Why Am I Still Sick? Mental Illness, Faith, and the Love of God

Rumor has it, I'm going to start preaching again. My brain functions a lot better than it used to. But it still functions slowly. So to give myself plenty of time, I have been looking ahead to the scriptures that are coming up in the lectionary.

[In the Episcopal Church, among others, we preachers don't pick and choose our favorite bits of the Bible. We get confronted by and have to deal with what is assigned.]

That's how I came across Matthew 9:18-26, one of the texts for early June. Jesus is on his way to heal a young girl when a woman with an issue of blood reaches out surreptitiously to touch him. He feels the power go out of him and turns to confront her. Then he says:

Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.

Ah, here it comes -- the faith question of every person with a chronic or fatal illness, every person who prays and has people praying for us.

Don't I have faith? Don't I have enough faith to get my healing?

Many years ago in one of my darkest times, I met a young woman. She was part of a mission group who had come from Mexico to Costa Rica. On behalf of a local church, she and others would be going door to door, sharing their witness.

She asked me what I was doing in Costa Rica. So I told her that I had depression and was writing a book about it.

Without missing a beat, she answered, If you give your life to Jesus, he will heal you, and you won't have depression anymore.

She described her life in her teens, a life of indulgence, as she put it. She was a smoker. But then she gave her life to Jesus and he turned her around. He took away her addiction to cigarettes

Oh, honey.

She and I had met at the church that was sponsoring the mission. The worship service had gone long. I was tired. And I didn't have enough Spanish to get into it with her.

So I didn't tell her that 

• I fell in love with Jesus when I was eight and was baptized
• I took Jesus as my Lord and Savior when I was eighteen at college
• I gave my life to Jesus when I entered seminary at twenty-five
• I vowed to . . . pattern my life in accordance with the teachings of Christ, so that I may be a wholesome example to my people when I was ordained a priest at twenty-nine
• I . . . well, you get the idea.

The thing is, I have a brain that works differently, and sometimes not very well. Living a life in Christ has not protected me from the symptoms of bipolar disorder, nor even from feeling suicidal at its worst.

Bipolar disorder has been around for millennia. People had it before the coming of Christ. And people have had it since. Faith in Jesus really has nothing to do with it.

I am glad that Jesus took away her addiction to cigarettes. I am glad that Jesus healed the woman with an issue of blood, that he freed the Gerasene man who had been possessed, that he raised Lazarus from the dead.

But he hasn't healed me. At least, he hasn't taken away my bipolar.

Why not?

No, don't answer that question. I don't want an explanation. I especially don't want God to explain to me how He -- and I use that pronoun on purpose -- how He is using my suffering to some greater end. To help you, I suppose.

I don't want a God who manipulates people who are suffering, moves us around on some chessboard as part of His grand design.

For God's sake, don't tell me to have faith.

What a cruel notion that if you just believe hard enough you will be healed.

The first preaching I will do after an absence of a few years will be for a man who was one of the most faith-filled people I know. He died after waiting for years for a lung transplant, while people around the world prayed for him. As people have prayed for me.

Why am I still sick? I think that's the wrong question to address to God. I think that question posits the existence of the kind of God that we want, a God who will answer our questions and give us certainty and make us feel good.

A God that exists only in our desires and our imaginations.

Whoa! Did the preacher say that God doesn't exist? No, the preacher said that the God that does exist is not small enough to fit inside the box of our desires.

Who is the God who does exist? I am a very smart person. Nevertheless, that question is beyond my bandwidth. I have my own desires about God. But I no longer expect that God will satisfy them.

However, reading all those stories of healings year after year, over forty years of preaching on them, there is something that I have noticed. In almost every one of them, part of the healing is a return to community.

The woman who had had an issue of blood for fifteen years (endometriosis?) would have been unclean on that account. Nobody would have touched her. For fifteen years. Now she could take a neighbor's hand.

The Gerasene man who was possessed (schizophrenia?) lived in chains outside the city of Gerasa. When he was restored to his right mind, Jesus sent him home.

Lazarus -- dead and in the tomb. Jesus returned him to his sisters.

And me with my bipolar -- that is the kind of healing I have experienced. When I was newly disabled and not leaving my second floor condo except to go to the doctor, I joined NAMI -- National Alliance on Mental Illness. I went a Peer to Peer class, where people with mental illness teach other people with mental illness how to navigate our lives.

I discovered people who didn't care whether I had faith or not. They didn't need for me to be healed to confirm their own faith. They expected I wouldn't be. And they loved me. They invited me in. They were my new community.

Romans 8 -- that's what I believe. When I don't believe in God -- I really don't believe in the God who withholds healing based on my puny wounded capacity for faith -- I do believe this:

I am sure that neither death, nor life, [nor feeling suicidal], nor angels, nor principalities, [nor health insurance companies], nor height, nor depth, [nor the personal hell of side effects], nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

I am not healed. But I am loved.

That's a kind of healing. And it is enough.

photo by Nevit Dilman, used under the creative commons license.

Do Your Meds Work? There's More You Can Do to Treat Bipolar

Ellen Frank: Treating Bipolar Disorder - A Review

Ellen Frank changed my life. When I was diagnosed on the bipolar spectrum, and hadn't found a medication regime that I could tolerate, her Interpersonal and Social Rhythms Therapy gave me a way to get a handle on my wildly fluctuating condition.

She and I corresponded in 2011, as I was writing a four-part review of her book and her therapy. I published with her assurance that I got it right.

I was over the moon when she agreed to endorse Prozac Monologues: A Voice from the Edge. She wrote:

Brilliantly written, engaging from the first page, Prozac Monologues is a bit like a great evening at a first-rate comedy club…except that it is deadly serious.  Goodfellow’s painful and all too common journey to finding the right treatment for her bipolar disorder points her to the ultimate realization that doing well with this illness requires the right medication, the right psychotherapy, and the specific lifestyle modifications that support wellness.

Ellen Frank, Ph.D.Distinguished Professor Emeritus of Psychiatry, 

University of Pittsburg School of Medicine

Pretty cool, huh! She even wrote privately to her listserv to recommend it.

So many people I read on Twitter struggle to manage their bipolar disorder. I figure it's time to bring this four part series out again. So here is Part 1 - from April 4, 2011.

Medication And Mental Illness

Medication for mental illness is just like medication for anything else. It works better when you don't ask it to do all the work itself.

In the case of bipolar, once lithium and the chemical imbalance theory came along, the thinking was that medication was the only thing that worked. Therapy by itself certainly didn't. I wonder if therapists, worn out by their bipolar patients, were simply relieved to believe that medication was the only thing that worked. I wonder if therapists today, worn out by their recurrent depression patients, are secretly relieved to terminate when the diagnosis changes to bipolar, because medication is the only thing that works.

Frankly, there is a lot of wishful thinking out there in pharmacotherapy land. If only our brains were a chemical stew and the illnesses of the brain could be treated by adjusting the recipe. If only.

But people with mental illness, especially people with bipolar, can't afford the wishful thinking behind the better living through chemistry fantasy. Sometimes the medications do work. But not as well nor as often as your doctor would like to think.

I have a friend who is a psychiatrist. He challenges his colleagues who keep trying to solve this noncompliance issue, to get their patients to comply. He reminds them, if the medication (antidepressants, in this example) worked for 40% of those who took it in the trial, and the placebo worked for 30%, that means only one out of ten people benefit from the medication itself. So what's the big deal about nine who quit?

He says they just look at him funny.

Treating Bipolar Disorder by Ellen Frank

This same friend, God bless him, loaned me a book about a psychotherapy designed specifically for bipolar disorder titled, appropriately enough, Treating Bipolar Disorder. The author Ellen Frank, professor of psychiatry and psychology at the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine and director of the Depression and Manic Depression Prevention program at Western Psychiatric Institute and Clinic, and her colleagues invented Interpersonal Social Rhythms Therapy (IPSRT), a kind of mash-up between talk therapy and regulating circadian rhythms.  It gets my next few posts.

In A Nutshell... 

IPSRT [is] a treatment that seeks to improve outcomes that are usually obtained with pharmacotherapy alone for patients suffering from bipolar I disorder by integrating efforts to regularize their social rhythms (in the hope of protecting their circadian rhythms from disruption) with efforts to improve the quality of their interpersonal relationships and social role functioning.

Beyond the DSM: Three Ways to Manage Other Issues of Bipolar Disorder

Medication is approved for a mental illness if it reduces symptoms, the symptoms listed in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM).

Did you know that there is more to bipolar disorder than: 

an episode of depression + 

elevated or irritated mood, inflated self-esteem, decreased need for sleep, pressure to keep talking, flight of ideas, distractibility, increase in goal-directed activity, psychomotor agitation, and excessive involvement in pleasurable or risky activities?

These are merely the outward and visible signs of what is happening inside the brain. These are how the doctor can tell that you have bipolar disorder.

But even after you suppress these symptoms, you still have a variety of neurological dysfunctions that affect your thinking, your energy metabolism, and your health.

Psych meds do not address all these other issues. They are a piece of treatment, an important piece. But suppressing symptoms, while it relieves the anxieties of those around you, does not fix your life.

"I Don't Believe in God Anymore. Just Don't Trust the Guy"

Job 42 - A sermon

Fourteen years ago, I wrote an essay titled, I don't believe in God anymore. It was a response to my grief about my mental illness, the loss of my self-image, my sense of confidence as a person who could rely on the state of my own mind.

I wasn't suicidal at the time. But I was acutely aware that chances are I would be again in the future, because I have a remitting, recurring condition. It appears, it gets better, it flairs again. And suicidal ideation is one of its symptoms, a particularly cruel symptom.

I felt betrayed. Betrayed by God.

I mean, I had given my life, my energy, my health to serving God. And all of those things had been taken away from me. Me!

Okay, I know that bad things happen to good people. Bad things happen even to saints. But, damn!

It wasn't about mental illness so much as it was about grief, grief for the loss of what I thought I knew about myself, what I thought I could count on, my brain, most of all.

And I thought I could count on God, too. So, I wrote, I don't believe in God anymore. Just don't trust the guy like I used to.

Job had a different response to his grief. He never said, I don't believe in God anymore. He continued to challenge God to be the God he thought he knew. But there are ways that the book resounds powerfully for me.

Prejudice, Not Stigma: How People with Mental Illness Get Crap Health Care

Eight years ago I published an article titled Doctors' Prejudice Against Mental Illness. It lays out the reasons why it is so damn hard for doctors to learn. Here is a paragraph from that original rant:

Similarly, people with other mental illnesses as well often do not receive routine standard of care for a whole host of conditions, including screens for infections, dental care, metabolic syndrome, even blood pressure checks, even while receiving medications that put them at risk for all of these health complications. As a consequence, the death rate gap between people with mental illness and the rest of the population is growing.

The link in the second paragraph is to a World Psychology article, a review of the literature documenting the crap health care that people with serious mental illness receive, with the consequence that we die an average of ten years sooner than people without mental illness.

The difference in lifespan is only slightly due to suicide. For the most part we die of the same things everybody else dies of, heart disease, cancer, that sort of thing. We just die sooner because our heart disease and cancers are not detected as early, nor treated as aggressively, as everybody else's.

On the Road Again for NAMI: No Cougars Encountered

NAMI and I go way back. I don't even know when or how I heard of this organization, the nation's largest grass roots organization dedicated to building better lives for the millions of Americans affected by mental illness. But it has walked beside me for thirteen years now, as I have tried to build my own better life.

NAMI began in 1979, when some Wisconsin parents of people with schizophrenia pushed back against the prevailing theory of the day, that they had caused this terrible disease in their children. They aligned their new organization with the view that schizophrenia is an illness of the brain, and a commitment to support research into medical approaches to alleviate this and other mental illnesses.

NAMI provides advocacy, education, support and public awareness. My own life has been touched by NAMI through their Peer to Peer classes and support groups. My wife attended Family to Family classes. In the last ten years, these core programs have expanded to address other needs.

So most years, I have participated in their annual fund raiser, the NAMIWalk. For the first few years, I walked with NAMI Johnson County in Iowa City, with Team Prozac Monologues. It was a party affair, kicked off with balloons and Middle Eastern dancers and roller derby demonstrations. And t-shirts, always t-shirts.

This year we did it DIY. COVID cancelled the big events. We all walked our own routes.

Do You Really Want to Use Mental Illness as an Insult?

I am tired to death of hearing mental illness diagnoses used as pejoratives.

I am tired to death of hearing technical medical terms that apply to me and my friends hurled as insults at political figures, used to describe weather conditions, and employed as self-deprecating comments in the context of life's little challenges.

I am especially tired to death of hearing this language in the postings of Facebook friends and in the pulpit from educated people who should know better.

Especially after I have called them on it over and over and over.

So you can imagine that my eyes perked up at a thread that addresses this issue, posted on Twitter by somebody who goes by the handle @queerfox.

Can People With Mental Illness Become Saints?

 The day approaches - the start of Lent Madness.

What, any reasonable person might ask, is that?

Take March Madness. Mash this bracket-style competition with a list of saints, some well-known, some utterly obscure, chosen by Scott Gunn and Tim Schenk, the two members of the Supreme Executive Committee who answer to nobody. Despite years of campaigning, they still will not include Fred Rogers. But I digress...

Every weekday through Lent the reader is presented with two saints and asked to vote. Anybody with an internet connection can vote - only once - they will know. The saint with the greater number of votes advances to the next round.

Misconceptions about Suicidal Thoughts

My publicist seems to think people have a lot of misconceptions about mental illness (she's right), because many of her questions go there. You are very open about discussing your own struggles with suicidal thoughts. What do you think are the biggest misconceptions about people going through similar experiences? So today's post will focus on suicidal thoughts or suicidality.

Suicide is not a choice

The way people talk, you'd think we sit down and make a list, pros and cons of suicide. Then based on our calculations, we make some kind of decision. She chose to end her life. Or, How could he have been so selfish.

This is called the volitional theory of suicide, suicide as an act of will. The suicide prevention approach that addresses it is to weigh in on that list of pros and cons, like Jennifer Michael Hecht's book, Stay.

You know -- Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Or, Think of what you'll miss out on. Or, whatever. In other words, how dumb or short-sighted or irresponsible or selfish you must be to decide to kill yourself.

The End of Miracles - A Review

What is it like to have depression with psychotic features?

What is a day like inside a psych ward?

What is the psychiatrist thinking?

Sometimes the best way to explore questions like these is in a story. So here is Prozac Monologues' first review of a novel.

Monica Starkman is a psychiatrist at the University of Michigan whose expertise includes psychosomatic disorders, stress, and women's issues around fertility, miscarriage, and obstetrics. In her debut novel, The End of Miracles, she turns her clinical experience to the story of one woman, Margo Kerber, a long-infertile woman who finally conceives, tragically miscarries, and then... unravels.

Holiday Shopping for Your Diagnosed Someone

Black Friday, the traditional start of the Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa shopping season has left us in the dust. Are you still wondering what to get for your neuro-diverse friend or relation? Here is Prozac Monologues' attempt ever to be helpful to my dear readers.  As my therapist said, Virgo -- your destiny is service.  Get used to it.  (I once had a therapist who said stuff like that.) The following is a holiday shopping list to guide neuro-typicals who want to please their loved ones.

This is a repost from ten years ago. So the pricetags have probably changed. But the links have been checked.

Crazy Meds can be your one stop shopping for Straight Jacket T-shirts, when you're crazy enough to let your medication do the talking, with a range of messages for any diagnosis, medication or level of in your face. The lettering is made by arranging real medication capsules for that homemade, from the heart touch. If you are shopping for me, medium size, long-sleeved, and black, of course.  My favorite message: Bat Shit Crazy.  In three years nobody ever took the hint, so I finally bought it myself.  If you are shopping for me, today I'll go with Mentally Interesting.  I'm still into black, and still refusing antipsychotics, so still a medium.

The following gift suggestions are targeted to differential diagnoses.

Christina the Astonishing!

Basil the Great vs. Christina the Astonishing – Lent Madness begins.

Saints and Lent – is Prozac Monologues straying from its mission, reflections and research on the mind, the brain, mental illness and society?  Hardly.  First, note the Madness in Lent Madness.  Then wait ‘til you see the saints.

Lent Madness

The forty days before Easter are traditionally a time to focus on one’s spiritual growth.  But there is a looniness built in from the start.  Ash Wednesday to Holy Saturday – count them – 46 days.  Oh yeah, Sundays don’t count.  Does that mean I can smoke and eat chocolate on Sunday?  Opinions vary.

And once you are debating whether you can smoke on Sunday (does it depend on what you’re smoking?), you have already leaned in the direction of madness.  Leaning, leaning…

Mental Health First Aid - So You Can Help, That's Why

Mental Health First Aid is to mental illness as CPR is to heart attack.  I discussed mental health first aid in a post a few years ago, and was pleased that a clergy colleague took the training in Iowa, to his great benefit, according to his report.  The training describes major serious mental illnesses and gives strategies for evaluating and responding to crisis situations.  It does not train people to be counselors.  It equips the general public, nonprofessionals to provide emergency assistance, in advance of professional help.

Question: Who Benefits From Mental Health First Aid

This week I attended a NAMI meeting that introduced the training to Central Oregon.  The trainer asked us, Why would somebody want to take MHFA training?  One person said he needs more tools to deal with his family member.  I said it reduces anxiety in a crisis if you know what to do.

My wife later noted our curious perspective.  We described the benefit to those who would take the course.  She countered, the reason to get the training is the same as the reason to get CPR training -- if you know what to do, you can help somebody.  The benefit is to the person who needs your help.

Ruby Wax Fills In For Mental Illness Awareness Week

Just perk up! -- 'Cuz I didn't think of that.

Saving Normal - At What Cost?

Rest In Peace, John Ferguson

John Ferguson was executed by the State of Florida on Monday, August 5 at 6:17 p.m. ET.  He killed eight people thirty years ago, and many people can't get too excited about his own death.  I understand that.  As a Christian, I am grieved that my nation kills people to show that killing people is wrong.  But I get it.

The civilized world does not get it.  The United States of America is a member of an elite club, forty-three nations that have executed people in the last ten years (brown in the map below, along with China, Syria, Libya, North Korea -- our good buddies, all of them).  We bear the distinction of being the only member from among the developed nations.

We do place limitations on the death penalty.  Our constitution, since its first passage, prohibits cruel and unusual punishment, the eighth amendment.  Over the years, the Supreme Court has ruled that all forms execution are cruel and unusual, except for lethal injection, the method that Florida used to kill John.

American Medical Association on the Death Penalty

Saving Normal -- The Diagnosis Game

For readers unencumbered by the facts of the matter or any understanding of them, Allen Frances' book Saving Normal is an entertaining romp through the world of psychiatric diagnosis which will support your deepest held suspicions: that there are a few seriously wacko people out there who are very different from the rest of us, but for the most part, mental illness is a sham and you need to just snap out it.

Not to tip my hand, or anything.

The claims made without benefit of facts will take some time to sort through. And a later post will support part of Frances' agenda. In fact, support it enthusiastically. But not this one.

The APA's Cocktail Party, 2009

Doctors' Prejudice Against Mental Illness

One in four people in the United States meet the criteria for a diagnosable mental illness in any given year.  About half will develop a mental illness sometime in their life.  Allen Frances, editor in chief of DSM-IV wants fewer people, only those with the most serious illness, to be diagnosed to spare them the stigma of the diagnosis.  The chief mechanism to achieve his goal would be to change the DSM criteria, so that fewer people qualify.

This series began by introducing Dr. Frances, whose work has inspired it.  It continues to address the topic of stigma, what it means, where it comes from, how to respond.  Last week I defined terms, adding one that expands our frame.  Briefly, Merriam-Webster says that stigma is a mark of shame or discredit; while prejudice is injury or damage resulting from some judgment or action of another in disregard of one's rights.

I think it is important to distinguish between the two.  To do so, one has to clarify the context.  Stigma, when used by somebody who is the object of stigma, is the internalization of somebody else's prejudice. When it is used by somebody else, stigma is a mechanism of diversion that calls on the object of one's own prejudice to bear the responsibility of that prejudice.

So is Allen Frances trying to protect those whom he calls the worried well from being marked with shame or discredit?  Or is he creating a diversion that calls on people who are suffering to bear the responsibility for somebody else's prejudice?

DSM-5 - Passé Before Published

Most of Allen Frances' ranting against DSM-5 bounces back to hit his own DSM-IV just as well.  He acknowledges this in the preface of Saving Normal, which he says is part mea culpa.  You could sum his argument against DSM-5 as It's DSM-IV, only more so!  We could all find some consensus around that line.

So while I am not pleased with this man's rants [did you pick up on that last week?], I do not come to praise DSM.  To keep us all on the same page, I am reposting my piece from November, 2011.  What I wrote below referred to DSM-IV.  Most of it applies to DSM-5, as well.  The differences between the two do not a difference make in my own critique.  The fatal flaw in DSM-5 is that it is DSM-IV's little brother.  That's what Thomas Insel is talking about...

Introducing Allen Frances

Allen Frances was the editor of the DSM-IV, first published in 1990.  He is now the fiercest critic of its next major revision, the DSM-5.  For over three years, he has been blogging weekly to this end at Psychology Today.  This week I will summarize his steady drumbeat.  I hope soon to publish an open letter to him.

Frances' complaint in a nutshell is that the DSM-5 creates fad diagnoses and changes criteria of older diagnoses to medicalize a whole range of normal behavior and miseries.  The link lists these problem diagnoses and a number of the following points, in an article published all over town last December.

These issues have been discussed widely, in public and private circles.  I am not qualified to address each point, though I did give a series over to one of them, the bereavement exclusion.  The best of the batch, if I do say so myself, is Grief/Depression III - Telling the Difference, which got quoted in correspondence among the big boys.

Thomas Insel - Toward a New Understanding of Mental Illness

Cutting this guy's budget is like telling Orville and Wilbur Wright to take the month off.