The "Other C" Word

Earlier this year I road-tripped to NYC to for a MOVE Community Conference hosted by To Write Love On Her Arms (TWOLHA). It was an experience like no other for me.

At that two-day conference, we participated in about 7 lecture-style sessions as well as smaller break-out discussion sessions. We talked openly, candidly + honestly about brokenness, addiction, anxiety, self-injury, depression, eating-disorders + suicide.

You'd think it would have been the kind of conference I walked away from completely defeated + sure that all hope is lost in the world. Quite the opposite, it was the most liberating, refreshing + encouraging single event that I have ever had the pleasure of being a part of; particularly in the realm of mental health.

If you haven't been, I highly recommend it as a part of your own healing + self-discovery. TWLOHA holds these conferences annually in different cities across the country. Drive or fly to one, if you have to. It's well worth it... and it's remarkably affordable.

You'll find a community of people just like or very similar to you -- kindred-spirits as I call them -- all bonded by similar experiences like war-heroes.

Our war is life. Our bond is strong. We are survivors. 


Community + Communication
At that point earlier this year, I had just broken the silence about my own struggles with anxiety + depression with this blog + with a few public presentations. It was liberating to not have to hide my struggles any longer.

As an added bonus to my liberation, I was quite pleasantly surprised to discover how many people in my own sphere of influence, some of which I had known for years, had also been 'suffering in silence.' It's powerful for me to see the walls come down as a friend (brand-new or familiar) shares their story in response to my openness about depression.

Before the MOVE Conference, this rare form of unencumbered communication only happened in one-to-one settings. At that conference, I was a part of a roomful of 80 people who had either experienced some form of mental illness directly or witnessed a close family member experience it. For once, I was not the silent minority.

It was the first time that I had ever been able to talk to several people in a row or at once without the usual euphanisms, code-words + metaphoric phrases that I use in discussing my experience with anyone who hasn't dealt directly. It opened my eyes to how much I rely on that symbolic language to both help another understand + to also protect them from the intense emotions of such experiences. The downside: it also takes a lot of time + sometimes gets in the way.
 
There was one conversation in particular where I was dancing around the subject of suicide in my usual way. The new friend that I was speaking with just looked very knowingly at me + simply said something like, "Me, too... earlier this year." We both felt immediately relieved + ever so jubilant that we high-fived.

It might seem weird at best + inappropriate at worst, but our excitement was in response to being able to talk openly without judgment or the usual freak-out reactions we often receive. Our excitement was also in celebration of victory that we both had as "almost but still kicking" survivors, as I like to symbolically say.


Comedy Is Therapeutic
Among the many 'A-Ha!' moments of that MOVE conference, one big one in particular came to mind last night when I attended Gab Bonesso's Comedy Night at Brillobox.

I had seen her perform earlier this year + I just love Gab to death -- her personality, wit + overall character are fantastical. The comedy show last night was particularly enjoyable because Gab had woven a mental illness theme into the evening. It took me a while to realize it... I caught on after one comedian began talking about his ADD very openly + candidly.

Gab, of course, bases a lot of her hilarious material around her adventure-filled life with bi-polar. If finding the humor in life is a salve for the heart + soul, Gab is doing a-okay.

The show concluded with a sketch comedy performance by "The Invisible Village Theatre," a Mercy Behavioral Health project. Mercy is near + dear as my current counseling is with them. The sketches were fantastic; they touched on so many of the infinite forms + variations of mental illness by performers who all deal with some form of it. I could relate + laugh about all of it.

I was so nice + refreshing to laugh instead of cry about it; removing the usual heaviness that I often feel about such, well, depressing facts of life.


I'm getting to my point, I promise
The 'A-ha' moment came during Gab's set where she referred to herself as crazy. I was instantly transported to the MOVE Conference where we discussed how people with mental illness are currently the most stigmatized group in the US. It made sense for me that, as we continue to break down the social barriers in our society with women's rights, civil rights + gay rights, we are finally beginning to address to mental health rights.

Just like there are words on moratorium for each of those movements to end discrimination, there are very commonly used yet highly offensive words surrounding mental health that need to be taken under consideration. 'Crazy' being one of them.

In watching Gab, talk about herself being crazy or about another self-professed 'crazy' with ADD being crazy... there was no problem in my soul. However, when I heard someone else who I knew didn't deal with such issues say something like, "... all those crazies," I died a little inside. The physical manifestation was a clenching of my teeth + a flash of rage that ignited + began to burn in my chest.

Just like it is frowned upon to call any woman the 'C' word, any African American the 'N' word, anyone from the LGBTQ community the 'F' word, perhaps we should also take heed in calling anyone with mental illness the "Other C" word: crazy.

Similar to how each of these discriminated groups can call each other these words, those of us who 'come out' with mental illness are allowed to use it about each other in jest. I can call myself crazy. I can (maybe) reference the collective craziness of all of us in general. But, if you have not recognized + professed your own brand of crazy, you'd be wise not to call me crazy... to my face anyway:)


I'm crazy, you're crazy... we're all crazy! 
The difference that I just touched on is in regard to everyone's own brand of crazy. Mental illness is no respecter of persons: it crosses all age, gender, racial, social + economic lines. It's known as simply being human.... every person alive experiences some form of mental illness. It's just a matter of the severity + whether you realize/recognize it or not.

For instance, depression is often referred to as a disease but it's not exclusively. It's a human emotion; one of many on the spectrum of all the emotions we can possibly feel. Love, joy, happiness on the one end. Sadness, sorrow, depression on the other. AND everything in between. Everyone gets depressed sometimes... it's just a matter of how much it interrupts ones life that it's deemed problematic.

Everyone also feels anxiety. It's a natural survival response that has kept the human race on this planet; the same one that keeps us from blindly walking into traffic. It's just a matter of whether it becomes perpetual or out-of-control that it can be a problem, but everyone experiences anxiety.

Everyone experiences some form of human emotion. The difference is whether or not you make the connection that you're not all that different from me. The worse thing that can happen to this growing movement in mental health awareness/advocacy is if I/we start talking, "Us vs Them." Us with mental illness vs Them without. Or, vise verse.

Communication breakdown ensues for sure; ultimately destroying the cause.


What do I want?
Over my lifetime, I have built a system of rigid rules that have caused a lot of problems for me + that I am now working to dismantle. I'm not asking -- nor do I want -- the use of the 'other C' word to become another rigid no-no.

If you can accept that we all act crazy from time to time, yourself no different, then you can certainly use the word 'crazy' in conversation to your little heart's content.

What I hope this article does is compel you to be mindful of the words you use in casual conversation; to have compassion for those who deal with very difficult + challenging times in their lives.

Chances are, you'll deal with difficult times in your life at some point, too. When it happens, maybe someone will be considerate of you with the words they use in your company.

 
... Peace, Love + Understanding, Man. 
Crazy is a simple, commonly used but very demoralizing word that we throw around -- myself no different. Similar words like insane, messed-up + psycho have real implications on those of us who have experienced times where we've wondered, "Is this what crazy is like? Could I really be loosing it?"

Since the statistics show 1-in-4 now deal with depression (not including all those experiencing any of the multitude of other mental illnesses), it's a pretty safe bet there are at least few people in the room, maybe even the person you're conversing with, who have experienced or are experiencing some form of crazy.

It's just a little something to keep in the back of your mind as "Guidelines For Harmonious Living" to make the world a little less crappy. GFHL #1: As my fave advocate, Secret Agent L, says, "Be Kind. No Exceptions."

If not, you've been forewarned (punch, punch;)