A few days ago, while doing some research on Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT), I ran across an extremely negative website.  It went on at length about the barbaric treatment which was similar to brainwashing and lobotomy.  There were photographs as well as videos of the ECT procedure, as well as insulin coma therapy.  There were interviews with patients who claimed that they lost much of their memory and were worse off than before.  All in all, the site did a great job of creating fear and adding to the stigma of ECT and mental illness. 

The photos and videos used were quite old, depicting, in not-so-vivid black and white, the way the procedure used to be done.  Of course, they appeared somewhat prehistoric compared to the procedures of today.  Patients were seen biting down on objects so they wouldn’t bite their tongues or break teeth.  Patients were restrained due to the violent shaking that could occur.  The facilities and equipment appeared ancient, like something out of Young Frankenstein.  All of this was done, of course, to prove their point and to tell only one side of the story.

I’m sure I could create such a website to scare you out of having dental work or surgery.  Just think of the early attempts at anesthesia, cutting, suturing, the dangers of infection, and the pain.  Imagine how you would feel about going to the dentist if I show you a clip from The Marathon Man.  Or would you like to consider leg amputation after I show you how it was done during The Civil War?  Perhaps I could demonstrate the fine art of bloodletting using leeches.  I think you see my point.

I had ECT treatments about 14 years ago.  There was no pain, no significant aftereffects, almost no memory loss (most of which returned), no brainwashing, no destruction of my personality, no nothing.  I slept through the whole thing and woke up in the recovery room.  But I did more than wake up.  I stepped out of total darkness and into the light.  And the world has been getting brighter and brighter each day. I am forever grateful.

Life has remarkably improved since 1997.  It was in that fateful year that I became severely depressed.  I had been depressed for most of my life but it had never been diagnosed.  For so many years, I was able to do well in school, have friends, fall in love, get married, raise a family, and keep a job.  I tried not to let anyone know about the feelings of worthlessness.  I did a pretty good job of hiding behind a mask.  I didn’t think I was depressed.  I just thought I had low self-esteem and worried a lot.

In 1997, something happened that led me into a downward spiral of despair.  (I will discuss this in more detail in the book which I am writing so stay tuned.)  After several sleepless nights, I decided to consult my rabbi.  One of my biggest worries was that I had become evil and done evil things.  I was afraid that God would never forgive me.  I was afraid of God. My rabbi told me that the issue was not whether God would forgive me because He already had.  God would understand.  I had to forgive myself.

Today, I spent a lovely and relaxing day on the beach with my wonderful wife.  We read, we napped, we relaxed, we enjoyed our togetherness.   Every now and then, I would gaze at the blue sky and the wispy, white clouds.  I would listen to the songs of the birds and watch them fly.  I watched the moon rising in the sky above the ocean.  I watched the people, some jogging, some walking, some biking, some just relaxing.  I took it all in and thought about God and His creations.

In the Torah, when Moses sees the burning bush, God calls to Moses and Moses replies “Hineni” (Here I am).  Today, I called out to God and He answered “Hineni”.  God created all of the wonderful things I saw and felt today.  He is in my heart.  He is in my soul.   He has always been there.  All I had to do was ask.

Life has certainly changed.

It is said that the first step is always the hardest.  Well, the first step is going to be taken this evening.  I have been talking about writing a book for a while now.  I have been writing a blog quite regularly and, I know that some of that material will find its way into the book.  I have mulled over the structure, the chapters, what to include and what to exclude.  And yet, I fear that it won’t be good enough.  I fear that nobody will be interested in my story.  After all, I am not the first person to write a book about being depressed and recovering.  Some pretty famous people have already done that so why do I need to do it?

This is a fear which I have had to deal with for most of my life.  The fear of not being good enough, the fear of failure, the fear of taking that first step.  But then I think of all of the times when I overcame that fear and succeeded.  I was so nervous about being a member of the Michigan Marching Band since I came from a small high school music program and never had private lessons.  But I made it and was the top freshman in my section.  I was scared to death of getting my MBA at Michigan but I did it (well, I survived it anyway).  More recently, I started on a program to lose weight and lost 85 pounds and became a health coach.  I tried to run a quarter mile and couldn’t.  Then, last November, I completed a half marathon.

My brain has been learning to think positively.  I have been practicing feeling gratitude.  I have broken out of my shell and approached people who I once would have thought were unapproachable.  I have taken a class to study my faith.  I have even been taking dancing lessons with my wonderful wife!  So many changes.  And it’s all because I am changing what I believe.

So here I am, in Florida, relaxing for a week away from reality.  I feel great, at peace, creative, and ready to write.  I even have a title already selected for my book and it comes from the Torah.  I stumbled upon it by accident.  Do you believe in accidents?  I don’t.  Not anymore.

Today was a marvelous day.  I got an early start, getting up around 6AM to study a Torah portion.  This morning, the maftir portion is a special one prior to Passover and it is quite long.  I volunteered to chant it a few weeks ago but, as is my customary style, I didn’t really attack it until a few days ago.  I had the first 10 verses pretty much done but the last 10 were a bit shaky.  For those of you who have never seen the writing in the Torah scrolls, it appears as words without vowels and without the musical notes.  I practice it from the book that has the vowels and musical notes several times, one verse at a time, until I have a feel for how it sounds.  Then I try it without the vowels and the notes.  I don’t memorize it word for word.  I have to see it to remember the words.  But I do have a sense of muscle memory so that I remember how it feels when it is done correctly.  Anyway, I got up early to practice before services began this morning.  Today was a big day for my wife and I since our four children and our son-in-law were all in town to visit for the weekend.  We enjoyed having them with us in services this morning.  This is the first time in several years that we have been together for services. My father-in-law, who everyone calls Papa, was with us as well.

After services, we had a friend do a photo shoot for a family portrait.  The weather was perfect and we found a great place in our neighborhood with lots of natural scenery.  We had a great time laughing, joking, and making funny poses for the camera.  Then the kids and I went to the driving range to hit some golf balls.  I can’t remember the last time I swung a club and, with some bursitis issues in both shoulders, I wasn’t even sure I could do it.  But, my first swing with a wood resulted in a glorious flight of the ball, straight and true.  It was one of my best shots of the day since several of my attempts didn’t go very far.  We had more laughs as one of my son’s new club heads broke off and went about 50 feet from the tee. This evening, we had a great family dinner with more laughter, jokes, and stories.

Over the last several weeks, I have been taking a class called Ayeka, which means “Where are you”.  In this small class, we have been exploring our own faith and our personal connection with God.  I have always struggled with my faith and belief in God.  But by thinking more positively and learning about gratitude, my faith has become stronger.  I feel more connected to people and things around me and I believe that I am more connected to God as well.

Today, I saw God many times.  I read the words from the Torah about God instructing the Jews about the Passover.  I saw God in the love and pride of the family of the Bat Mitzvah.  I saw God in the faces of happiness of my children during our photo session.  I saw God in the love that my daughter and her husband feel for each other.  I saw God in the joy that Papa has to see his grandchildren all together.  I saw God in the love my wife and I have for each other.  Besides all the love and happiness surrounding us, the beauty of the day, with all of the colorful flowers and trees in bloom, was a gift from God.

Sometimes, when times are tough, it can be difficult to find God.  When I was severely depressed, I didn’t think I would ever see God again.  Thankfully, I see him all the time now.  He is there, in the people around me, the beauty of nature, and in me as well.  I hope you see Him too.

At our recent meeting of NAMI-Cobb, the issue of mental illness in our military was mentioned by one of our members.  I did a bit of research and found  an article entitled “Stigmatization, Culture of Toughness Hamper Progress for U.S. Military Mental Health Care (http://bit.ly/AFeBM1).

The author cites the recent example of the US soldier who killed 16 civilians in Afghanistan.  He “had served three tours in Iraq before arriving for his deployment in Afghanistan in December, was previously based at Joint Base Lewis-McChord near Tacoma, Washington. He had reportedly suffered from a traumatic brain injury earlier in his career, and his attorney has suggested that a post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) defense is likely”.

The article goes on to mention how, although the US military is trying to deal with these issues, the demand is just too great.  In addition, one of the major problems is the stigma of a mental problem in the military and how it might affect the career of a soldier.  Soldiers are supposed to be brave and tough.  They should be strong enough to just pick themselves up and get over it.  Those who can’t and seek help can be viewed as weak and should not stay in the military.  Often, those who need help do not seek it. According to Dr. Bret A. Moore, a military mental health consultant who has authored books on treating PTSD and adjusting to life after deployment, “Leaders need to make it okay for their troops to go talk with a mental health care provider.”

For those of you who have family members in the military, who are in need of help, please give them all the love and support you can.  It is very important to know the symptoms of PTSD.  According to WebMD,:

Symptoms of PTSD most often begin within three months of the event. In some cases, however, they do not begin until years later. The severity and duration of the illness vary. Some people recover within six months, while others suffer much longer.

Symptoms of PTSD often are grouped into three main categories, including:

• Reliving: People with PTSD repeatedly relive the ordeal through thoughts and memories of the trauma. These may include flashbacks, hallucinations, and nightmares. They also may feel great distress when certain things remind them of the trauma, such as the anniversary date of the event.
• Avoiding: The person may avoid people, places, thoughts, or situations that may remind him or her of the trauma. This can lead to feelings of detachment and isolation from family and friends, as well as a loss of interest in activities that the person once enjoyed.
• Increased arousal: These include excessive emotions; problems relating to others, including feeling or showing affection; difficulty falling or staying asleep; irritability; outbursts of anger; difficulty concentrating; and being “jumpy” or easily startled. The person may also suffer physical symptoms, such as increased blood pressure and heart rate, rapid breathing, muscle tension, nausea, and diarrhea.

If you notice any of these symptoms, please seek a qualified therapist.  We all appreciate the efforts of our soldiers and we certainly want them to have every opportunity to live happy lives with their loved ones upon their return home.

This Sabbath morning, my wife and I attended religious services at a different synagogue from the one of which we are members.  One of my wife’s students was becoming a Bat Mitzvah so we went to her temple to celebrate the occasion. As we entered the building, I noticed several brochures on display so I began to browse.  One in particular caught my eye so I picked it up and read it during the service.  It is entitled “When Madness Comes Home – Living in the Shadow of a Loved One’s Serious Mental Illness”.  I was particularly intrigued by a section entitled “Understand the Jewish Perspective on Mental Illness”.  I was completely unaware that we had a perspective on mental illness, so I read this section with great interest.

In Tosefta Terumot 1:3, a mentally ill person is defined as “One who goes out alone at night and walks about in the cemetery, one who tears his clothes, and one who destroys what is given to him”.  The Hebrew word used for the mentally ill is “Shoteh”.

I looked up the English meaning of the word “Shoteh” and found that it means “fool”.  I asked an Israeli friend of mine and she confirmed that translation.  However, she said that it is not typically used nowadays to mean mentally ill.  The word more often used is “Meshugah”, which is typically used by most Yiddish speakers to mean someone who is crazy.

I am not a big fan of political correctness but I do believe that words carry a lot of weight in our society.  As one who has struggled with depression for many years, I don’t believe that a word meaning “fool” accurately describes me.  Nor do I think it applies to John Nash, Walter Cronkite, Dick Cavett, and the list goes on.

There was a time when the mentally ill were locked away in asylums and treated in barbaric ways.  Today, many people who have a mental illness are able to live full and productive lives.  As we begin to understand and unlock the mysteries of the human brain and its illnesses, our language must begin to change as well.

This evening, I attended a meeting of the Cobb County chapter of the National Alliance of Mental Illness (NAMI).  This was the first time I have attended a meeting of an organization such as this one.  When I was suffering from depression and, during my recovery, I was either unaware of or uninterested in support groups.  After my ECT treatments, I recovered quickly and never felt the need to be involved in a group.

ECT did for me what control-alt-delete does for a computer.  It interrupted whatever was going on so that I could reboot and start again.  But it is only in the last few years that I have started thinking positively and believing in myself.  I have also decided it is time to tell my story of depression and recovery so that I might be able to help other people who are locked in the darkness.  I reached out to NAMI and I have been welcomed with open arms.  I met some wonderful people there and I look forward to becoming a part of their mission.  I will be serving on the board as a Vice President and I hope to be able to help shape the future of NAMI-Cobb as we continue to do great work for our community.

 

 

 

Tomorrow evening, I will be attending my first meeting of the National Alliance for Mental Illness (NAMI)-Cobb.  I am looking forward to making new friends and working with an organization which is dedicated to removing the stigma of mental illness and its treatment.  A new leadership board will be inducted tomorrow night and I am truly honored to be in the running for one of the positions.

We will also be participating in something which I have not heard of before – laughter yoga.  According to Wikipedia, “Laughter Yoga (Hasyayoga) is a form of yoga employing self-triggered laughter. The concept of Laughter Yoga is based on the scientific observation that the body cannot differentiate between fake and real laughter, and that both provide the same physiological and psychological benefits. Laughter Yoga combines unconditional laughter with pranayama (yogic breathing). Laughter is simulated as a body exercise in a group; with eye contact and childlike playfulness, initially forced laughter soon turns into re  al and contagious laughter. The “laughter” is physical in nature, and does not necessarily involve humor or comedy.”

For more information about laughter yoga, check out Laugh for No Reason by Madan Kataria.  Tune in tomorrow night and I’ll let you know who it went.

Most of my memories of my childhood are negative.  This is not uncommon for people with depression.  We tend to focus on negative things and, although I had a pretty typical upbringing, my brain seems to have a superhighway to the negative areas and there is a toll bridge, guarded by a mean and ugly troll, to get to the land of positive thinking.

This evening, I participated in the fourth of six modules of a class at my synagogue.  The class is called Ayeka and it is focused on exploring where G-d is in our lives and how we can seek him out.  This is a very enjoyable class and I look forward to it each Tuesday evening.  Tonight’s topic of discussion was food.

During the class, I recounted a wonderfully positive memory of my childhood as it relates to food and my father.  My parents were Hungarian and spoke mostly Hungarian in our home.  Most of our friends and relatives were Hungarian as well so I understood pretty much anything I heard.  My father truly enjoyed food, whether he was eating it or feeding it to me.  I remember how much he enjoyed preparing food for me and watching me eat.  After my first bite, he would usually ask me if it was good (jó? which means good? or finom? which means delicious?).  He used to just love seeing my enjoyment, which may explain why I was overweight!

I remember he used to cut up some kind of smoked bacon and rye bread and give me a plateful.  A piece of bacon atop a piece of bread, all of them lined up on the plate.  I really loved it.  He called it katona.  I grew up thinking the the word katona was the Hungarian word for bacon.  Seemed to make sense, right?  Until one day, my father was talking about himself when he was a young man and he said that he was a katona.  He was a piece of bacon?  I was so confused.  So I asked him what he meant, calling himself a bacon.  He told me that katona was the word for soldier.  He called the bacon and bread katona because he lined them up like a platoon of soldiers.  I had quite a laugh over that.

I usually don’t think about G-d before I eat.  I don’t say blessings or prayers.  I just eat, taking the food for granted.  Tonight’s class, and this memory of my dad have changed this.  I thank G-d for the gift of food – and my father’s love.

Have you ever worked on a problem at school or work and realized that you were in over your head?  Perhaps you didn’t have enough time to figure out the solution and the deadline was approaching?  Or perhaps you didn’t have the subject matter expertise to solve the problem.  Maybe you didn’t have the technology required.  What do you do in these cases?  Do you ask for help?  Or do you plod along for hours trying to figure it out on your own, only to miss the deadline and feel like a failure?  If you don’t ask for help, is it because you are stubborn, proud, confident?  Or are you afraid to admit that you need help?  Are you afraid to seek out someone who might know something which you don’t?  Are you afraid that you will look like a failure and you will be ashamed and never live it down?

The fear of asking for help is something very real, and something which I know quite well.  As a child, I was known as one of the smart kids in school so the thought of asking for help was absurd.  My classmates expect me to have the answer.  And if I didn’t have the answer, I believed that the school would be talking about it for days.  This was the case all through my education, even in graduate school.  I didn’t want to appear stupid by asking someone to help me.  But I also didn’t want to be called on by the professor when I didn’t know the answer.  Consequently, I was pretty much a nervous wreck during much of my graduate school career. It still happens at work too.  Even though I am part of a team, I feel like I need to pull my own weight and take care of my own assignments.

In a 2008 article entitled How To Ask For Help, (http://drdeborahserani.blogspot.com/2008/08/how-to-ask-for-help.html) Dr. Deborah Serani discusses the following myths about asking for help:

• It makes us look vulnerable.  Actually, it creates empowerment.
• Holding things in and keeping personal issues under wraps keeps us secure. Actually, it connects you with others and helps you see that not everyone has all the answers.
• It bother others. Actually, most people feel good when they help others.
• Highly successful people never ask for help.  Actually, asking for help is how they became successful.
• I am a giver. I don’t like when others help me. Actually, everyone deserves a helping hand.

Just remember this: When asking for help, appeal to people’s self-interests, never to their mercy or gratitude.