A thought about communication

One doesn't need to have commonalities with others to communicate, but when no commonalities are shared, communication can sometimes be a complicated enterprise, especially to those living with mental illness. Without commonalities, a bridge is neccessary, and both conversation participants must invest in that bridge in order to faciliate understanding. Unfortunately, the onus is usually on the mental health consumer to construct this bridge because we are taught (as people living with mental illness) that it is our job to adapt and/or assimilate to the "sane" - it is not their job to accomodate us unless it is obligatory (i.e. family, friends, mental health workers, case managers, psychologists, etc. etc. etc.) After all, as far as I can see, nobody is actively instructing the sane on how to develop a mental illness. Whether this perception is valid is the subject for another blog, but from my own experience, it is not really communication itself that is the problem, but rather knowing how to circumvent stigma. Therefore, planning conversations is essential - not with the intention of deceiving others, but in order to find the correct sequence or order by which to reveal sensitive information. In my younger years, I was often angry about the stigma my mental illness created and, as a result, I would overcompensate - reveal too much too quickly, alienate my audience, and when no viable bridge was constructed, I would console myself that they were in the wrong because they were obviously "prejudiced" against those living with mental illness. But as I grew older I began to take my time, strategize. I would reveal details about myself slowly and sparingly, until the time was right. Once a stable bridge had been constructed and terms adequately defined, there was almost never a problem with prejudice or stigma. As a result, I made more friends, developed more contacts, and had access to greater resources.

Introduction

Someone very close to me made the observation that everytime she felt truly happy and/or whole there was also a corresponding undercurrent of fear that would threaten to overtake her. Such is the dilemma for many people in recovery - it has been so long since we have felt healthly that when we do feel a sense of completeness, serenity, or tranquility, our first instinct is to hold onto it as long as humanly possible without thinking about the consequences, risks, or danger to ourselves or others. Because of this "all or nothing" mentality, fear is the inevitable result. Oddly enough, most people tend to think that it is this compulsion that is the hallmark (or perhaps a component)of mental illness, since, judging by behavior alone, it seems irrational. But the perceived irrationality of our actions is fueled primarily by the misconception that there is no intrinsic value in the feeling itself, which is a grave error. The actions of any individual, whether sane or insane, can only be considered rational or irrational when we have a clear picture of the stakes which are involved. The more precious the commodity, the more we invest ourselves in its protection. Therefore, a mother might walk to the ends of the earth to save her child if she thought it was in mortal danger. A patriot might very well give up his life for his country if he felt there was a legitimate threat. A desperate businessman, facing an indictment on embezzlement charges, might attempt to cover up the crime rather than go to prison. These examples are easily understood because everyone understands how most mothers value their children, or the true patriot values his country, or most human beings value their freedom. Therefore, if you see someone in the throes of healing acting out, remember to remind yourself that they are trying to preserve what is most valuable to them - namely, their mental health.