Recovery Tool: Yoga

yoga tree poseWhen I first got sick around age 22, I had already been practicing yoga for a couple of years.  I had been experiencing some depression in college from the overwhelming amount of stress that I was under.  A friend of mine who had been taking yoga classes at the local gym suggested that I try it.  I remember after leaving my first class that my mood had lifted.  It was amazing.  From that moment on I was hooked, and I came to realize that yoga is a powerful tool for transformation, which proved very helpful to me in coping with and ultimately recovering from mental illness.

The practice of yoga and awareness-based meditation is all about presence, balance, strength, possibility, and moving through struggle into freedom.  Not only does it ingrain these principles into the physical body, but the mind as well.  It can be incredibly cleansing for the whole being, and allows for the release of stored emotions.  When I first started getting sick, and my mind became unstable and detached from reality, the practice of yoga and meditation helped bring me back to my center.  Even amidst the psychosis, I would be meditating to let go of the crazy thoughts I was having so that I could come back to being present in my body and in this moment.  This also helped to allow me to release certain thoughts that didn’t serve me.

Yoga, as well as other awareness-based forms of exercise, such as Tai Chi, or even martial arts, can be powerful tools for training our mind and body.  Through consistent practice, we develop healthy conditioning that carries over into other areas of our lives, and contributes to us leading a more balanced and healthy lifestyle.  Now, I know more than most how difficult it can be to maintain a regular practice while being sick.  The key is to just do a little bit when you can, and be extra forgiving of yourself.  If the practice resonates for you, and has meaning for you, it will stay with you.  During periods when you are practicing, just keep the momentum going.  Then, if there are times that you stray from it, just know that you can come back to it when the time is right.  Happy practicing!

Letting go of Limitations

believeThere was a time, early on when I was in the beginnings of my illness, that people told me that I may have to lower my expectations for myself.  Mental healthcare workers, even family members, thought that I would be limited by my illness and would not be able to achieve what I would have been able to had I not gotten ill.  I remember my counselor treating me as if I was not as capable as other people, as if she did not really believe that I would recover from schizoaffective disorder.

This lack of faith and lack of belief in recovery that some people in the mental health world share is unfortunate in my eyes.  Our beliefs affect our reality, and if we believe we will fail then we are more likely to.  Likewise, if we believe that we will heal, then I believe we are more likely to as well.  Belief is only the beginning, however, as we must take action.  The tricky part is that many of our limiting beliefs inhibit us from taking action.  I know that I have fallen into the trap of using my illness as a crutch many times.  I would start feeling sorry for myself or thinking that I would never get better.  Or I would start thinking that I would have to settle in my life.  This is a dangerous trap to let yourself fall into.  I think it was Henry David Thoreau who said “most men live lives of quiet desperation.”  I did not and do not want this to be me.

The thing is, mental illness is not a crutch.  It is not an excuse to be less than you are meant to be.  Yes, my life looks very different now than it would have had I not gotten sick, but that doesn’t mean it is better or worse.  I think I’m a much better person now as a result of my experiences with mental illness.  I was a pretty narrow-minded kid, and I am much more humble and compassionate now as a result of what I have been through.  It has done so much to mold my character.  Yes, from a linear point of view, I was on disability for eight years, and I may be “behind” in my finances, but from a spiritual point of view, we all take our own windy roads to learn the lessons that we need to learn in this life.  And to me, the spiritual lessons are more important than the material possessions anyway.

So, mental illness or not, we are no different than anybody else in the sense that we are responsible for our own lives.  We must hold ourselves accountable for our reactions to our experiences.  We may not choose all of our circumstances, but we can choose to make the best of them, to learn from them, and to move forward in a positive way.  And we can choose not to limit ourselves or put ourselves in a box based on a diagnosis.  We are all meant for great things, even in small ways, and if we do just a little to bring out the goodness inside of us, then the world is a better place because of it.

The Question of Medication

misty skyThis is a difficult topic for me as I have mixed feelings about psychotropic medication.  I am a huge proponent of natural health and holistic healing, and I like to take a more integrative approach to health.  While I tend to lean more towards the Eastern or Holistic model, I do recognize the need for Western Medicine.  Modern medicine is great for emergency care, or acute care, but in terms of long-term health, it really knows little about it.  It does little to address the cause of illness, but mainly treats the symptoms.  The fact is, the absence of symptoms is not the best criteria for health.  True health is feeling vibrant and alive, passionate and fulfilled.

So how does this relate to mental illness, specifically schizoaffective disorder?  Western medicine would say that the cause is unclear, being partly genetic, biochemical, and environmental.  It would also say that schizoaffective has no cure.  I find it hard to believe that my illness has no known cause or cure, but the more important question to me is, how do I approach recovery and healing?  A person’s model of health will affect one’s choices in recovery.  For example, for a long time (and still to this day) I resisted being on medication.  But I cannot deny that an integrative approach to healing has proven the most successful for me.

While I strongly dislike being on medication, I am grateful for them.  My girlfriend says she wants to kiss my meds, for all the good they have done for me.  It is true that over the past ten years, while I am on the right meds, my life begins to slowly improve.  The two times that I went off of my medication I had major relapses that landed me in the hospital and required months or years of recovery.  So I recognize that the medications are keeping my symptoms at bay, but are they helping me to live to my full potential?

In my case, I feel dulled down from the medication, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.  I feel like I am being limited in some way.  But at the same time, mental illness can be limiting.  When I was in the thick of it, some people told me that I would have to lower my expectations for myself.  That’s not easy to accept.  I don’t really have an answer to these questions, but I do know in my heart that I want to be the best that I can be in my life.  I want to be fulfilled.  I don’t want to feel like I am half-alive or half-awake every day of my life.  I want to be able to pursue my passions.  While I have accepted that there is a place for medication in my recovery process, I am not convinced that I have to be on them for the rest of my life.  I believe that healing is possible.

Stigma

OceanThis past week I was hospitalized for an irregular heartbeat, which I’ll take any day over an inpatient psych stay.  I noticed two distinct reactions from my family and friends that stood out to me.  The first was genuine concern, and the second was almost like “here we go again.”  Both reactions served to illustrate stigma around mental illness.

The first reaction, that of genuine concern, was surprising to me.  One particular person, who never asked how I was doing during my 10 or so inpatient psych stays, got on the phone and asked how I was and told me to take it easy.  I already knew that this person didn’t really respect mental illness as a real thing, but seemed to think it involved laziness, weakness, or character flaws of the individual.  But to see the stark contrast between the response I got for a mental condition, and the response I got for a physical condition, was shocking.  I don’t blame this person, as many people do not understand mental illness.  I myself didn’t really understand it for a long time, even while suffering from it.  Some people believe that you can just think your way out of it, or push through it.  They don’t realize that mental illness is not “in your head.”  It is a brain disorder that is as real as any physical condition.  Try telling a diabetic to think his or her blood sugar down.  That’s not to say that taking certain actions in one’s life will not help to manage or even heal an illness.  I am only saying that the illness is a real thing.

The second type of reaction that I got from people was as if I was the cause of my irregular heartbeat.  It was like “here we go again,” Joshua’s not dependable at work, he’s being hospitalized again.  This was a more subtle reaction, but I noticed that some people didn’t take my physical condition seriously.  Maybe they were fed up with my problems, or maybe they were just used to me being hospitalized, but whatever it was, I felt as if the blame were on me.  It was as if the stigma around mental illness were being generalized to other areas of my life.

These two distinct reactions that I noticed from certain members of my family and friends illustrated to me that stigma around mental illness is still alive and kicking.  Awareness around mental illness needs to be raised and the word has to get out.  One of the most powerful realizations that I had while amidst psychotic episodes, was that I still felt like me inside.  I was the same person that I was as a child, or in college.  I didn’t suddenly become someone else, though it may have appeared that way to people around me.  It was still me, only my experiences were not the same.  The world didn’t make sense anymore, and my thoughts and emotions were running rampant, but that was all “outside” of me.  Deep inside, at the core of my being, nothing had changed.

My wish is that more and more family members and friends, healthcare workers, and patients themselves, realize that a person is not to blame for his or her illness.  People should not be ashamed to say “I have a mental illness.”  There needs to be an acceptance around it.  I know that people are afraid of it, because people are afraid of what they don’t understand, but we can face our fears together.  I know that I am a lot less scared of my illness now, than I was when it first started.  It doesn’t have the same power over me that it had when it was “new” to me.  For those of you suffering from or affected by mental illness, know that it can get better.  There is hope, and part of that journey is helping to change the stigma around mental illness for the better.

Welcome!

canoe-header.jpgLiving with schizoaffective disorder, or any other mental illness for that matter, is most likely a challenging thing.  I know it has been for me.  Maybe there are some people who feel completely accepting of their condition, completely at peace with their circumstances, and completely fulfilled in their life right from the get go.  That is not the way it happened with me.  It took years of struggle, anguish, ups and downs, trials and tribulations, to get to a place where I could say “I’m ok.”

Acceptance of the fact that I have a “mental illness,” which I think is a terrible term for it, did not come easy.  I had to be beaten to the ground numerous times before I started to respect the illness as something real.  Mental illness differs from physical illness in the fact that their are no diagnostic tools to measure it with.  It is based on patient descriptions and doctor observations of symptoms.  There are no blood tests as of yet that will show an imbalance of a chemical as an indicator of depression, or psychosis, for example.  And as hard as it may be to diagnose, it is even harder to accept from the inside.

I am starting this blog as an outlet of expression for me, and as a way to reach people who may be affected by mental illness.  It has been nearly a decade since my first hospitalization and diagnosis, and maybe by sharing my experiences of suffering, acceptance, and ultimately healing along my journey of recovery, I can lessen the burden on someone else.  One of the most difficult aspects of schizoaffective disorder for me was the inability to relate to others.  Hopefully by sharing my journey, others can relate to what I have been through, and find relevant information that may help them along their path.

Thank you for reading, and I wish you the best on your journey of recovery and healing.  Remember to be forgiving of yourself and others, and to look for the good in a person or situation.

Be well,

Joshua