What's In a Name

A long time ago, before life decided it was time for me to participate in the adult world and deal with things of a heavy nature, I dated a young man who was a psychologist. He was a few years older than me, and loved poetry. He was quite the romantic, and I often found little notes left for me at work or on my windshield - sometimes typed, sometimes handwritten - that beautifully and eloquently described his view on whatever happened to be on his mind at the moment.

One letter opened with this:

Dear Elizabeth,

You really have a beautiful name. A lot of people I know are named inappropriately - you are not.

I can hear you sighing. Yes, it was charming and tender. He did that a lot.

Unfortunately, though, we broke up after a few months of dating. In spite of his romantic writings, I grew tired of having my quirks psychoanalyzed on every date. So we went our separate ways but, years later, I still think of the beginnings of that letter. I have come to know and understand that our names are important. Words are important. What we call things is important.

The words that are used in the world of mental illness are heavy, scary words. Consider:

Involuntary Commitment

Locked Unit

Forced medication hearing

Catatonia

Psychosis

Paranoia

Manic

In the early day of my son’s illness, it felt that I had been suddenly dropped into a world where everyone spoke like this, and every time I heard one of these words, I cringed. It was crushing to have these words associated with my child. But as time went on, I realized that for every scary word, there was also a reassuring word:

Hope

Prayer

Love

Family

Faith

Peace

Knowledge

Confidence

Rest

It is quite easy to be bullied into a corner by the fearful words that serious mental illness brings into our lives. I’ve frequently cowered in the face of them myself. But when those moments come, I tell myself that I am stronger and more courageous than the coward of schizophrenia that tries to bully my son with voices and hallucinations. I am more tenacious than the hold of psychosis, and more radiant than the darkness that tries to cover me when I’m standing on the outside of a psychiatric unit’s locked door while my son is on the other side.

If you are in despair because the frightening words associated with mental illness are swirling around you, I invite you to take a moment and write down ten words that bring you comfort. Those words may be similar to the ones on my list, but there may be others, including the names of people who are supporting you, on your list. Post them where you can see them often - perhaps on your bathroom mirror or on the dashboard of your car. Look at them often.

And when you’re feeling intimidated by the disheartening words that come with mental illness, remember that you can be courageous, and strong, and smart about what needs to happen. Maybe start with those words on your list, and go from there.