A-Slam- The Quiet Room, A Powerful Hip-Hop Musical Interpretation of Lori Schiller's Book The Quiet Room

A Schizophrenic Will: A Story of Madness, A Story of Hope

How Digital Addiction Affects Americans' Mental Health

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xX32ke-JNfY

Adapting Ancient Techniques to Help Cope With Mental Illness

By Jenna Ritter, Founder and Senior Teacher at DHARA

Yoga for Mental Wellness

We are fortunate that Yoga has become mainstream. Contrary to popular belief, Yoga is actually about healing more than it is about exercise. Yoga is one of many alternative modalities that offer a very real and cost effective solution to current health care needs. Yoga inspires a ripple effect of health that starts within each of us. The sign of a healthy Yoga practice is when the practitioner experiences a sense of flow and harmony. When there is flow and harmony inwardly the conditions necessary to cultivate a healthier, more positive relationship with the self and others are created and supported outwardly, and vice versa. With practice over time the Yoga student’s life gets better, then their interactions with other people get better, and, as result, society gets better. At its central core, then, Yoga is a cultivated lifestyle rooted in relationship.

In itself mental illness can be very isolating. On top of this, the restraints of stigma can keep individuals hidden creating a container of fear, anxiety, depression and anger to stew. Learning how to apply effective and practical techniques to break out of isolation and move into various degrees of relationship is highly desirable. Today there is an abundance of information available on alternative treatments. When one becomes interested in exploring something like Yoga it is easy to become overwhelmed and confused. For special needs populations navigating this terrain can be even more challenging. In efforts to clarify and keep things simple I have developed my work through my nonprofit project DHARA. DHARA accesses and teaches foundational elements essential to a healthy and safe Yoga healing practice. Classes nurture sustainable empowerment within a safe environment for those living in highly stressful, chaotic, and uncomfortable life situations.

I have been studying Yoga for 12 years, teaching for 8 years. As part of my personal healing and training I lived in India and China studying with master teachers. Before Yoga, I was an early childhood special education teacher very interested in inclusion models of education that highlighted resiliency and empowerment. Reflecting on my journey and integrating my knowledge, I have come to understand Yoga to be about accessing and working with prana or qi, the vital life force energy which is in each one of us. It is my personal experience that the body has an innate wisdom to heal itself when we learn to work with it. Yoga enables serious students to come out of their shell, to realize the gift that they are, and to offer that to the world effortlessly.

Knowing that some Yoga can be unsafe and actually harmful, I utilize my special education background and unique training experiences to develop curricula that provides clear foundational practices—something like the “ABC’s” of Yoga healing—to support people in their recovery and reintegration. The breath is central to a good Yoga practice: the breath provides an indicator as to our mood at any given time, as well as is an effective vehicle to begin the shift into a more desired state of mind. In my classes I teach practical and effective ways to build inner strength through using easy to apply tools of breath and gentle movement. With practice over time a greater harmony and joy in life is experienced. As students begin to fall into a rhythm with their practice I see them begin to return to the rhythm of their lives. Students begin to more easily show up for themselves and each other in a way that wasn’t possible before attending classes. Students emerge more centered, grounded and whole. There is a new enthusiasm—a joy—that simply is. I suspect with continued practice the ripples of these effects will impact the larger communities around us all.

Note: Jenna Ritter, Founder & Senior Teacher at DHARA, teaches low-income adults living with various emotional and mental health issues self-healing through ancient Indian and Chinese lifestyle systems adapted to modern-day living situations. Programs and trainings are also available for service providers www.dharanyc.org. Contact jenna@dharanyc.org for more information on classes and special workshop offerings.

  

Ward Stories - Winter 2013

A column organized by Dan Frey, Interim Poetry Editor

This edition of Ward Stories features poetry from a couple of sources. We feature Claudia Krizay, who sent us a number of poems and images of her art via email. We include her potent poem on the experience of the ECT (electro-convulsive therapy) patient with an image of her art titled “Scared.” We also include an untitled piece by Stefanie Tomasello, an adventure in visual art that will make you want to take up the craft yourself. You can read Stefanie’s personal story in this edition.

ECT

By Claudia Krizay

In this moment I feel as if I am falling,

Into a prison from nowhere,

I see my shadow arabesque as

I watch my reflection appear

In a river of never abating madness

Hiding from all that is real,

Moments have passed since I lay upon

A cold metal table,

Drifting off to sleep, and

Upon awakening

I remember nothing, except for

The sensation of falling

From nowhere into nothingness

As I watch the sun rising,

Outside of a picture window,

I find myself alive in some different place in time.

I feel my heart pounding

As if it were trying to escape

From a prison of iron bars inside of my chest, as

My brain spins about

As if it were riding a horse on a merry-go-round,

It’s motor somehow

Rapidly accelerating

As that horse bobs up and down

Exacerbating my fear

I hear myself screaming

In the midst of deadly silence

The sun has now risen high over the mountains outside.

Within my utmost fantasies,

I am climbing my own mountain,

Hoping to reach the sky although

I cannot escape that merry-go-round of terror

Except that I know now

I cannot hide from all that is real,

I shall never touch the sky and as

I find myself falling off of this make believe mountain

I can see my shadow more clearly and

As I fall into a river of my fantasies,

I swim to the bank of this river from nowhere,

Leaving the madness behind

Untitled

By Stefanie Tomasello

She layered her soul, ultimately not knowing who she was

She clings to strength, ultimately surprised by her words and cause.

She looked with her eyes,

Kindly imaginative and vital for her confidence,

She’s always questioning her riveting life dance.

She charcoaled her way back to her soul, in a place as sour as a persevered, odd trance.

She continued to electrically get everything off her chest and stood for something more than what she knew. Colored her way through life with a colored pencil or two;

Sharpened shavings piled up, She digs deep to have the charcoaled black scent imbedded on her hands. Hoping the left-over color will seep through the pages of her mind on pads. She thickens the movement of her pencil through the gliding of her positioned fingertips; reserved only for the tearful, colorful misfits sips, always teaching herself never to ignore the extraordinary use of playful sharpened tips, almost like a whip of courage from the inner strength of her plentiful spirits kept down below in her soul slowly embracing life as a departure for a new world as a new cherished and vagrant whole.

Wrestling with Myself, Alcohol and Mental Illness

By Tom Palmer

My parents were always there to support me

There have been a few strong influences on my life: alcohol, mental illness, and the sport of wrestling. For a while, the sport of wrestling was good to me. Several times I got to pin a guy in front of the whole school. Many of my matches were executions. However, when I was fifteen I started feeling an intense, paralyzing fear in all social situations. It was agoraphobia with a vengeance. My sophomore year in high school was my last winning season.

I started to crave alcohol because it stilled the intense fear I felt around people. Alcohol allowed me to have fun at parties. It made me feel good. Before I got put on anti-psychotic medication, drinking a few beers had an almost narcotic effect on me. Alcohol is still a problem for me many decades later.

When I was eighteen, I shocked and dismayed my family by joining the army. I was a national Merit Scholarship finalist, and thus my family had a different vision for my future. Most of my friends were surprised when I joined the army, too.

Lately, I have realized how fear-based most of my life has been. When I was young, I had the same fear of monsters and the dark that most children have. I never really outgrew it. Even during my best years, I was very scared at night. I was afraid the devil was outside my window ready to come in and possess me. The movie "The Exorcist" had a strong negative effect on me.

I can’t tell an exact time to pinpoint as the beginning of my mental illness. The intense agoraphobia that started when I was fifteen was pretty pathological. Then, when I was at the University of Oklahoma, I started to think people could see through the door to my room. I would listen to them talk outside of my door, certain that they were talking about me. At the age of twenty-eight my parents decided that I needed to be admitted to the Timberlawn Mental Health System, in Dallas, Texas.

I've never been an autonomous, functioning adult. I've always been overwhelmed by the ordinary demands of life. I got out of the army with an honorable discharge, but just barely. After serving four years in the army, I got out with the rank of private E-1. I got a Bachelor’s degree at the University of Oklahoma, but it was only made possible because of extensive emotional and financial support by my parents.

All told, I would guess that I have been hospitalized for mental illness about twenty-five times. For the past ten years, I have lived in an assisted living center for the mentally ill. I have been living about as comfortably as I can with my mental illness. I don’t know what would happen if I didn't have the support I have. I guess I might be living on the streets and eating out of garbage cans.

I can remember sitting in my pathological psychology class at University of Oklahoma listening to the professor talk about the symptoms of various mental illnesses. I would think, "This applies to me...that applies to me...etc." I believe that I have three or four personality disorders along with my schizoaffective disorder.

However, I am grateful for the support I have. Of course, some things could be better, but that has always been the case, no matter what.

Happiness At Last

By Stefanie Tomasello

Finding a doctor who listens and the right combination of medicines makes all the difference

I’m bi-polar and stumped; I'm stumped today with what I have to share. What does one with bi-polar even say? My story includes the dramatic highs and lows of the illness, as well as the pestering urge to slit my wrists when I am being emotionally abused. I had asked myself: “When does it get good again?” I remember two summers ago at nightfall, sitting by the pool on a ledge, having a cigarette, just plotting my suicide and precisely how I was going to do it. I didn't really want to kill myself, because somewhere deep down, just waiting to get out, was happiness.

As a teenager, I was on Zoloft and anti-anxiety medication, and I held a job throughout my teens and twenties with a vibrant smile on my face. Nothing could hold me back. It was in my late twenties that I noticed that I had I started to become very manic. My moods were up and down and I was crying all the time. My depression and work pressures had taken a toll on me. I was burnt out and I desperately needed the right medication. The doctors put me on all different kinds of medications that didn't work; and the worst part was that none of them listened to a word I had to say. It was very stressful with all the side effects that I experienced from the medications. It was especially hard having my family see this roller coaster of my illness.

My father has schizophrenia and unfortunately went to prison for murder of another family member. I could not deal with this. It was far too much for a girl like me to handle. I received no support concerning the incident, so I had to learn to survive on my own. This was very hard considering the pressures of being bi-polar as well as there being a death in the family. Later on, I went back to my father’s apartment, lit a candle and said a prayer. I needed closure and I think that this was one thing that I could do for my family member. Just thinking about her, I remembered her smile and the way she always laughed, big and loud. It fit her and her laugh made me happy.

I was hospitalized four times for my illness and due to not being on the right medications. Nothing seemed to work for me. A year ago, I was talking about my father with my counselor and it opened a floodgate of emotion. I was in the state of mind in which I believed that any man would hurt me, rape me or kill me. This led to me thinking about my father; I was very paranoid, thinking there was serious harm coming my way. So I went into the hospital and right away the doctors put me on Ativan which worked wonders, because my anxiety had skyrocketed. It had been spiraling out of control, like a enchanted spider web woven of silk thread. I stayed in the hospital for a week and they also put me on Haldol. A new diagnosis was revealed and I was considered to be bi-polar with hints of schizophrenia. I was able to accept this new diagnosis.

I finally found a new doctor who was heaven-sent for me. I have been with her for the past two years and I’m doing beautifully. I told her right away to put me on Zoloft because I was so depressed and the bi-polar medication was not enough. I needed something else; the combination of medications just didn't feel right to me. So the doctor put me on Zoloft and added Seroquel for my highs and lows which worked wonders. I noticed a huge difference. I had been aware of my highs and lows, and by letting my doctor know, the result was no less than a miracle. She upped the Seroquel a bit and I have been more balanced than I have ever been in my life. I was also put on Haldol which I felt in awe of, from the improvements I experienced. It felt like sunset at nightfall, or a like a colorful rainbow on a gloomy, misty and cloudy day. It just works for me. I haven't relapsed yet and I get a shot of Haldol each month now. The only side effect I experience now is tremors but that’s why I take Cogentin.

I recently began receiving social security; but to tell you the truth I love it! I get to do things that I never did in my teens because of working so much. Now I can sit in a cafe with a good cup of coffee and just enjoy reading a novel with the sun streaming in. I’ve never felt this great before in my life! I'm more creative; painting and writing, reading and getting out more. I'm so blessed. See, I knew there was happiness just waiting to get out – I think it was just waiting for the perfect time. At first it was a lot of work, but happiness gets easier and you learn to love being happy, and re-learn how to love yourself and not to feel sad all the time. It’s not perfect but it gets better and you can be happy. I think we all want to be happy. Like I said happiness just waits for the perfect time to come out. I'm happy, one day at a time, and I hope you, too, can be happy one day at a time.