A glass half full

Following a vacation out West, I wrote the following guest essay for our local newspaper in recognition of Mental Illness Awareness Week, Oct. 2-8. It’s titled “What mental illness took from us—and the gifts it gave.”

“If you could change one thing about your life,” I asked my husband, “what would it be?” 

Steve and I were vacationing out West when I asked this, climbing slowly upward to one of Utah’s geological wonders in Arches National Park. We’d paused to rest beneath a brilliant blue sky. Below stretched a cavernous valley carved over millions of years by wind and water. A perfect spot to reflect on life for two 70-plus year olds who’ve known each other for 50 years.

Steve paused briefly and said, “My mental illness. I’d change that. It was so hard on our family.” 

He’s right about it being hard on the family. Steve was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder in his early 40s when we had three young children at home. When he was in the acute stage of the illness, our family faced the many challenges associated with serious mental illness: changes in Steve’s behavior and thinking, a significant financial setback, shifting family dynamics, and the uncertainty and confusion associated with a deeply stigmatized illness. Through a combination of medications and years of therapy, Steve regained mental stability and has been in recovery for more than 20 years. 

As we walked on, we also talked about some of the positive changes our family experienced because of his illness: a closeness between us and among our children from having overcome those challenges, an enhanced awareness of how fragile life can be, greater empathy for all who face setbacks, increased vigilance of our physical and mental well-being, and an inner peace that comes from having prevailed. 

“We’ve been lucky in life” I said, also reminding him that because of his illness, others are more aware of the challenges people with mental illness face. After Steve illness was stable, I shared our journey in a memoir, “Rambler: A Family Pushes Through the Fog of Mental Illness.” Since it was published, we’ve talked to hundreds of people—from students to senior citizens, from faith leaders to first responders—letting them know that recovery is possible and there can be intangible benefits resulting from serious mental illness. 

Since Steve and I first faced his illness in the 1990s, people’s understanding of mental health and mental illness has come a long way. Through research scientists know more about how our brains work and have developed better treatment protocols and medications. But it is with personal stories that hearts are changed, for in talking openly about these illnesses we increase understanding and reduce stigma. 

Nearing the iconic arch at the end of our climb, I turned to Steve and said, “Life certainly didn’t go as planned, but, for the most part, I think we came out on top.” He nodded in agreement.