*If you read my book, you know that I have personified mental illness, and his name is Berman. If you didn’t read it, this is relevant information for the following article. But that is all you need to know to make sense of this character.
I was in my yard today, thinking about how my inside dog relies on me to take him outside. He can’t go out without me. I have the power to keep him inside until it’s convenient for me (not that I ever do that, of course). I had that thought and for less than a minute I wondered what that must feel like.
Then, I abruptly remembered that I have been in the same position before. The hospitals in which I was kept allowed patients to go outside for ten minute intervals very few times a day, but only if they smoked or had been on their best behavior. I want you to know that my family had no idea about this and had little control over what happened inside those walls.
In one of the hospitals I was locked in a tiny room by myself, guarded by two large men so I couldn’t get out.
I didn’t see the sun but once in the few months I stayed in that hospital. A few months in a room alone with your thoughts and fears feels like an eternity.
I know what it feels like not just to be denied access from the sun, but also to be locked in a “cage” for longer than I care to remember.
I plotted my escape every minute of the day, and several times outwitted the guards and forcibly let myself out, once even tearing the sleeve off one of the guards’ uniforms.
But by escaping that cage, I was reminded of the larger one I wouldn’t escape, unless by some miracle I was able to “behave.”
Asking a woman having a psychotic episode to behave and then punishing her for not cooperating by keeping her inside is unjust and inhumane.
Sunlight has healing powers. I just had to learn how to be powerful without them. I befriended myself when there was no one else. I became well acquainted with her on a deeper level than many people ever reach with themselves. Ultimately, that is where I gained my strength.
The “cage” was so small, and Berman took up most of the room. When I found my strength and continued to fight, he grew smaller with time. Then, he really stood no chance of defeating me.
My advice to you is to befriend yourself so that Berman will shrink into the background of your life, and you can remember who you are without him. Love yourself. Take care of yourself. Never let Berman lead.
Be strong. Stand tall. Join the conversation that will help you cope with your emotions and assist your loved ones. You are not alone. Carry that message in your heart, and spread it wherever you go, to everyone who needs to hear it.
—SJB
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