Stand up and be counted

On an optimistic note mental health is getting quite a bit of attention during this election campaign.

There's a GetUp campaign working with Australian of the Year Patrick McGorry to draw attention to the actions that need to be taken to address mental health care needs in this country.  (If you sign petitions, this is a good one.)

There was even a candlelight vigil in Melbourne attended by hundreds of people who felt that the issue was important enough to turn up to on a cold winter's evening. There are more planned around the country too if you're interested in joining in or hosting one yourself.

Usually the things I write about in this blog tend to be, well, a bit of downer really don't they? I guess that's inevitable given the subject. So it feels good to be able to point to something and say look, there's some positive action being taken. People are talking about mental health. It's not in the shadows any more. We are not alone, sadly, not by a long shot.

Grand designs

I'll be the first to admit that I'm a schemer. Grand plans pop into my head, I obsess about them for varying lengths of time. Some come to fruition and others waft away on the breeze like dandelion seeds.

Here's one that keeps recurring.

I want to go and live overseas for six months. I want to go back to the country where I was born (warm, small, far away from here).

I want my son to learn the language and know a little of where his mother comes from. I want my partner to understand that not all of my ways are about my personality; that some of them are cultural.

It's daunting to think what packing up our lives, flying around the world, finding another house and settling into another country where he doesn't know the language will do to J. I know it will be hard for him to cope.

He can't bear talking about the future, making plans. Accapting a dinner invitation a week away is overwhelming. With regard to this idea, he can't get past what we will do with the cat while we're gone.

Don't get me wrong; I love the cat too. But I'll figure it out for her, and us.

If only I can take a breath deep enough to let the instant negativity wash over me. We won't have enough money. Six months is too long. You're not realistic. What about the cat? I don't want to talk about it. There's too much to sort out. I just want to relax for once.

On the other hand, do I want to carry around the resentment that will surely build if we don't do this? I look around and see how the people I admire are not held back. They have ideas and they try them out. Sometimes the outcome is not what was planned. Nonetheless, they are not standing still, treading water.

Which is what is happening to me, to my life. We get by. I am so sick of just getting by.

Where have your grand plans gone? Have you jumped in anyway, made them happen in spite of the limitations? Are you putting them on hold?

Flo

Mental as anything (or fun facts for federal elections)

Down here at the arse end of the world (an affectionate term from the mouth of an ex-prime minister, really truly) we're suffering through  in the midst of a federal election campaign.

I thought it might be interesting to compare mental health policies from the three main parties. (Quick summary: Labor is in power here, Liberals are currently in Opposition, the Greens are far smaller but look set to possibly hold the balance of power in the Senate which is our Parliament's house of review.)

In fact their plans all look very similar. The general idea seems to be to provide more early intervention and more support for people within the community. It all looks very good on paper. I'm looking forward to watching Insight tomorrow night (SBS) where they're focussing on how the parties are planning to tackle mental health if they win office at the end of next month.

What would really help J in terms of his depression would be subsidising what I guess you could call complementary therapies: a gym membership, massage, weekly counselling sessions (as opposed to monthly ones, covered to a point, for six months and then subject to review), Chinese medicine (which J has had much better success with than with anti-depressants).

I'm very glad that funding is going to acute mental health services. But I wish there was something out there for the stuff we live with every day. J manages to get by. He still has a roof over his head. He takes care of himself as much as is required to get by in society. He can go on like this until he dies (early) without qualifying for any help at all.

I'd be keen to know of any initiatives that look interesting to you. Or if you're not in Oz, what kinds of programs are offered in your country which you find particularly useful (or otherwise)?

Flo


PS - Here are some quotes lifted directly from the ALP, Liberal and Green Party websites.

Labor:
•the Government will provide $57 million over four years for more flexible individual care packages, supporting clinical and non-clinical care, for up to 25,000 people with severe mental illness living in the community;

•the Government will also invest new funding of $13 million for more mental health nurses to provide services in the community and support clinical care for people with severe mental illness;


•$617.5 million currently being provided for successful community-based services for people with severe mental illness and their families such as Personal Helpers and Mentors services, Support for Day to Day Living, and Mental Health Respite and Community Based projects, will be linked and coordinated with the primary health care organisations being established as part of the National Health and Hospitals Network.
 
The Government will invest new funding totalling $78 million over four years in up to 30 new youth-friendly mental health centres, extra funding for the existing 30 headspace sites, and improvements to telephone and web¬based services for young people.


This investment will support an additional 20,000 young people a year once the new sites are up and running.


A total of $25 million over four years will expand the Early Psychosis Prevention and Intervention Centre (EPPIC) model– a holistic service aimed at addressing the clinical and social support needs of people aged 15-24 with emerging psychotic disorders currently operating only in Victoria.


The Commonwealth will partner with interested states and territories to expand the model to new locations. With state and territory contributions, this will benefit up to 3500 young people through improved detection, earlier treatment and support for early psychosis.


The Government’s new $1.6 billion investment over four years in sub-acute beds will include support for more people with severe, episodic mental illness to access the care that they need.


Liberal:
For the first time, the Coalition’s Real Action Plan for Better Mental Health will provide a nationwide network of staged care to assist Australians access quality mental health services and pursue productive and fulfilling lives. This will include:

20 Early Psychosis Intervention Centres;
800 mental health beds; and
60 additional youth headspace sites. The headspace sites were established by the former Coalition Government in 2006. They provide one-stop-shops for young people aged 12 to 25 years with information and services relating to general health and wellbeing, mental health and alcohol and drug services.


The headspace sites will be supported by the Early Psychosis Intervention Centres.
 
Greens:
37. increase funding to mental health services in collaboration with states and territories, particularly to prevention models, and hospital and community-based support, assessment and suicide prevention services.
38.establish properly resourced, strategically located 24 hour community mental health services, staffed by the full range of mental health professionals.
39.expand community-based support services and agencies to enable people with chronic mental and/or physical illnesses, and their carers, to live in and participate more fully in their communities.
 
$100 million for funding of community prevention and recovery centres
• $145 million for early intervention programs
• $100 million incentive payments to provide services for the most vulnerable in our community.

"Under our proposal existing Medicare mental health schedule fees would be supplemented by incentive payments for GPs; consulting psychiatrists and psychologists working together to provide additional access and services for the most needy, vulnerable and long-term clientele working within community and NGO sector.


"Every hospital-based mental health service should be linked with a multi-disciplinary community-based sub-acute service that supports ‘stepped' prevention and recovery care. $100 million would pay for 60 community-based services with 8-12 beds per centre.


"We need a national network of one-stop shop community mental health centres accessible by public transport and centrally location, 24 hour on-duty and on-call mobile crisis teams working as part of primary health care organisations. There needs to be additional training for GPs and nurses to triage mental health appropriately, and there should be a mental health professional on 24hr call within every emergency department.

"We have already called on the government to fund early intervention mental health programs including: Communities of Youth services, early psychosis prevention and intervention services, Lifeline suicide hospital discharge and treatment plan and a new Lifeline freecall number," Senator Siewert said.

 

Oh What a Beautiful Mornin'

And just to prove that there's no rhyme or reason to the pattern of J's depression, this morning should have been in technicolour for all its cheesy, happy, look-at-us how wonderful we are vibe going on.

Today the three of us caught the same train into town - J on his way to work and T and I to have banana bread and meet up with friends at a park.

We chatted. We talked about our visit to the Blue Mountains last year. T and J laughed a lot.

People on the train smiled (because of course my kid is incredibly irresistible but quite apart from that) because people generally smile at happy family scenes and curious articulate toddlers reminiscing like old men about the good old days in that yellow thing without wheels (cable car) and we should really do that again shouldn't we?

For a finale you couldn't have written a more touching farewell between father and son - enormous hugs, a kiss and then as we alight onto the platform, a turn, a wave and "I love you daddy".

And that's what we looked like, and indeed were this morning. A happy family. Beautiful. Even though it was wet and cold outside our mornings don't get better than this.

I have absolutely no idea how this came about, this stunningly wonderful normal looking happiness. I'm not extrapolating anything from it apart from the joy of the moment (and the memory of that joy, but no expectations certainly).

Do you have times like these? Had any lately that you can live off until the next one?

Flo

Don't take it personally

Really, even though you're the one on the receiving end. It's not about you.

It's not about you when they ignore you or take offence at everything you've said, misrepresent your words, take them out of context, use they to prove their theory that life is indeed totally fucked and everyone hates them.

It's not you.

If you were being fired from a job or dumped by a lover, then it's a ridiculous phrase. It's a way to opt out of the arduous task of being both honest and kind. Of course it's about you.

Explanations are what people want. And they're hard to give but they're a mark of true respect.

We're letting you go because our company is cutting back and you are the highest paid employee. We're letting you go because we want people who can commit more time to the job.

I'm breaking up with you because I need someone who's more into the things I'm into. We don't have the same interests any more.

It is personal, but it narrows it down. It's not because I'm incompetent then. Or unloveable.

Depression on the other hand? The way you're being spoken to, engaged with - it's really not personal from the point of view of someone in the throes of depression. Caught up, crushed. All energies focused on the basics of existence.

It wouldn't matter who you were, how you behaved, what you wore or did or said. It still wouldn't be about you. It couldn't be.

And so I am not taking it personally. Even though it's turning me into that crazed woman in her backyard muttering profanties at the compost heap. (It's not about me. What an arsehole. Every god damn thing has to be a huge drama. I don't need this.)

Even though that's what I need to do to get through it, then I get to walk back in the house as if nothing has happened (because it hasn't, not really).

And I don't walk back in until I'm done with whatever I'm doing out there; something I can focus on totally (planting those beans that have been sitting in the shed for six months this time around).

Back inside I can be quite separate from his anger. Small price to pay.

What about you? What does "don't take it personally" meant to you, personally?

Flo

Hot and bothered

Just when I thought I was safe, wrapped up in winter thermals, deeply unattractive socks and a thick layer of stay-at-home-housewifery, desire has managed to poke through again, like a tenacious weed through a carefully laid garden bed. (You see? I didn't have to choose those words did I?)

I thought I was truly okay with the absence of sex in my life (yes, we're back to that) but for some reason that I can't fathom, suddenly I am not. Suddenly people are sparkling with that electric possibility again. Words are laced with flirtation. And I want to come home and jump someone's bones. I really do.

But I hit a wall. How did I forget that wall? Gosh it hurts. Goodness gracious it's annoying. Maybe this is the impetus I need to take up running again.

I was half listening to an interview last week with the Archbishop of Melbourne and he was talking about celibacy. He doesn't think that physical intimacy is a "basic human need" as suggested by the interviewer.

"What I think is the important point that both of us would agree on is that we all need friendship, companionship, support," he said.


I throw myself into friendships, work, parenting. All these things benefit from a passionate aproach and are very rewarding.

But there is no equivalence for me. They are different things. I am a physical creature as much as an emotional one. And much as I find the combination of love and sex a wonderful thing, I also have no problem with the separation of the two.

So this is one big sacrifice for me, giving up sex. It's like Lent all the god damned time. Challenging enough in a relationship which does involve sex - pretty excruciating in one that does not.

And it's the middle of winter so no cold showers.

There endeth the bloody great enormous whinge.

Flo.

Lost: friend

A while ago I wrote about a friend of mine who was in a violent relationship. Tonight I lost her as a friend.

She was coming around for dinner. She asked at the last minute if he could come and I was forced to state my position at that moment; which is that I don't want him to come here, to my house. I don't feel safe around him. I don't judge her but I do judge him.

Her position is that they've worked through it. They spent the last six months working through what happened and they're moving beyond it. She says that if I can't get past it then it's my loss. And if she has to choose then she will always choose him. (Though I don't think I asked her to choose. But did I?)

It was awful. I heard the anger in her voice. And I saw her filing me with everyone else who made that decision before me.

Do I really feel that people can't change? Is it possible that this man who behaved so aggressively is capable of never doing that again? At what point are people allowed to leave their past behind and move on, as she says he has?

The truth is that my decision was not about her at all. It was about me and my family. I don't want that man in my house. I don't want him near my child. What if the situation deteriorates between them and he comes around here looking for her one day?

I don't want to be part of a world where one person can do that to another. Or at any rate, I do not want to bring any more of that world into mine than already exists. (Doubtless there are domestic situations in my sphere of acquaintances that I know nothing about.)

I admit I am afraid of allowing the possibility, the very whif of violence into my house. If this man is capable of dragging someone by the hair, slamming them up against the wall, chasing them around a house, how do I know where his limits are?

Maybe I could meet him somewhere in public, in a group of people, where I wasn't force to make conversation with him for an entire evening. I want the opportunity to do this without pressure. Although even then, how can I speak to him knowing what he's done? How can we ever be friends?

There was one thing she said to me that made feel afraid for her. Made me feel sick to hear. She said that her mistake was telling me about what had happened; that my rejection of him was her fault and she took responsibility for that.

Now I'm afraid that she won't tell anyone next time.

I feel sick and sad that I have lost this friendship. This woman was there during my labour. She was there at the very beginning of T's presence in this world. She supported me through a time of fear and pain. And I have now shut her out. I don't know how to help. I fear I've done the wrong thing and yet I am afraid to do anything different.

Flo

Now is the winter

It's bloody freezing here in Sydney. More so if you're inside our house. And I mean that in the literal sense (not being clever about being frozen out of J's thoughts while he's down).

It's had a weirdly positive effect on us. I know you're going to think we're a bunch of hippies when I tell you this, but we all sleep in the same bed. There are enough beds for everyone, it's just that we prefer to be together - or at least until one adult gets a toddler kick in the head too many. And then the adult simply shifts to the single bed at the foot of the big bed, in the same room.

Cosy isn't it? Or certainly in winter it is. We don't have heating, just a lot of doonas and body warmth. It's always like one big camp out around here.

And it kind of counters the lack of touch in my relationship with J. It's a big part of his depression, a reluctance to be touched. When he's down he flinches if I move forward suddenly or stretch out a hand towards him. Even when he's well he's still quite wary of physical contact with anyone.

But when we all sleep in the same bed it can hardly be helped. And because of the cold he seems okay with that.

How's that for putting a bright spin on things?

Flo