Catherine Zeta-Jones, Charlie Sheen and kicking the shame out of mental illness

According to CNN, "Catherine Zeta-Jones, has checked herself into a mental health facility.
The actress, who has been by Douglas’ side since he was diagnosed with throat cancer last fall, is seeking treatment for bipolar II disorder, her rep confirms to CNN."

There is an excellent link to an article on bipolar disorder here - and brava for Ms. Zeta-Jones for not only getting help, but for choosing not to keep it a secret.  This takes courage, class - and, I believe, a desire to help others by example.

 As for Charlie Sheen - well, no one can diagnose from afar, but I sure would bet a cup of coffee on the fact that he, too, has bipolar disorder.  Just saying.  And, with acceptance and continued treatment, he could be back on Two and a Half  Men by the fall.  However - the road to acceptance is no short journey. 

NAMI Family-To-Family: Happy 20th Anniversary

My son Ben is two weeks into a job. An actual job, with paychecks and everything. And by “everything”, I mean a reduction in benefits which almost wipes out the money he’s earning…but that’s another story. The main thing is that Ben is earning this money, and that feels completely different to him. The change in his self-esteem is astonishing. He has something to say when people ask him, “So what do you do?”

As the publication date of Ben Behind His Voices approaches,  I find myself thrilled that its launch will coincide with the 20^th Anniversary of NAMI’s Family-to-Family Program, because that is the course that saved my family by teaching me what I needed to know to cope with my son’s mental illness. NAMI helped me, and then I had the tools and the support to help my family – including, eventually, my son.

In January of 2002, I walked into my first F2F meeting – and I walked out completely changed. Although NAMI support groups had thrown me my first lifeline out of the hellish confusion of my son’s symptoms, I needed more. F2F was different from the support meetings in that it was a structured, once-a-week, course that was more educational in nature. In twelve weeks, I could learn about mental illness and its effect on the entire family, including the person who suffered from the illness.  This was taught by other family members who were trained by NAMI to implement the course. And – it was free.  All that was required was the commitment to attend all twelve classes, one evening a week, for 2 ½ hours each class.

What did I get?

Clarity.

Where truth, support, and hope began: NAMI's Family-to-Family Course

Now: Ben made the Dean's List again! The letter from our local community college confirms his status and adds, "It is a a very worthwhile accomplishment to have become one of our best students." For the first time in over a decade, Ben actually cares about his grades;  there was a time he considered report cards a government plot to control him.  Ten years ago, he was a high school dropout, refusing to discuss his future plans, wandering through our town streets because he "didn't like the stupid rules at home."  Sometimes, then, he slept in the park.  My son, homeless and hopeless. His family: confused, devastated, always at our wits' end.

Recovery takes time - and a lot more. So as we take this journey, I continue to teach (and train others to teach) a course for NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) called Family-to-Family.  This program - one of many offered by NAMI -saved our family by teaching me about mental illness and giving me the skills to deal with our new reality.

It was there that I learned the devastating truth that was necessary for the start of recovery: Ben truly did have a serious, and severe, mental illness. He was not "stubborn", or "going through a tough adolesence" - he was ill, and it wasn't his fault.  What did that mean for us? For him? By opening my eyes to the facts, this course opened my mind to solutions. 

I am forever grateful to Dr. Joyce Burland, who created the 12-week class, and to everyone at NAMI who continue to help bring it to families like ours.  For free. Still, so many families don't even know what it is.  I urge you to find out.  Visit http://www.nami.org/ and find a wealth of free information, and a link to your local affiliate.  Click on "education" and there you are.

Find NAMI. It's something you can do for yourself - -RK

Excerpt from Ask about Ben Behind His Voices: One Family's Journey through Schizophrenia to a New Normal. December2003 (for info on publication, contact Claire Gerus, cgerus@comcast.net, literary representation)

In my years in NAMI, I’ve met some unforgettable people. While Family-to-Family is strictly for relatives of people with mental illnesses, the support groups also include the “consumers” (the current term for the ones who have been diagnosed with the illness) themselves, those who are struggling with their own recovery and ready to accept and talk about it. There are support groups strictly for consumers too, but it’s amazing to sit in a room where consumers and family members share their experiences with each other.


I’ve met people with such courage, such insight, such humor along with so many losses. I’m constantly awed by their stories, with the things they’ve lived through and the actions they’ve taken. With heart. With determination. With unending, powerful love.



I’ve met families with riches and families on welfare. Families of many colors, religions, levels of education. I’ve met adult children who grew up having to chase their mother down the street while she was in a manic phase; wives who had to play Santa Claus when their ill husbands were suddenly hospitalized on Christmas Eve; brothers who have lost the sibling who once taught them to ride a bike; sisters who get twenty confused phone calls a day from the big sister who used to help them with their homework and is now living on the street but refusing help.



I’ve met people who spent their life savings, mortgaged their homes, drained their retirement accounts in order to try a new treatment for their relative, or afford a few months in a private facility that either seemed promising or was simply the only alternative for post-hospital care. I’ve met parents whose children were missing for weeks, sometimes years; husbands who had to chase down their wives, around the world or across the country, after a disappearance sparked by mania. I’ve met people who have lost their loved ones to suicide.

Many of the families I meet have other children – healthy children, “normal” children. Luckier children. Mental illness, contrary to embarrassingly recent thought, is not the fault of the parent. It is a biological illness of the brain. That fact - that proven, medical fact - is a major hurdle for many family members to accept, for it means two contrasting things: one - that you didn’t do anything wrong. The illness is not your fault; two – that your relative really, truly is ill. You cannot “fix” this any more than you could “cause” it. You have so much less control than you wish you had.

With that said, though, families find that there is still much that they can do to help. There is empathy, understanding, advocacy. There are limits to set, programs to learn about, ideas to set in motion. That help may or may not be accepted by your loved one, but in the meantime, you can – you must -help yourself. There is grief – so much grief, so much loss. But there is also hope. You must live your life in between the storms.

opening chapter, the book

This post updated January 28, 2011 - because the "right publisher" has come to us! Rowman and Littlefield will publish Ben Behind His Voices: One Family's Journey from the Chaos of Schizophrenia to Hope in August of 2011! Thanks to Claire Gerus for repping this, and to R&L for believing in it. Please go to www.randyekaye.com to sign up for updates on the book, or join the facebook group Ben Behind His Voices, the book.

Back then I wrote:
The right publisher will help bring hope and understanding to the many families – one out of every four, in fact – who live with mental illness every day.

A young man stands before you. Diagnosis: Schizophrenia.

Is the situation hopeless? No. Is his life worthless? Absolutely not. Is he about to pull out a gun and begin shooting? Despite what the media would have you believe, the answer is still no.

Did his family stand by, helpless and confused, as he fell into pieces bit by bit in ways they could neither understand nor control? Well - yes. Unfortunately, yes.

But is recovery also possible? Can the broken parts be pieced back together? Also – with education, support, acceptance, and love – yes. YES.

I will post excerpts from the book here on this blog, so that others may begin to hear the story. If you want to know more, please follow.

This is from Chapter One:

It’s the night of the Great Northeast Blackout, August 2003. I sit in the ER waiting room, watching my son Benjamin, 21, recently diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. He stares at his feet, mumbling to himself, possibly to voices only he can hear and whose existence he always denies. Ben glances up at me now and again, his lips in a faint smile but his eyes clouded and unreachable, and then returns to his inner conversation. Suddenly he looks up once more, this time to address the elderly woman seated in another hard plastic chair across from him, coughing violently.

“Excuse me, ma’am, are you all right?” Ben asks.

he woman smiles. “Yes, son, I’ll be OK. Thanks.” She takes a sip of bottled water; her coughing calms. Only then does Ben abandon the battle to stay focused on the outside world, and give in to the voices. Not until then does he return to his own internal world of psychosis. This, I can tell, is a relief for him.

He’s still in there, I thought. He is worth saving.

This was to be Ben’s fifth admittance to the psych unit in six months. It also marked the beginning of his recovery - and the start of my family’s road to acceptance of his illness. No Casseroles for Schizophrenia outlines that journey, from the bewildering and ultimately terrifying arrival of symptoms, through the crises of psychosis and hospitalizations, and finally to the “new normal” of recovery and hope.

Schizophrenia is arguably the most misunderstood mental illness; certainly no one comes to your door with casseroles when your child is hospitalized with this illness, especially after the first time it happens. But a person with schizophrenia is a person still worth loving – and that love helps immeasurably on the journey to recovery and acceptance.

All is not lost.