This was a dark time but also a time of revelations when I joined a support group for families whose relatives were diagnosed with a mental illness. I had reached the end of my own rope when I joined. My mother would not take her medication and she became hostile and erratic. She began storing scissors under her pillow because – hell, everyone was out to do her harm. The board-and-care (B&C) facility where she resided were of no help to me and their residential psychiatrist was a pure a******e.

Also, I worked full-time, had and have my own mental health issues, and was deeply stressed when my supervisor at the time recommended a support group for me. The support group is offered within an organization that advocates for mental health and for families whose relatives are diagnosed with a mental illness.

I attended the first meeting with the expectation that I would be the only person of color present and I was not wrong. In this case however, I was also the only one whose parent was diagnosed with ongoing mental illnesses. All the other members were the parents of adult children who’d been diagnosed with a mental illness(es). This definitely set me apart but it very little difference over time.

We were from various educational and socioeconomic backgrounds from high school dropouts to medical doctors. I was also the youngest member in our group but by no means was I a young woman at the time. Some of the group members were in their late 70s early 80s!

They relayed their experiences. Some of my fellow members had installed locks on their bedroom doors as they feared their adult children would kill them in the middle of the night. Others were able to rent an apartment for their child because of this same fear. A few had children who were in treatment in a facility. Their children’s ages ranged from young 20s to their late 40s.

During one meeting, I looked around the room at these strangers who I’d come to know and respect and wondered, “What would happen to their mentally ill adult child when they were gone?” Overtime, I realized that they also thought about this question.

The Exclaimer: One of the reasons that I brought in the subject of anonymous groups is that growing up in my household left its scars-mostly unseen. Very, very few people can live in that level of dysfunction and neglect without it affecting our lives in some manner. On some people, it shows in the way they carry on in their lives. Most observers would consider me high-functioning because I have gone to college and I am able to maintain employment. In the U.S. education + working means that I have overcome my background but these markers of “functionalism” do not address the unseen. If you are self-aware enough to realize that you need help, then seeking help in all its various forms is just part of life. It’s definitely a part of my life. 

One of my friends who belongs to an anonymous group found it difficult to receive what he needed during the presidency of 45 as well as the entirety of his time in office. We’ll call him, DeMarcus. As one of three African Americans in an anonymous group of about 28 people, he felt with certainty that some of his group members had likely voted for 45. 

Good to great anonymous groups purposely leave any topics related to politics along with social issues outside of their meetings. The focus is to work on YOU. But, as with many of us, we’ll sometimes go to lunch or a similar event where we become acquainted with one another outside of the 12 step guidelines and principles. This is also the time where you are likely to broaden your relationships with one another. 

For many African Americans, the socio-political climate of the country adds to the state of our own personal mental wellness. But, in an anonymous group climate, there’s no room for external fears or factors. For DeMarcus, the dilemma continues to be, “What parts of my own pathologies are mine alone that can be shared without offending anyone or starting controversy?” After all, this is all about self-healing.

I face the same dilemma in my own life at work and in the world at large. If there is a police shooting of an unarmed African American man or woman, I won’t leave home for days because I don’t feel like I can prevent or protect myself. This adds on to my own bouts with depression and anxiety. But, there are many people who see these shootings from the lens of, “They must have done something…” to evoke this extreme of a reaction from law enforcement. 

How does one strip down the layers without feeling targeted?

The first time I attended an anonymous meeting was difficult as I was the only raisin in a bowl of rice. Truth be told, one of the tenets taught by the grown folk in my day is to never tell white people the truth about your life at home. At the time that I was taught this, the only whites I encountered were my school teachers, law enforcement, social workers, and firemen. 

Yet, here I am cracking open the door and while I may not be stripping down to my birthday suit; I have taken off my jacket and shoes to step into the pool of peer self help.

Over the years, I have oftentimes been one of the few attending an anonymous meeting. I’ve met good people. Yet, there is a barrier that is hard to discern. With the exception of one anonymous meeting, I never felt unwelcomed.

The anonymous meetings whether it focuses on alcohol, drugs, overeating or other abuses share a common core system of beliefs based on The Big Book © 1939 which was originally published for alcoholics. The Book contains encouraging stories of recovery and has been updated numerous times over the years.

I did notice that most anonymous groups (I cannot nor do not speak for all anonymous groups across the globe) meetings are usually NOT hosted in predominantly African American churches in the U.S.

Of the one group that I’ve heard about that did rent space for anonymous meetings in an African American church, the minister sabotaged one of the most important anonymous guidelines regarding G/god; “Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.” 

Thus, the minister began to prosthelytize the group which in its initial state worked miracles; but then, this group disbanded as most of its members fell backward into their habits. In short order, they were robbed of their opportunity to come clean with themselves so that they could do the hard work of recovery.

In most anonymous groups, you choose your relationship with God/god i.e s/he can be the Christian deity, the Budha, any religion really or if you are atheist or agnostic, the emotional support of the group can be the spiritual element from which you draw sustenance.

For most African American churches and followers, God offered as an option is NOT optional.

I am heartbroken over the loss of my eldest brother in February of 2021. It’s not just that we were close, I have lost the last remaining member who lived with our mother. The only child from the four of us who had a constant front seat to our mother’s progression into madness. 

But, getting my brother to share what our mother was like when he was a child was nearly impossible. So much of her life remains sealed by time and the reticence of family to share. There was a ten year age difference between me and my eldest brother i.e. when I was ten years old, he was twenty. It wasn’t until I grew older that I would attempt to pry into the past.

He knew her before my siblings and I were born. He got to see a whole other Ruby who worked, took care of him, and made sure he knew how to read, write, and do math. He saw the fissures that began to reveal that she was coming apart – long before the hospitalizations and before she could no longer care for her children.

My eldest brother who made me laugh and who indulged my childhood pranks made our house more of a home. He made our sad home more bearable for me. Even though he was a teen and then a grown man during my childhood, he would occasionally let me hang out with him and his friends. When he was home, we  would destroy and then clean the kitchen when we cooked.

Little did I know that my brother and his friend would grill for the neighborhood children coming home from school. He and M (his best friend) would club at night, get up the next day, and spend their money on buns and meat. They wanted to extend what they were doing into a program to feed the kids in the neighborhood but didn’t know how. I never knew much about his life when he wasn’t home.

My eldest brother paid a heavy price for the neglect and pain he experienced in his childhood during the 1980s. Even though he turned his life around, the past rested in the heavy corners of his eyes, and in the crevices of his smile You could tell that his life had been rough. Still, he found love and happiness with his wife Dora; their love for one another is the foundation of the family they blended. He has joined the love of his life and is missed by his children and grandchildren. 

Our phone calls always ended with us talking smack to each other and then at the end, we’d always say, “I love you.”

Consumer – the patient or client seeking assistance.

There is so much tension within the U.S. as we face the upcoming 2020 elections. And, thanks to social media via technology, our awareness is heightened about the ongoing incidents of excessive police violence along with the multiple “karen” encounters. 

Mobile phones and social media have brought more people into the conversation about active racism. It wasn’t enough for Black people to recount the negative encounters we’ve had with law enforcement to our nonblack friends and coworkers. It wasn’t enough that others had also witnessed it and could testify. In fact, incidents of macro-aggressions against Black people were downplayed with the accusation that we were over-sensitive or misreading the situation. But despite all the video coverage and disseminate via social media, it does not discourage law enforcement or individuals from revealing their true selves. Amongst those who may have had a hand in dismissing our experiences were our nonblack therapists.

Most people seek therapy in order to address mental health problems and to learn effective coping skills. Issues such as PTSD, depression, anxiety, childhood trauma, and other mental health problems cross the range of race, ethnicity, religion, age, gender & e.t.c. What happens within therapy sessions when in addition to one’s personal mental health being forefront, racism in all its various forms comingle with the personal thus compounding the stressors faced by consumers? Worst yet, what happens when one’s therapist downplays these feelings, especially in face of what the world has witnessed from George Floyd’s very public execution to the trial outcome of Breonna Taylor’s murderers? Can we solely work on the personal within our sessions with therapists and dismiss the external factors that impact how we feel about ourselves and our safety in the United States? Chime in.

I have not visited this blog since its inception in 2016 and now I have chosen to regenerate it at a crucial time. We’re isolated from one another and limited in where we can go and what we can do including any gatherings. I know that for many people in my family, church is central to their spiritual and mental health. In the neighborhood where I grew up as well as most Black/African American urban neighborhoods, there’s a church on almost every corner (liquor stores too).

I don’t get into debates about the contradictions between what people do and what people believe. Instead, I see the role of churches as central to many people’s lives as a community from which to draw support. 

Not only are we facing C-19 with Black and Brown communities experiencing the highest death rates, we are also under attack via police violence and growing unemployment or underemployment rates. We’re also facing intercommunity violence also which heightens our individual feelings of fear and isolation. As a Black woman, I have to make myself leave the house despite my fears because I will fall into my own pithole of depression if I don’t get out. But each time I make a choice to leave my house, I ask: Am I going to encounter a “Karen”? Will I be pulled over? So nowadays, I avoid too much eye contact and wear cool shades and a covered mouth which conceals most of what I’m feeling. 

What about people like my brother who’s in a nursing home where they aren’t allowed visitors?” Family becomes akin to distant relatives where our interactions are limited or cut off. And yes, I think of my mother whose dual diagnosis would not allow her to understand the situation. She would feel as if I had abandoned her and this hurts me most of all if I dwell on it. She’s not here and in a way I am glad.

Why do certain internet websites decide to rerun certain stories. I know that some headlines generate more attention than others and of course the topic piqued my interest. I will not retell the whole story here but I’ll offer a snapshot. Zakieya L. Avery, 28, of maryland was charged with killing two of her four children in 2014. Believing the children to be demon possessed, she and her accomplice who was equally mentally ill, wanted to save them. Here is a link to http://www.cnn.com/2014/01/19/justice/maryland-exorcism-deaths/the for further details.

Yes , her family knew that she had mental health problems and as with most of these tragedies, the law cannot step in unless there is an apparent immediate danger to oneself or others so the only recourse is to wait until it is too late. But I don’t want to rewrite another post hammering out the same issues.

She was charged with first degree murder and attempted murder. The sanity of zakieya is in question. Most prosecution of these types of cases base their argument on the defendant being of sound mind and body because of the forethought and execution of the plan. In some cases, the plan may include concealment of the crime itself. Most people believe that if you can plan a murder or do someone harm while the individual is experiencing psychosis, then this means that they are sane enough to be tried. In our society, we confuse sanity with intelligence. They are not one in the same.

Individuals like Zakieya are rare in that not all people diagnosed with an extreme mental illness will commit acts of murder or suicide. But when tragedies do occur, what should happen to them? I have my own thoughts on this for the next post. Meanwhile, feel free to comment.

I read an article titled “A Woman with Schizophrenia Told Us What It’s Really Like to Live with Incurable Hallucinations” by Thomas Rueters at ( http://finance.yahoo.com/news/woman-schizophrenia-told-us-really-171500829.html) if your so inclined to follow the link which offered the perspective of someone diagnosed with schizophrenia who has visual hallucinations.

My mother had audio and visual hallucinations that her medication seemed to curtail but never really completely obliterated. If I had thought about it when she was alive, I would have asked, “What do the hallucinations look like?” & “What exactly are the voices saying to you?” She was paranoid because of the voices. We all, i.e. family were plotting against her was a common refrain. So far, what I have read and/or witnessed about hallucinations of various kinds is that they tend to be negative. I have always wondered why they never offer anything positive. But then, wouldn’t that be assuming that the voices are an external force?

What Star Withers, (one of the subjects) in the article concluded was that it is possible to have a life despite being diagnosed with a mental illness and that others like her need to know that. Withers still hears/sees her hallucinations but they don’t rule her life because sometimes, medication does not alleviate all of the symptoms. I always assumed that they did or maybe I relied solely on what the psychiatrists told me about Ruby’s medication. Every day, something new is presented about schizophrenia and I wish that my mother could have benefited from it. That’s one of the reasons why we really need to listen to our loved ones in regards to how their treatment is going. If the medications cannot or do not alleviate all of the symptoms, then we need to hear about those who have learned to live their lives despite being diagnosed with a serious mental illness.