You May be Done with the Past, but is the Past Done with You?

"For the majority of us, the past is regret, the future an experiment"
Mark Twain.
"The past is not dead. In fact, it's not even past."

William Faulkner.

Those of us who have experienced mental ill health are often advised not to ruminate too much on the past, or to speculate too much about the future. Rather, we should try to live in the present, which would, it seems, make us happier. However, I would suggest that this is a rather difficult task, and it would appear, that when speaking of mental illness, the problem of feelings of guilt, regret, or even shame at the way one may have behaved when unwell is a quite common one. I, for example, sometimes find myself drenched in bad memories of times when I have been ill, and the resultant feelings of, if not shame, then just downright embarrassment, at my behaviour rise to the fore. Strangely, it is as I get better that this happens, and I seem to find it harder to justify what has gone before with the reassurances that I sometimes give myself- namely, that I was very unwell then. My mindset now seems to be entirely different, and trying to understand past behaviour can be like unravelling some enigmatic riddle. It appears to me that I was a very different person then, and maybe it is as the novelist L.P. Hartley suggested, that "the past is a foreign country; they do things differently there."

I got to thinking about all this because, as I listened to our local radio station the other morning, there was a phone-in debate about the rehabilitation of offenders, which was broadened out into the question of redemption, and whether it is possible. Many, it would seem, are of the view that leopards don't change their spots, or as the character Ida Arnold put it in Graham Greene's "Brighton Rock": "People don't change. They're like Brighton Rock. The same all the way through." But, having changed a great deal myself, I do believe in the capacity for change and the possibility of redemption. If I did hurt or offend people during periods of ill health, then I can only say that I suffered too, and that through that experience, I hope that I've become a more understanding and compassionate person.

For those who know me well, they would know that this is the case. My parents, for example, who stood by me throughout my experiences, would probably tell anyone that I was a decent, nice human being. But what of the mass we sometimes refer to as "other people". If the phone-in I listened to is anything to go by, then they have little time for those whose behaviour may have been odd or a little wayward. And so it is that it is these people I tend to worry about. This is what, perhaps, is in the back of my mind if I'm asked to disclose my diagnosis in a public way- that my past will somehow re-emerge, and far from helping to dismantle stigma, will somehow reaffirm it. You could say, no doubt, that I sometimes worry too much about this, but I do think that in these harsh times there has been a hardening of opinion towards people like myself who, through no fault of their own, have become ill or dependent in some way. I always have a slight dread, then, of my past, as it were, coming out to play, restricting my opportunities and scuppering my chances.
It is clear that such feelings are not exclusive to those with experience of mental ill health, though. It would seem that for many of us, as Mark Twain stated, "the past is regret". Indeed, one might go further and say, as William Faulkner did, that "the past is not dead. In fact it's not even past." For in our minds our memories can replay the past and bring it into our present, perhaps even letting it shape our futures. We can, of course, say that we're done with the past. Slough it off. Cut it loose. But, although we may try to do this, there is always that nagging feeling, in me at least, that though you may be done with the past, the past may not yet be done with you.             

A Road to Nowhere?

"All in all, then, the future of mental health treatment looks promising. We are no longer, it seems, and in the words of the great Talking Heads song, on a 'road to nowhere'. We are, most reassuringly, finally on the road to recovery."

From my own blog post, "The Road to Recovery".

 

 

In general, I try to keep this blog as upbeat and positive as I can, and the above quote, I think, shows this. I have now done 69 postings since that particular one, this being the 70th, and I now, I am sad to say, sometimes feel that the Pathways Group, our little gathering for those with experience of psychosis, may have reached a point, for me at least, where it has outlived some of its usefulness.

I say "some" because I still greatly enjoy the social aspect of our group, and I still think it is a great resource for those in the process of recovery, and a wonderful way of increasing people's confidence and widening their social network. In the group, we focus on people's strengths and interests, not their shortcomings, and attempt to build on those. It is, then, a most brilliant resource for those who are at a certain stage in their recovery. They meet others in the same predicament, get to go out and mingle in social situations, learn about their own problems and illnesses, and generally have a good time. And for me, it was invaluable in the process of my recovery, involving me in things which, had I not joined the group, I would probably never have had the opportunity to do.

Having said all that, it seems now to me that, having moved on significantly, and feeling better than I perhaps have ever done since the inception of my illness, the group caters mainly to those who are, without wishing to sound patronising, only so far on on their road to a better and more fulfilling life. For those, like myself, who wish to move beyond the boundaries of the group, I think that it may lack in certain areas, not really helping in moving us further forward. Despite this, we have had sessions which have signposted us towards other places which may offer help in, for example, finding a job. But, I think it would be good if the group itself could help us in this regard, perhaps offering referrals to other organisations when we feel the time is right, instead of leaving such things all down to the service user themselves.

Moreover, with the government's current impetus to get those on disability benefits back into work, this might relieve the anxiety of some who may find themselves, having been unwell for a significant amount of time, pushed rudely into a situation in which they feel out of their depth. Ironically, as the government does this, unemployment, even amongst the well majority, continues to rise, with some forecasting an increase which would put the figures near to the 3 million mark. And, further to this, with the cuts being made in the public sector, many mental health staff are themselves facing radical changes in their workplace and a more uncertain future. So, in the end, my own modest ideas may just be beyond what is able to be achieved at present.

So, recovery is great. Recovery, no doubt, is a good thing. But, I think one might ask, and perhaps members of staff might ask themselves, and those in government may well ask themselves, recovery to what end? Do we recover just to remain jobless and economically unproductive? Do we recover only to be in a situation of apparent stasis? I think these are questions which need to be asked for the well being of all of us in this situation, and to ensure that the road to recovery continues, and doesn't end up being a road to nowhere.         

Stigma- Are Things Improving?

I have often said in this blog that I feel the problem of stigma is gradually improving. In my experience, I have rarely had problems with the general public or neighbours, for example. I do not, however, go around with my diagnosis tattooed on my forehead, so to speak. So, while I behave like an ordinary human being, I suppose the problem of other people's knowledge (or lack thereof), attitudes and behaviour would not come up unless I told them of my illness. This can be a problem in itself, though, as judging who and when to tell can open up a minefield of possibilities. Would I be rejected? Would people have a different opinion of me, if they knew? I suppose only in being completely open and public about my illness could I be sure about such issues.
Anyway, the national "Time to Change" campaign, set up to tackle the problem of stigma around mental ill health, has published figures which would seem to indicate that I am correct in thinking that this problem is on the wane. They report a 4% reduction in actual discrimination experienced by those with mental illness. The figures are based on a survey carried out on 1000 people who are currently being treated for a defined mental illness and who are living in the community. The reduction was evidenced in the survey carried out in 2010, and remained consistent in 2011.
The problem of public attitudes towards, and knowledge about, mental ill health, however, seems to be a trickier issue. "Time to Change", while still reporting a 0.8% improvement in public attitudes in 2011, also states that this figure represents a drop in improvement from the previous period of 2008 to 2010, when a 2.2% improvement was seen. They state that this is consistent with international research which suggests that attitudes towards "vulnerable" groups can harden during periods of recession and unemployment. The project, then, which has received millions of pounds in funding, would appear to want us to concentrate on the reduction in discrimination, their comments on this on their website reading as follows: "The crucial thing is that the reduction in actual experiences of discrimination has been sustained."
However, I would suggest that it is often problems of knowledge and attitudes that lead to actual instances of discrimination. Don't such things, as it were, all begin in the mind? If we can't change people's attitudes, how can we change their behaviour?
Furthermore, it would appear, from looking over some other articles on the internet, that purely educational campaigns to reduce stigma are not all that successful. It has been said that TTC's own "1 in 4" message actually had little effect in changing people's attitudes towards those with experience of mental illness. More effective, it seems, is actually knowing someone who has had or has a mental illness, or meeting someone who is open about it. Admittedly, then, "Time to Change" say that their "key principle" is built on "social contact", and indeed they have created a number of events where there are, as it states on their website, "opportunities for members of the public to come into contact with people who are open about their mental health problems." They also claim that there is a clear and consistent link between their own campaign and "improved knowledge, attitudes and behaviour around mental health."
So, anti-stigma campaigning in itself can be problematic, as one is never entirely sure of the effect, or lack of effect, one is having. This is something we are only too familiar with at the Media Action Group for Mental Health. And our own, perhaps more subtle, approach to changing attitudes, may or may not be working in our local community. Overall, then, it may be fair to say that unless you have experience of, have met, or know someone with, mental illness, the chances of you even being concerned with such issues is slim. It may be that, as with many other things, we are not really bothered about them until they land on our own doorstep.
I would just say though, that if you do fancy bettering your knowledge around, or changing your attitude towards, mental ill health, why not read this blog?         

To Whom Do You Beautifully Belong?

I have just finished reading Alan Hollinghurst's "The Line of Beauty", a novel about the ruthless and decadent '80s. One segment of the novel is entitled, "To Whom Do You Beautifully Belong?", after a phrase taken form another novel by the American master, Henry James. The book is, on one level, about purely aesthetic beauty as it is contrasted with moral vulgarity, the main character of the book, Nick Guest, being in thrall to all things purely beautiful. Indeed, the title of the novel is taken from a phrase coined by Hogarth to describe the "ogee", which to him was the ultimate "line of beauty".
So, all this got me thinking about the purely beautiful, particularly in terms of writing or language, and the question, "to whom do you beautifully belong?", has been running through my mind ever since, striking me, as it did, as particularly gorgeous.
I remember when I was very young that I was always taken by poetry or prose that had a particular ring to it. Perhaps too young to understand fully exactly what was being said, I took great pleasure nonetheless in the sheer aesthetic beauty of a certain sentence or phrase.
Some have said that the phrase, "cellar door", is the most beautiful in the English language in terms of phonaesthetics (sound) as opposed to semantics (meaning). But, it is perhaps the marriage of sound and meaning which produces a truly great sentence or phrase. Tom Stoppard, I believe, said that Shakespeare was the ultimate exemplar of this marriage, where form and content are interwoven and seem to enhance each other.
However, being something of an admirer of the purely aesthetic form of beauty, I thought I would just print here a few of the lines or extracts that have wowed me in the past. I'm sure you can all think of some of your own favourite extracts or sentences, but just for you, here are a few of mine:
"...tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms further...And one fine morning-
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."
F. Scott Fitzgerald, "The Great Gatsby".
"LOLITA, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta."
Vladimir Nabokov, "Lolita".
"But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive: for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts, and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs."
George Eliot, "Middlemarch".
"By and by all trace is gone, and what is forgotten is not only the footprints but the water too and what is down there. The rest is weather. Not the breath of the disremembered and unaccounted for, but wind in the eaves, or spring ice thawing too quickly. Just weather. Certainly no clamor for a kiss."
Toni Morrison, "Beloved".
"From 30 feet away she looked like a lot of class. From 10 feet away she looked like something made up to be seen from 30 feet away."
Raymond Chandler, "The High Window".
So, there are just five of my favourites. I have restricted myself to just prose, as to delve into poetry also would probably provide so many examples that I'd be here all day. I wonder, then, what your favourite, most aesthetically beautiful, lines, sentences or extracts are, and to whom do they beautifully belong?
 

Resolving to Make No Resolutions.

So, it is now 2012, and I wish all who may read this a very happy and wonderful New Year. It is around this time that most of us make some kind of resolution about how we are going to change our behaviour. But, psychologically speaking, if what I've gleaned from a quick scroll over the internet is true, such efforts to shift our lifestyles may be doomed to failure. By giving ourselves goals which are sometimes unrealistic we condemn ourselves to disappointment.
Indeed, the whole issue of goal setting is, psychologically, a complex one. People have written whole, very weighty, books on the subject. But, to grind it down to just one or two principles, it seems that when setting ourselves some form of goal it should, first and foremost, be achievable and realistic. So, as we are often advised by mental health services, instead of trying to achieve your resolution in one giant leap, try to break it down into smaller, more realistic, aims. For example, if you want, as I do, to learn something new (a new language, perhaps) just start by setting yourself the goal of maybe looking on the internet for available courses in your area. This way, by breaking your goal down first into a smaller, achievable, constituent part, you will probably have more success. The achievement of this first goal should then lead you on to a second realistic aim, and so on and so on.
It is also advisable to perhaps set yourself a time limit for the achievement of your goal. So, having first broken your resolution down into smaller, realistic aims, you could give yourself, say, two weeks to get this first aim done. This way you can chart your progress and see a real advancement towards your ultimate goal.
This is advice we often get from mental health services, and which may prove useful to some who want to change their behaviour in some way or try something new. Many of us, though, are not that great at goal setting and actually achieving resolutions, and so, this year, my resolution may be to make no resolutions at all. Indeed, many of us, fed up by not achieving our goals, may end up like the chap in the painting by Philip Guston below, lying down, smoking and surrounded by the food we said we were going to eat less of.

"Painting, Smoking, Eating", by Philip Guston. (1973).

So, as a new year dawns, I wish all of you the very best of luck in actually achieving your resolutions. As for me, I will, as I say, perhaps resolve to make no resolutions. I'm going to let life just wash over me, I think, and suck up as much as I can on the way, or, in the words of the old song, que sera, sera, whatever will be will be.