the elephant in the corner and we are still not talking about it." Says Steffani Cameron, a blogger and a speaker at Mental Health Camp, on why it is easier to open-up about personal experiences online.

Read full article

Mike's Story: Part 4

When I was well enough to be transferred to Toronto Rehab’s Spinal Cord Program for six months of therapy I was fitted with a wheelchair – and for the first time in two months I was able to sit upright. The very first time I got up in my wheelchair I went outside for some fresh air and saw a man smoking a cigarette. Even though I had been tobacco-free for two months, I craved a smoke so strongly that I went up to this man and asked him if he would give me a cigarette. I was soon smoking almost as much as ever. Soon I became friends with another patient who always had marijuana and quickly resumed that habit as well. Any time I wanted to get high I would just approach him and we would go for a joint.

My life as a patient was very difficult emotionally. Some of the staff tried to talk to me to help me sort out my problems but I refused to talk to anybody about my feelings or the events leading up to my injury. I was living with depression and sometimes suicidal thoughts, thinking I was in hell and being punished for my sins. It was really scary.

I was finally discharged from rehab in October 2002. I spent the winter in a very bad depression. I didn’t want to talk to anybody or go anywhere. I just wanted to stay in my room by myself.

In March 2003 I developed a pressure sore on my tail bone. I don’t know how I got it, whether it was the chair or bed. It just appeared one day and it was really, really bad. I wasn’t allowed to get back into my wheelchair so I had to stay in bed 24/7. All I wanted to do was smoke weed and cigarettes. I ended up staying in bed for two years.

Mike's Story: Part 3

A few days later I was getting ready for bed around 1:30 a.m. Like I always did before going to bed, I smoked a water bong, which would usually put me to sleep right away. However, this time was different. After finishing the bong a strange feeling came over me. The next thing I knew I was I was in my dad’s room shaking his shoulder to wake him up. I said to him, “Let’s go to Israel.” I remember seeing fear in his face so I took my hands off him and left his room. Still dressed only in my underwear, I left our apartment and walked down the hallway, down the staircase and outside the building into the cold winter’s night. I walked across the street to the school yard and kept walking – straight into the school’s brick wall head first. I staggered backwards a couple of feet and then walked again into the wall, head first. A third time, I bowed my head and rammed into the wall. This time all I could do was fall onto the ground, unable to move. I remember lying there on the ground for a couple of minutes looking up into the black sky and thinking to myself, “Am I dead?” and yelling, “Oh God – no, no!” Everything went dark after that as I fell into a coma.

I don’t know how much longer I lay on the ground alone. Shortly after I had left my father’s room, my dad had gone looking for me around our building. He couldn’t find me so he went upstairs to wake my mom and call the police. The police checked around the building for about 45 minutes. They went up to the roof to check there and then headed back sown the stairs when they found I wasn’t up there. On the way down, my dad looked out a window of the stairwell and saw a light shining on the ground across the street, lighting up the top half of my body. Where that light came from was a mystery since there was no streetlight in the area and that part of the schoolyard is usually totally dark at night. The source of that light continues to
be a mystery to me and my family to this day.

I was rushed by ambulance to the hospital, where they found I had a broken neck, which left me quadriplegic (paralyzed in all four limbs). I came out of my coma three days later, which happened to be my 27th birthday. I couldn’t move a muscle. One of my lungs had collapsed and my other lung was on the verge of collapsing. A team of doctors ordered everyone out of the room. They thought I was going to die and called in a priest to give me my last rights. They hooked me up to a ventilator to keep me breathing. The doctors told my mom I would never again be able to move a muscle below my neck. So I lay in bed motionless with tubes down my throat for a month. One day I started getting twitches in my arms. I kept getting more and more movement until one day I was actually able to touch my nose to scratch it. That was like a dream come true!

They then took the breathing tubes out and gave me a forty-eight hour trial to see if I could keep breathing on my own. They put a hole in my throat – called a tracheotomy – which gives them access to my airways to suction out fluids to prevent me from getting pneumonia again. I passed the breathing test and was able to speak for the first time. When I was able to speak, a psychiatrist came into my room. He asked me what had happened to me. The only answer I could come up with was to say that God had done this to me as punishment for my sins. When he shook his head in disbelief, I felt angry and closed my eyes until he left the room. The psychiatrist diagnosed me as having a bipolar disorder and called my incident an “unexplained psychotic event.”

Mike's Story: Part 2

By the time I was 20 years old all my friends had either graduated or dropped out of school. My ability to play hockey was going down the drain so I dropped out too. I got fired from the gas station when they caught me stealing and then found a job at a moving company with one of my friends. But I soon lost that job too for not showing up for work after a night of partying. The times in between jobs were really tough since I didn’t have enough money to feed my cravings for marijuana and cigarettes. I found another job driving a truck. It was a good paying job. But I was spending $50 a week on cigarettes and $180 on marijuana. On Sundays I was also gambling on hockey and football and I was drinking a lot. My whole paycheque was going to feed my addictions. A few years later I lost that job as well because of too much partying.

In 2001 I took a job with a courier company delivering goods to dollar stores. My parents only wanted $50 a week from me for room and board; the rest went to my addictions. One day I got pulled over by the police and got a ticket for not wearing a seat belt. It was only a $100 fine but I never managed to spare the money to pay it. Shortly before Christmas that year I got a notice in the mail telling me my license had been suspended. I lost my job as a result. The first thing I did after collecting my last paycheque was buy a carton of cigarettes. Then I gave my mom $50 and I took another $140 to buy marijuana. All I had left was $80 to buy Christmas gifts for my entire family. It wasn’t enough so I used the money to gamble on football – which of course I lost. That New Year of 2002 I found myself penniless. The feeling inside of me was just one big hunger for marijuana and cigarettes. The cravings were so bad I started selling my things – my computer games, my golf clubs; I even tried selling my hockey skates for a measly $10. I was really skinny, not taking good care of my health or my hygiene – all I cared about was getting high.

I looked in a newspaper and saw an ad for a moving company that offered to pay cash daily. The owner was badly in need of workers, so he called me the next day to offer me a job. My dad bought me a pack of smokes, gave me bus fare and off I went. Late into the shift I was craving so strongly I could barely function, so I faked an injury, collected my pay, and left the poor guy and his customers hanging while I went to my drug dealer to buy some weed and then hustled off home to smoke it.

Mike's Story: Part 1

Mike Parent sustained a spinal cord injury a number of years ago during a psychotic episode.

Mike has presented his story on many occasions to an injury prevention program in Toronto called PARTY; now he wants to share his story with you.

Because Mike has so much to share, his story will be presented in 5 parts. Check back over the next few days to read the rest of Mike's inspirational story.

Part 1

I grew up in Toronto with two loving parents and pretty much everything a kid could ask for. I attended a Catholic grade school. I had three older brothers and a sister and lots of friends. I loved playing organized sports – hockey in the winter and baseball in the summer. I really excelled at hockey and was always at the top of my team in goals and points. At the age of nine, I was breaking scoring records in my hockey league.

But in Grade 7 my troubles started. That is the year I discovered beer and cigarettes. My friends around the neighbourhood were all older than me. We all played hockey together. After one of the games the guys somehow managed to get beer. I tried one and loved the taste and smell of it and instantly became a fan. That’s when I also started smoking cigarettes. Every weekend my friends and I would hang out together smoking cigarettes and drinking.

It wasn’t until Grade 9 that I first tried marijuana. I had known the smell of it for a long time since I shared a room with my older brother, who used it quite regularly. He sometimes would lock me out of the room and stay in there with his friends or my other older brothers. When I was allowed back in the room there would always be a strange smell – like a skunk I thought – and the air would be really cloudy. My friend, who was a year older than me, said that when his brother smokes marijuana it smells the same way. We promised each other that we were going to try it one day. When years later some of the older guys asked me if I wanted to smoke up with them, I was more than eager to try it. I remember taking drags off that first joint and almost coughing my lungs out. But the way it made me feel was amazing – like I was in another world with no problems and a feeling of perfect bliss.

I remember going home that night and telling my brother that I had smoked a joint. He just laughed at me. The next day my mom gave me five dollars for lunch. But I really wanted to get high again, so I took the money and combined it with my friend’s money and we skipped class and smoked up behind the school.

In Grade 11 I joined the senior hockey team. Because I was a really good player all the Grade 13’s took a liking to me and invited me to their parties, which were all about beer and girls. I had my own close group of friends though and we all liked marijuana the best, but I was developing an alcohol problem as well. I started to get cravings for weed and alcohol every day.

I took a job at a gas station after school. It didn’t pay enough to pay for my bad habits so I started stealing from customers. If the customer wanted $20 worth of gas I would pump $15 worth and put the remaining five in my own pocket. I would keep doing this until I had $20, which was the minimum my dealer would sell me.

Bipolar Babe!

Part 2

Upon arriving in Ottawa, I connected with my political colleagues, made new friends and began to establish myself in a place I then called home. I loved Ottawa but suddenly things changed.

The story of ‘what happened to Andrea’ is long and personal but I have begun writing it in a book and sharing my story on my blog because it is so captivating and unreal. At times it is difficult to decipher what was ‘real’ and what was simply caused by my now diagnosed bipolar disorder. In Ottawa, things began to change and transform in such a way that I cannot even explain to this day. I plunged into a ‘psychosis’ and my reality became my own but still lapsed with this world. I saw things, heard things and the entire time believing that all that was happening around me was truly taking place. I started to have delusions and believe things that were not true and my mood was erratic ranging from hyper, talkative and extremely happy to pouring out with tears and fear. I willingly attended the psychiatric ward still not thinking anything was ‘wrong’, but my peaceful demeanour accepted my friends’ concern as genuine. I was admitted to the hospital and spent nearly one month, and as I complied with my medication regime I began to return to reality.

My story has heartbreak, fear, hope and even a point where I even gave up on life. I only truly had myself to rely on at that time in Ottawa, and with great survival skills and perseverance I crawled out of the gutter. To this day, I understand why a lot of people with a mental illness end up on the streets, and it can happen to anyone one of us.

I never felt completely ‘normal’ since that time. It was almost as if something had broken in me. I left to Korea for two years and returned to Canada, hopeful with two suitcases by my side. I left Canada angry and resentful, feeling everyone had turned their back on me. It was not until I decided to have a healthy lifestyle and seize responsibility for my health that I really began to feel at my best. In late 2007, I decided it was time to really live.

People are often shocked that I have a mental illness, like it is possible to pick us out in a crowd. I used to feel shameful and devastated, but with creating BIPOLAR BABE I have learned that there may be negative attitudes in the world, but the only one that I can control is my own. I share my personal story openly and freely to inspire the broken ones who feel there is nothing left for them after being hospitalized. I also want to share with the curious ones and create a world of acceptance and freedom where we can all just be ourselves.

In sharing my story I shed the stigma within myself and that will then translate into the rest of the world. I am blessed. I have my health, an excellent job, a funded education, amazing relationships with friends and family, a blossoming relationship and so much more…but after all of it I just have a story to tell. I am no different than anybody else for we all have a contribution. This is why I have created a BLOG , to keep the conversation going as I am interested in what you have to say and so is the rest of the world.

Much Love, Andrea AKA Bipolar Babe

Meet Bipolar Babe!

Part 1

"Hello, my name is Andrea. I am originally from a place called Sudbury, Ontario. Like all teenagers I was faced with some tough decisions-school, parents, alcohol and drugs, friends, and my future. My father did his very best but I was rebellious; however, I took it upon myself to call my mother and ask for a plane ticket to live with her in British Columbia. She graciously embraced me and my new life began to unfold in a small town called Campbell River. That is where I found my first love, then my second, made many amazing friends and enjoyed spending a lot of time on Quadra Island. I graduated from CARIHI Secondary in 1996, but unfortunately, my mother could not be there on that day as she was quite sick suffering from bipolar disorder. My whole life I did not understand my mother’s disorder. I only knew that under great times of stress she would often have to be hospitalized, which led to me leaving our home in grade 11 and I soon was on my own.

I went on to the University of Victoria and graduated in 2002. I loved living in Victoria and began my career in the government, and in my early twenties I began to truly grow and figure out what I wanted in life. I often felt restless, taking on challenge after challenge, never feeling completely satisfied. I involved myself in several things, my favourite being politics, but I won’t get into that as I may put you to sleep. I embraced the belief that my future lie ahead in Ottawa, Ontario and so I sold all my belongings, packed my little car and drove across Canada alone. It was amazing! I stared up at lilac Saskatchewan skies, took in the scenery and saw frozen lakes for the first time since I left Eastern Canada. I listened to hundreds of songs, if not thousands and after 5 days arrived in Sudbury, Ontario. This was my home town, not having been back for nearly 10 years. I visited all of my old schools, churches and homes; it was overwhelming how all the memories flooded over me."

Check back tomorrow for part two, in which Andrea shares her struggles with mental illness and her road to recovery.

Unlisted: A Story of Schizophrenia

Unlisted is scheduled for release to PBS stations in October 2010, coinciding with Mental Illness Awareness Week (MIAW).

For many years, physician and filmmaker Delaney Ruston was estranged from her father, Richard, a poet and novelist who struggled with schizophrenia and at times lived on the streets. Feeling helpless whenever he showed up at her door in psychotic states, she decided to become unlisted in the phone book.

Medical school taught Ruston about the science of mental illness, but not the actual experience of people living with it. She reached a turning point when her son started asking about his grandpa. Reconciliation followed—along with supportive housing and treatment for her father.

But Richard stopped taking his medicine and went missing. Reconciliation became a race for survival ending in tragedy

"My dad was a regular guy who wanted a career and family, but he was constantly stymied by his disordered thought process," Ruston said. "With the film, I want to give viewers background on why getting mental health treatment is so difficult. It doesn't have to be that way."

"America's mental health care system is in crisis, but many courageous people are fighting for hope and recovery," said NAMI Executive Director Michael J Fitzpatrick.

"Unlisted is a powerful film and a vehicle for education. The 2010 NAMI Convention is a platform to heighten public interest."

"We hope television critics and feature editors in the news media will take notice and seek more stories about individuals and families affected by serious mental illness. Beyond tragedy, there are many stories of hope and recovery."

Learn more about the film.

Jody Paterson: Taking aim at those unable to fight

Times Colonist columnist Jody Paterson

This is a really interesting article, written by Jody Patterson, discussing the lack of mental health funding in Vancouver and Canada as a whole.

The article continues to discuss the stigma often attached to mental illness and the misconceptions that arise due to the way mental illness is presented in the media, that those with mental illness are dangerous and out of control.


"Mental illness can't be "cured" in that nice, clean way that we prefer, like a broken leg or an ailing heart. Even diagnosing it can be tricky, and the results of treatment unpredictable.

It's stigmatized and poorly understood. It generates just enough scary media stories of unexpected violence to leave the public with the gross misconception that to be mentally ill is to be dangerous and out of control.

Mental illness knocks the wind out of the best of families in no time flat. Even friends and family members tend to take a step back when the diagnosis is mental illness, instead of stepping up to help the way they would have had the diagnosis been breast cancer or hip surgery.

So when cuts come, they hit a group of people who already feel ashamed, hopeless and unworthy. The axe falls, and nobody has the strength to scream."

Read full article here.


Do you think the media plays a part in attaching stigma to mental illness?

Who do you think is responsible for ensuring sufficient funding for mental health services?

A Selection of David Albert Newman's Prospect Paper Ideas

David Albert Newman, one of this year's Faces of Mental Illness, is currently working on his MBA. David is living with schizophrenia and credits his unique ideas for his Prospect Paper as being a factor product of creativity arising from mental illness, in his case schizophrenia.

David would like to share his Ideas to illustrate this creativity.

David's Ideas:
How do you think Galileo and Newton felt when they were shafted so badly on new ideas? Please review history. THE PURPOSE OF HUMANITY IS NEW IDEAS.

As a side note, I don't care what anyone says, I did find a fifth derivative vector space around a slight alteration of Pythagorean Theorem, and I have not just speculated, but theorized quite successfully that information travels faster than the speed of light. It has to do with light time delay in travel (lighting a dark road doesn't mean that there was no information there before you did it; that is same on Earth as in "outer space"). And light for that matter is present even at night not just by the moon reflection, but by the curvature of light around Earth mass.

True darkness is seeing at the speed of light and then controlling the very precise and delicate frame rate between dark-light. Thus, the light-dark shutter which gives rise to many instances of technology, most notably photography at the microscopic scale.

Here is an additional thought: how do you precisely travel at the speed of light IF you cannot first see at its rate? Would you not be blind and destroyed? Currently, there is no sight at the speed of light since our telescopes are light delayed. Thus, we see the eon past. Now, what happens if we alter our telescopes (or more precisely named, our macroscopes) to see at the speed of light and thus, view vast celestial bodies and space in real time?

And most interesting: why should we think that the outer edge of the Universe of a Universe expanding is "somewhere out there?" If the Universe is all around us while also beyond us, it is oscillating by mass stretching into space AND non-space contingent on the mass substance.

Finally, and most astute I think if not to be pompous: the force of gravity is merely space expanding into non-space. It is what holds space and non-space together. It is not some phantom force of mere attraction of objects to each other.

Mental Illness Attitudes Outdated

In the past, facilities such as the Provincial Lunatic Asylum and the Eastern Hospital for the Insane were built on the outskirts of cities, separate from other hospitals. Today, the Toronto Hospital and Brockville Mental Health Centre have become integrated parts of these two cities, with the Toronto Hospital undergoing a major remodel and the Brockville Mental Health Centre being integrated into Brockville General Hospital.

But this doesn't mean all opinions have changed. There is still little visitation in mental health wards and limited understanding of mental illness amoung the public. Reasons for this lack of understanding include a lack of information, but also a hesitance to accept mental illness.

In this article,Dr. David Goldbloom, professor of psychiatry at the University of Toronto and vice-chairman of the Mental Health Commission of Canada outlines the progress society has made in recognizing and treating mental illness in a matter similar to how one would recognize and treat a physical illness. He also illustrates how far society has left to go.


This article discusses the the need for society to work progressively towards reducing the stigma surrounding mental illness.

"It's the modern way to treat people. It's no different than treating people for a broken leg," says Dr. Brockville General Hospital president and CEO Ray Marshall, when referring to the integration of the Brockville Mental Health Centre into the Brockville General Hospital.

How do you fell about the integration of these two hospitals? Is this something you would like to see done in your own town?

Read full article here

OC87: a filmmaker's journey from mental illness to recovery

Check out this new documentary about a filmmaker's journey of mental illness and recovery called OC87: The Obsessive Compulsive, Major Depression, Bipolar, Asperger's Movie.

Go to the film's website to view the trailer


The documentary is being screened at Pennsylvania Mental Health Consumers' Association state conference today. Read more about the film and the PMHCA's actitivies here.

Let's Shout About Mental Illness

By Scott McKeen, Edmonton Journal June 14, 2010

This is for the man who claims a mild flu again today, to explain away his hangover.

This is for the woman who applies a smile in the morning mirror, to hide her depression.

This is for the children who shrink into themselves at school, to hide their constant anxiety.

Forever seeking normal is their daily, plodding ambition. If not to be normal, to at least look normal.


No surprise, given that even kindly Canadian culture doesn't broach the topic of mental illness. We hide it away in language and in euphemisms and talk about "mental health."

We tiptoe around mental illness. We certainly can't laugh about it. Words like "crazy" in a newspaper column are guaranteed to upset advocates of, uh, mental health.

I'm here today with a confession: I'm nuts. Well, that's not completely true. These days, I'm just a tad crazy.

I suffered for years with profound bouts of depression and anxiety. During above those years, I also did some, uh, self-prescribing to calm the storm.

I also married, helped raise three great children and rose in my career to the point where I now mock Harley 50 riders and politicians for a living. The point? I'm crazy, but not exactly weaving baskets.

But no, I don't want to be pitied or praised for my pain or recovery. What I've learned over the years is our greatest cultural secret: Abnormal is the real normal.

Read full article here.

Marie's vlog: Why eliminating stigma is important

2010 Face Marie Asuncion talks about the stigma surrounding mental illness, how it affects her life and recovery, and why it's important to break down the barriers of stigmatization. Enjoy!

New Faces of MIAW 2010: Marie Asuncion

Meet Marie, one of the Faces of Mental Illness Awareness Week.

Marie is a musician and English as a second language teacher from Toronto, Ontario.

Read Marie's story