Mrs. United States Educates America

Mrs. United States 2008 will dedicate her reign to raising public awareness about mental illness.

by Gariane Phillips Gunter, M.D.

In my day-to-day life, I am called by several different names and titles.

My husband calls me “Baby.” Our two-year old daughter Isabella calls me “Mommy.” My patients call me “Doctor.” My Sunday school students call me “Miss Gariane.” And now I have the incredible honor of being “Mrs. United States.”

So what do I call myself? Without hesitation, “Blessed,” and I thank God for the gift of life He gives me each day.

As a Wife I fight laundry and as a Mom, I fight naps! As a Psychiatrist, I am fighting daily to eliminate the negative stigma of mental illness that plagues my patients and their families.

Representing South Carolina, and now this great country, has given me an invaluable opportunity to speak out across the nation for those affected by mental illness and to be an advocate for deserving people who often times cannot fight for themselves.

I am always amazed and heartbroken to hear the stories of our neighbors, friends and family who not only are struggling with their illness but also the stereotypes associated with them.

The message I am spreading is one of compassion and hope. I feel strongly that providing the truth about mental illness will chip away at the wall of stigma that has prevailed for way too long.

I am working with other advocates across my home state of South Carolina to institute NAMI’s program “Breaking The Silence: Teaching The Next Generation About Mental Illness” into our schools. Teaching our children that mental illness is a physical illness affecting the brain and making them aware of potential signs and symptoms will help replace stigma with compassion and encourage them to reach out for help if they should ever need it.

We are winning the fight against stigma and the future of mental health is getting brighter each day.

I am so excited and honored to be a part of this incredible journey and would love for you to join me!

Read more about Dr. Gunter's education campaign.

NAMI on PBS and MTV

by Mike Fitzpatrick, Executive Director, NAMI

As we prepare for the NAMI 2008 annual convention in Orlando, I am excited to report that two television projects that NAMI has been long involved with premiered last week.

The PBS documentary DEPRESSION: Out of the Shadows revealed the complexity of depression through personal stories of individuals and families affected by this disease, as well as information on innovative research and treatments.

Following the documentary, NAMI’s medical director, Ken Duckworth, M.D., joined a panel of experts moderated by broadcast journalist Jane Pauley. At convention, she will receive NAMI’s annual Ken and Rona Purdy Award for her contribution in the fight against stigma and discrimination.

MTV also profiled one of our members, Amber Main of NAMI Virginia, in "True Life: I Have Schizophrenia," part of the award-winning documentary series that explores issues affecting young people.

Viewers followed the compelling stories of Amber and two other young adults as they faced their challenges of living with mental illness: returning to college, risks of self-medicating and the fear of relapse.

Dr. Duckworth has answered questions on the show’s production blog and will continue to answer questions this week.

Both TV programs offer great insight into what it is really like to live with mental illness.

In June, people from across the country will meet in Orlando to share our own stories and to work towards making recovery real for all people.

We hope to see you there!

Mental Health Parity

by Mike Fitzpatrick, Executive Director, NAMI

In my last entry, I wrote about my hope for passage of the mental health insurance parity bill S 558, which the Senate passed unanimously in September.

I am very pleased to report that the House of Representatives has now passed its own parity bill (HR 1424) by a vote of 268 to 148.

Both bills require group health insurance plans to cover mental illness and substance abuse disorders on the same terms and conditions as other illnesses—with respect to the number of doctor visits, hospital stays, co-payments and other provisions.

We know that untreated mental illness costs American businesses, government and families more than $80 billion annually in lost productivity and unemployment.

We know that untreated mental illness can be devastating to individuals and families, and too often results in premature death or permanent disability.

But we also know that treatment for mental illness works—if you can get it.

There is strong support for parity, but there are important differences between the bills that must be resolved and we expect difficult negotiations.

For nearly 20 years, NAMI has been dedicated to equitable coverage of mental illness treatment. Congress has an historic opportunity to finally pass this important legislation and end insurance discrimination faced by people living with serious mental illness and their families.

The time is now to come to an agreement that can get through the House and the Senate and be signed by President Bush in 2008. We cannot wait any longer.

Turning into the Sun

by: Anna Pearce, known as actress Patty Duke, is the author of Call Me Anna and A Brilliant Madness, and has served as a NAMI spokesperson.

When I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in 1982, my immediate response was, “Thank God it has a name—and a treatment!” Within 10 seconds, it was like turning into the sun from a very dark pit.

Was there some self-consciousness about being a person with mental illness? Yes, but it was short-lived. About six months after my diagnosis, I was on medication, feeling balanced, and I realized that I had an opportunity.

As an actress, what I enjoy most is pretending, connecting with the child in me. In the theatre, I love hearing the energy come back from the dark. That’s the most fun, connecting with people. Television and film are other mystical worlds for me, as I have to translate with my eyes.

Playing Helen Keller in “The Miracle Worker” was a kid’s dream—I got to beat up an adult and people laughed. Acting in that role was when I first began to understand what it meant to transcend connection with another actor. Between actress Anne Bancroft, who played Annie Sullivan, and I, the biggest miracle was us together.

Portraying Helen exposed me to different stigmas in society. The power of the stories of Helen and Annie’s lives became infused in me at such a vulnerable age. Helen has been an example my whole life. I was involved with causes for the blind, for instance, but because my illness is so immediate to me, I was compelled to focus on advocacy for others with mental illness.

I knew that I had a certain amount of celebrity, a certain amount of access to the press. I could go public and reach people. Like Patrick Kennedy, this drive comes from a pure place.

Both writing Call Me Anna, my autobiography, and acting in the television version were difficult experiences, but I just wanted to get the word out about mental illness.

Almost 26 years later, I know that this is my calling in life.

If you know something this good, you have a moral obligation to share it.

At first I thought, If I can reach one person, that will be enough. I’ve learned that was a big, bold lie.

I want everyone!

There is no reason for anyone to suffer without treatment. I know that so many of our social ills come from a mental illness of one form or another.

I can hope pretty deep. I hope that people who are suffering will find that there is a process that will stop the suffering.

I was recently appointed to the Center for Mental Health Services National Advisory Council and I know there are truly wonderful mental health facilities out there. We need to build a stronger network.

When I speak to audiences, there’s part of me that wants to run. I focus on the people when I’m speaking…everything from that point on is easy. Floodgates open, we compare notes.

Maybe I’ll say something that resonates. I always walk away feeling that I’ve been refueled.

This is the closest I’ve come to understanding communion.

To those who have been recently diagnosed or discouraged by stigma, I say, “Welcome! You’re on the path. This may not be what you want your recovery to be yet, but it will be.”

I'll Be Home for Christmas

by Mike Fitzpatrick, Executive Director, NAMI

During World War II, Americans hoped that troops would be "home by Christmas." No matter what a person’s position is today on the war in Iraq and Afghanistan, we know that once soldiers do return home, they unfortunately often face a second war against mental illness. Earlier this year, a Pentagon task force reported that 40 percent of soldiers returning home from combat face “daunting and growing” mental health problems. In 2007, the total number of veterans with mental illness seeking help from the Department of Veterans Affairs increased almost 60%. A study released in July of 2007 indicated that male veterans in the general U.S. population are twice as likely as their civilian peers to die by suicide. This is one reason why NAMI recently launched its online Veterans Resource Center.

One of the enemies in the war against mental illness is stigma and discrimination, which is a barrier to people getting treatment when they need it most. The Pentagon task force acknowledged that “Stigma in the military remains pervasive and often prevents service members from seeking needed care” and made elimination of stigma one of its goals. Later this month, the federal government’s Resource Center to Address Discrimination & Stigma Associated with Mental Illness (ADS Center) also will sponsor “Reducing Stigma for American Soldiers,” as part of its regular series of free teleconferences for the general public.

But stigma dies hard. The Washington Post recently reported the case of 1st Lt. Elizabeth Whiteside, in which the Army has considered possible court-martial for the “crime” of mental illness. NAMI raised a protest with the Secretary of the Army, likening the case to General George Patton’s slapping of a “shell-shocked” soldier during World War II. An Army hearing officer has agreed, but a final decision is still pending as I write. For NAMI, the case reflects a systemic lack of understanding about mental illness, as well as discrimination against families of soldiers who are being treated for mental illness in Army hospitals. Unlike the families of soldiers with physical injuries, they are denied free lodging to support recovery.

We are encouraging NAMI members to send Christmas cards to the Secretary, asking for a change in the Army's policy, as well as education about mental illness at all command levels. But that’s not to single out the Army. Stigma and discrimination exists throughout society. For all of us at NAMI, the story of someone falling through the cracks and not getting the mental health treatment they obviously needed is all too on.

As Congress moves toward recess for the holidays, we are still awaiting action to pass the mental health insurance parity bill, S. 558. Passage would be a wonderful Christmas present for us all, so that the bill can be sent to the President. Let's see what the New Year brings.

CANVAS Fights Stigma

by Joe Pantoliano, actor

NAMI’s support has been important to the film CANVAS, and I am proud to be part of the NAMI family.

During my journey through life, I have often been attracted as an actor to roles where characters exhibit mental disorders. I am unsure whether this has been an unwitting occurrence, whether it is the product of happenstance, typecasting or subconscious decision.

The first paying job I ever received, my first Actors Equity role, was in 1972 as the character Billy Bibbitt in a touring production of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. In 1979, I played Private Maggio in the TV mini-series From Here to Eternity, the role played by Frank Sinatra in the movie. Dig deep into Maggio and he has bipolar disorder, and then there’s what boxing does to his brain. Two times, I’ve visited state mental hospitals to prepare for roles.

When I choose to play a role, I’m first attracted to the whole story. Then the characters; not just my own, but all of them; how they relate to each other; with me usually being right in the middle of them. I like colorful characters. How I play a character may depend on how one behavior influences other behaviors. They flow. They’re in motion. I have to arrive at knowing who I am and what I want.

So here I am 35 years later starring as the father, John Marino, in CANVAS, the story of a family’s struggle with schizophrenia. It is a different kind of role for me. I’m not a wise-guy or a rogue. As an actor, I always reveal different sides of myself, but like most actors I’m a victim of my casting opportunities. We don’t always get the roles we want. I like some more than others. It’s like any other line of work. We don’t get to do only the things we love to do. That’s life.

In CANVAS, John Marino shows my sensitive side. I’m a lot like him; he’s a lot like me. What’s funny is that an 11-year-old friend of mine saw an early screening of CANVAS this summer and immediately asked my daughter: “Why can't Joey be that nice in real life?!”

Making the movie has been part of a personal journey in coming to understand mental illness. That has included coming to understand myself –and my own struggle with clinical depression. One part of us influences all the other parts, but sometimes people aren’t even aware that they are depressed, let alone understand depression and what can be done about it.

As I became more knowledgeable about mental illnesses, their symptoms, diagnosis and treatment, I am convinced that my mother, who died 25 years ago, spent her adult life living with bipolar disorder.

Had it been a recognized illness, one without tragic social, economic, physical consequences, and one with accurate diagnosis and attainable treatments, I am convinced that events throughout my childhood, which tore our family apart, would never have occurred. My mom would have lived out a much happier and healthier life.

I hope CANVAS touches people.

One goal is to educate people about the wonderful possibilities that exist if we can break down the barriers that hold us back. When we treat people with mental illnesses differently, we stigmatize them.

Another goal is to empower people with mental illnesses to admit the illness, seek treatment, and be recognized and welcomed as contributing members of society. We have to obliterate stigma.

That’s why I gave People magazine an exclusive interview this month to talk about my own battle with depression. I’m in my 50s. I’ve made my career. I can speak out. A lot us can—more than we ever realize.

It doesn’t stop with CANVAS. I recently formed the “No Kidding, Me Too” Coalition as a vehicle for people in the entertainment industry and others to support the fight against stigma. One in five Americans are affected by mental illness. It shouldn’t be a deep, dark family secret. When one person tells someone else about mental illness and its effect on them or their family, the response often surprises them.

“No kidding, me too.”

Let’s not be ashamed. We’re all part of the same human family. We all have talent. We all have something to give.

Living and writing with bipolar disorder

by Dia Calhoun, author

Mike Fitzpatrick is away on vacation, but we are pleased to have guest blogger, author Dia Calhoun, share her story about living with bipolar disorder. Dia is the winner of the Mythopoeic Fantasy Award for Children’s Literature, and the author of six books for children ages 8-16: Firegold, Aria of the Sea, White Midnight, The Phoenix Dance, Avielle of Rhia, and The Return of Light: A Christmas Tale. She lives in Tacoma, Washington.

As an author living with bipolar illness who writes for teens, I am very concerned about mental health issues for teens. My story begins eleven years ago, when, after many trials of medication and therapy, I was finally diagnosed with Bipolar Two Disorder. My doctor traced the illness back to when I was a teen. A light bulb flashed. Why not might write a novel for teens about being bipolar? But I feared for my privacy. I wanted to keep my illness secret, wary of the stigma surrounding bipolar illness. I was not ready to tell my story, nor did I know quite how to tell it.

Years passed while I wrote other books—and kept my secret from all but family members and a few close friends. Then one day I read the Grimm’s fairy tale of The Twelve Dancing Princesses. In this tale, twelve princesses wear out their shoes each night and no one knows why. Mysterious princes whisk them across an underground sea to a palace where they dance the night away. I put the book down, picked it back up. What, I thought? What is calling me? I didn’t know.

I kept thinking about the story. Then one night, in spite of medication, an episode of my illness struck. Imagine yourself spinning on a stool, huddled, legs tucked up, spinning faster and faster, dizzy, sick. Sometimes when I am hypomanic—I have bursts of fiery creative energy. And as I spun and spun that night, thoughts racing and racing like fists pummeling my brain, the princesses popped into my mind. I saw them dancing in their gorgeous dresses, but dancing wildly, on fire, all night long. Like me. Dancing deep in their subterranean sea. Like me. Then I knew. The princesses were manic. Like me. That interpretation of the fairy tale was what had been calling me.

But the princesses were ill because they were under a spell. I needed a girl who had bipolar illness because she was physically ill. And that is when fourteen-year-old Phoenix Dance, apprentice to the princesses’s shoemaker, leaped on to the page. I first saw her, an artist, when she was deep in the clutches of hypomania, frantically drawing shoes, pinning sketch after sketch onto the wall. (I was a graphic artist for many years before I was diagnosed, and had hypomanic episodes where I would draw hundreds of sketches, just like Phoenix.) Phoenix swings between the Kingdom of Darkness (depression) and the Kingdom of Brilliance (mania). Over the course of the book, as she solves the princesses’s mystery, she comes to terms with her condition and treatment, as I, too, have had to do.

When I finished the book, called The Phoenix Dance, I had an epiphany. Wouldn’t the book do more good in the world if I revealed that it was based on my own experience with bipolar illness? Wasn’t it time to share my secret in order to help others? After much soul-searching, I decided to write an afterward to the novel where I disclosed my own bipolar illness.

I am so glad I found the courage to break my silence! Not only was it personally liberating, but also so many people have said the book helped them to understand bipolar disorder better. Bipolar kids have told me my struggle to live a productive life as a writer has given them hope for their own tumultuous lives. After an author presentation I made at a school, a teen girl came up and said she felt moved to come forward with a secret of her own.

I hope the book, and my personal experience, will inspire kids and adults to come forward with their own stories about bipolar illness, to write them, to speak them, and most of all, to share them. Together we can shine a light onto this difficult illness and give the world a better understanding of our struggles and triumphs, both ours and those of people we love.

You can learn more about Dia at www.diacalhoun.com