Life in the black hole....

For most of my life, I have struggled with a condition that is rarely discussed in polite company. That isn't due to shame or embarrassment on my part, because I feel neither, any more than I would be ashamed or embarrassed to admit I once had a brush with cancer or a burst colon (I have had both.) My condition is not something to hide. On the contrary, I think it is something to be brought out into the light of day and discussed, so that people will both recognize it and learn what it means to struggle with inner demons so powerful they can be terminal.

It doesn't go by one name - there are many variations on the theme - but it all boils down to one thing, mental illness, a term which makes people squirm and look away.

My own personal demon is severe chronic depression, a mental illness with lifelong implications and far reaching consequences, not only for me, but for everyone close to me. It has affected my ability to cope with everything in my life, and has colored my journey since I was a pre-teen. It induces fear in the people who love me, wondering when the next episode will occur and how bad it will be, and it affects my ability to navigate life, including holding down a regular job, being a mom, and interacting with people on a daily basis.

Like most true mental illness, severe chronic depression is not a one off event, a single incident of feeling down or blue. Depression, when you struggle with it as I have, is a lifelong battle against a demon that rages inside your head, threatening your very existence in a variety of ways. [Colorful language makes people uncomfortable, just like mental illness makes people uncomfortable. But ultimately, only by bringing it into the open can it be addressed, and that is what I try to do.]

Most of the people who know me well know about my struggle. I don't hide it, in fact, I talk about it frequently and openly, trying, in my own way, to shed light in the darkness. But it is a difficult topic on which to gain traction, because most people know so little about it, and don't want to think about it, so they turn away and change the subject, as if ignoring it makes it less real. People giggle nervously when I refer to myself as crazy, rushing to negate something which I know is, at least in part, uncomfortably true. [Just for the record - I know I have a mental illness. You don't need to make it okay by denying it on my behalf!]

I often use addiction as a frame of reference when trying to explain it to people, because most people are familiar with addiction as a condition. [Ironically, addiction seems to be more acceptable and more understood than a condition of the brain which is beyond our control and often our understanding. Personally, I find that frustrating and infuriating, but at least it gives people a base to start from.] I don't think you are ever "cured" of depression or any other mental illness, any more than you can think yourself out of an addiction. If you struggle with a mental illness, it will always be there waiting to attack your thoughts when you drop your guard. You must be on the lookout for the signs at all times, because otherwise it sneaks up on you like a cat burglar and steals your life before you even know it's there.

Why bring this up now? Because the last couple of weeks we have seen the very clear evidence of what unchecked mental illness does to the human it inhabits, and it makes me sad. But I also think it's an opportunity for everyone to finally start the discussion about what mental illness is, and what needs to be done when someone is out of their own control because of it.

Don't get me wrong, I am as guilty as everyone else for watching, and I am ashamed of myself for not being able to look away. I'm not usually a celebrity watcher, and Charlie Sheen isn't a celebrity I would ever have given the time of day previously. But his rather spectacular flame out has gotten my attention for the very public nature of the fireball he has become. He is everywhere, impossible to ignore, and every time he opens his mouth I have felt more sympathy for those who genuinely love him as they watch this spectacle unfold.

But as we all wantonly speculate on what is driving this train wreck, drugs, alcohol, mental illness, it is clear to me that more is at play than simple addiction. Charlie undeniably suffers from some form of mental illness - I think he has all along - and watching him racing out of control to the bottom is painful for me, because underneath it all, I sense a deep pain driving his erratic behavior, and in some general ways, I identify with it.

Although I don't struggle with the same demons he has inside his brain, I do understand being in the throes of mental illness, and it's not as simple as just thinking yourself free. I have had people tell me to just "snap out of it," to "appreciate what you do have," to "stop being so negative." If only it were that simple.

Speaking for myself, depression is a lonely affair with oneself. Your world is reduced to one thing, and one thing only, escaping from your personal pain. Nothing else matters, because that chronic pain is so overwhelming, you cannot see beyond it.

When I watch Charlie Sheen, hear his words, see the effects of his behavior on others, I see the same basic thing at play. He is out of control in his behavior because inside himself, he is out of control in his own head. He is running as fast as he can from his own feelings and emotions, because he doesn't know how to deal with them.

This is not to excuse anything he has said or done. There is no room for excuses when you threaten others or destroy people's security. Mental illness is not the reason he has threatened his loved ones, or put their lives at risk, and most mentally ill people do not threaten anyone except themselves.

But I do recognize the frantic search for something, anything, that will make him feel better, and the destruction that goes along with that. Like addiction, it rules your life and your behavior, and it won't stop until you are ready to confront it and do the work to make the changes within yourself that are required.

I have had to accept that my journey out of the dark pit into the light is one that will not end until my life ends. I flirt with the edge constantly, looking into the abyss with curiosity, not because I want to, but because I can't help myself. I liken it to a black hole - it sucks up everything in it's sphere, and you simply cannot help being drawn in. It's not about what you want, the force is greater than your will.

Medications help enormously, and I have finally learned, now that half my life is over, to accept that help the moment I realize I'm dangling over the edge of the darkness again. I have perspective, because I have fought my way out of the all encompassing fog more than once, and I know it is possible now. I have learned to call my therapist, the tremendously talented David Miller, and go in for what I like to call a "tune-up," an opportunity to hear him tell me, once again, that I am not actually crazy, and what I'm feeling is temporary.

But I am disturbed that in the 21st century so many people still have 18th century ideas about mental illness. The taboo of talking about it is literally killing people. They are less afraid to put a bullet in their head than they are to admit they need help. How can that be in an enlightened time, I ask in bewilderment?

I would like to see this disturbing celebrity flame out turn into an opportunity to talk about what mental illness really is, what it does to the human spirit, how it affects people who struggle with it, and how lives are changed when it is a part of their world. Charlie Sheen hasn't elevated anyone with his money, his previous antics or his award winning show where he apparently (I have never seen it, so I can only go by what I've read) plays a more sympathetic version of himself. But Charlie, and his family and friends, have an opportunity to start a conversation in this country about what mental illness is and how it affects people, regardless of how much money they have or what resources they have at their disposal. That is a conversation that needs to occur, and it would be one way for him to redeem what little is left of himself.

And he needs redemption, not for us, but for him. Because it will give him a reason to get better, which is good for his family, no matter how the rest of us feel about it.

I am fortunate, because in the midst of a crushing illness which occasionally threatens my very life, I have the love and support of people who don't hesitate to tell me I am sick and need help. In return, I think I owe it to them to be honest about my illness, and to talk to others about what it means to struggle with the inner demons that are as life threatening as any other potentially terminal illness. Because make no mistake about it, mental illness is terminal without treatment. Suicide can be fast or slow, but it ends the same way no matter how it is accomplished.

Charlie Sheen has a unique stage from which to discuss the effects of mental illness. I am not so delusional as to think he will, but how I wish he would. If an out of control celebrity can turn his life around, imagine what the rest of us could do. Come on Charlie. You are one man who can move millions. Do it for your kids, do it for your family, do it for you. It would be the comeback of the century, and we would all be better off for it.