Supported Housing: One Giant Leap for Ben

I'd always been under the impression that when Ben was ready to leave his group home, he'd be gradually weaned off the 24-hour staffing to, perhaps, 16 or 12 hours of supervision. But no. Ben's recent accomplishments, notably lasting six whole weeks at his new job, have forced the issue of getting him "graduated" from supervised housing to the next step. Evidently, there is no middle ground in our state. The next step is living alone. Yes, he qualifies for a med nurse to show up twice a day and carry out doctor's orders for supervision of meds.  Yes, there is help "if he needs it" in the office a few blocks away.  But still. While I share and applaud Ben's accomplishments to qualify for this next step, I am also as concerned about this change as I am happy for him.

Tomorrow, he moves. First and last month's rent? He only has part of it.  Most of his benefits were withdrawn almost as soon as he received that first paycheck.  So guess who has to make up the difference? What do people do who don't have parents to help them?

Furniture? He needs a bed, a table and chairs, the basics of life.  So much need, so soon, with nothing in the bank to pay for it now. What if he had no family? What do others do? I think we'll be making daily visits to Goodwill for awhile. Our family has unlimited love to give, but definitely not unlimited funds. Far from it.

Ah, the thrill of the challenge. But finding furniture, and stocking Ben's fridge, will be the easier part. How do I stay away from the fear: What if it's too much for him? What if, after seven careful years of building his life back up, this is too much independence, too soon?

"Hope, Respect and Dignity" : One CT Doctor Writes about Mental Illness

Bridge House, CT

In a recent article in the Stamford Times, Dr. Michael Basso writes about the need for those non-medical elements in treatment for mental illness. Things like Hope. Respect. Dignity. And, yes, even Humor.

He spoke at a mental health day center, where many in the group were homeless. He found that the above elements created an interactive, respectful, fun session. Here's what he had to say about humor:

"I cracked as many jokes as I could before and during the talk and got the patients engaged in having fun. They were also encouraged to make relevant jokes -- perhaps the most important innovation of all. The laughter put them further at ease and the jokes engaged them in ways that helped return control back to them -- called having an internal locus of control"

Lionel Ketchian, Happiness Club

This reminds me of the Happiness Club, which began in Connecticut but now has spread internationally. Lionel Ketchian, its founder, runs a meeting at Bridge House ("a Clubhouse which is modeled on the Fountain House model of psychiatric rehabilitation.

Schizophrenia and a "Great Personality" - possible? Yes!

This marks one month of employment for my son Ben.  One full month! He loves his job.  He has an answer when people ask him "What do you do?" The increase in his energy and pride is thrilling. Really. Thrilling.

Do I worry, still? Hmmm. Well, let's just say I'm keeping my eyes open for signs of stress. And simultaneously trying to stay grateful in each moment. I don't call Ben to see if he has gotten up in time to go to work - but the thought occurs, several times a day. NAMI has taught me that letting go is part of what parents must do - all parents, actually, but it's a more intense process when you've seen your child led into the mental hospital more than once. Letting go, slowly.  Learning to trust his abilities, slowly.  He has earned it.

Ben said yesterday that his manager told him he was hired because of his "great personality":  friendly, "good with people." Wow. What a long road to this place. I know who my son was before the illness (brilliant, charming, loving, funny); I also know how he was when in crisis (mostly unreachable).  To see Ben's personality re-emerge - tentatively at first but more strongly now - is indescribable.

Schizophrenia and other mental illness symptoms come in two categories: Positive (added to personality) and Negative (taken away from the personality).  The latter is as heartbreaking as the former.

Mental Illness and Work: Capability, Dignity, Small Steps

Three hundred people showed up to a job fair this month for seasonal work at Connecticut's only zoo. Twenty people were hired, and one of them is my son Ben.  Why is this such a big deal? Because Ben hasn't been hired for a job in over eight years, since before his first hospitalization for schizophrenia. I am so overwhelmed with surprise and pride at this news that I realize I hadn't even dared to dream that this could happen yet for Ben.  In recent years, he'd begun to succeed in college part-time (the fact that he is starting to know what he can realistically handle is a huge step in itself.)

So much of Ben's growth in recovery has happened in these small steps that this huge leap into the work world scares me a little - yet I know (and keep reminding myself) that this is Ben's journey.  My questions - will this be too much stress for him? will he be able to wake himself up every morning when he has to get to work by 8:30? will his schoolwork suffer? - are ones I must keep to myself, and trust my son and his team of caseworkers to handle the answers without me.

But - over-riding all this is the wonderful pride I see in my son's eyes.  The value of having an actual job, of feeling useful, of being wanted for what you can offer: yes, indeed, priceless.  Ben, who while in the throes of the onset of his symptoms wrote that work was a "government plot designed to enslave us," has now changed his mind.  This week he wrote this:

If I were to give one piece of advice to the reader of this 'message', I would say that in order to get to where you want to be in life, what you have to do is walk the path.  Now, I understand that this probably sounds easier said than done, and - I won’t lie- it is. I now have goals for my life, and I must be willing to actually perform the steps that the goals require. One way to make this easier is to learn from one’s past, and embrace the lessons which will make walking the path easier. - Ben, 2011

A huge question, though, is one that no one on his team seems to be able to answer correctly - what, exactly, will be the effect of this minimum-wage job on Ben's benefits?

Ticket to Work: The Road to Self-Sufficiency, fingers crossed.

Ben has a chance at a job. A real job. Minimum wage, yes, but for him to make it to a second interview, and then to a possible job offer for the summer...well, the tears I feel remind me that I hadn't really even dared to dream this for him.  Ben hasn't had a job in eight years, since he was twenty years old.

He is so excited - it's the validation, the possibility he may be able to earn money, be useful, have something to say about his life other than "I live with roommates and do volunteer work" and - lately - "I go to school part-time", a miracle in itself .  He is also facing, suddenly, questions like:

• What will come up in a background check? Will the employer know about my hospitalizations and diagnosis?
• Will I lose my SSDI? SSI? State help? Medicare? Medicaid?
• What is a "Ticket to Work", and do I have one?
• Will I lose respect and the chance at this job if I reveal my diagnosis?

Practically, I was able to find answers by calling Ticket to Work, and by visiting the Social Security Work Website
The emotional questions are the ones that are more difficult to face

Family to Family

Back to teaching NAMI's wonderful course, Family-to-Family. As always, the love and confusion, the bravery and frustrations of these families amaze me.

Yesterday I taught an acting class; one student, wheelchair-bound, was accompanied by his father who took notes, gave physical aid and emotional support. Parents who are "awarded" the responsibility of a child with a disability, whether physical or mental, face many of the same challenges. These parents will not be able to look ahead to the day when their child is totally independent. There is no clearly defined light at the end of any parenting tunnel ...but when your child is disabled, that light is dimmed even more.

Still, the love is evident.

My child, who is 27, can at least walk by himself; he can, when balanced by his treatment, do many things without me. Sure, we still drive him to saxophone lessons, supplement his meager income, take him grocery shopping. He may never be totally on his own. But there is much to be grateful for.

A terrific novel, exploring the family role when there is disability, is Jodi Picoult's Handle with Care. Love is complex, unpredictable, immenseley valuable, and not always easy.