Book review: Overcoming OCD: A Journey to Recovery. By Janet Singer with Seth J. Gillihan.

Today I have the pleasure of reviewing a book written by a woman who I met through blogging and who has inspired me with her advocacy for educating others about OCD.

The book is Overcoming OCD: A Journey to Recovery, by Janet Singer with Seth J. Gillihan.

Janet writes a blog called ocdtalk, where she discusses her experiences as a parent of a son with OCD and their journey to find help. She also keeps readers updated on research being done on OCD. And she is an advocate for Exposure and Response Prevention therapy, the leading therapy for OCD.

In her book, Janet writes about Dan’s journey from being unable to eat, from lying on the floor for days at a time, caught in the snares of OCD, to reaching a diagnosis of “mild” OCD and being able to have a fulfilling life.

Dr. Seth J. Gillihan is an expert in treating patients with OCD and other anxiety disorders. In addition to having a clinical practice, he is a clinical assistant professor of psychology in the Psychiatry Department of the University of Pennsylvania and a visiting assistant professor of psychology at Haverford College.

Gillihan gives readers the “facts” about OCD: what it is, what the symptoms are, what treatments are available, what problems people seeking treatment might face, and more.

The abiding theme of Overcoming OCD is hope. But Janet isn’t feeling much hope when her story begins. Her son Dan has struggled during his first year of college, and Janet visits him to try to help.

She is shocked by his haggard appearance and his obvious anxiety. And she is shocked when they reach the motel where she is staying, and he is unable to climb the concrete steps up to the second floor.

Step by step, slowly, she helps him up the steps. Then he says he’s unable to come into the motel room. She pulls him into the room.

“And so our journey began,” she writes (p. 2).

Janet knew her son had OCD, but she had never seen it manifested in such debilitating ways. Dan couldn’t eat, couldn’t use his cell phone, couldn’t drive, and couldn’t go to certain places. His promising future in animation—a dream that he had had for years—seemed in jeopardy.

Janet and her husband Gary and the rest of their family rallied around Dan and supported him on his road to recovery, which was never linear and never easy.

Dan spent about nine weeks in a residential OCD treatment center, and Janet and her husband struggled with staff who seemed to be leading Dan to a life of lower expectations. The treatment center did give Dan a good foundation in ERP therapy, providing him with tools to fight his OCD.

The family moved to Dan’s college town so that they could be there to support him. He saw a number of doctors and was on a number of medications. Side effects of some of those medications put Dan into a medical crisis and delayed his recovery.

Janet learned to speak up and ask questions of Dan’s caregivers. She did her own research. She interviewed perspective doctors to find the right fit for Dan. She supported Dan in the tenuous dance of being independent but getting the help he needed to fight the OCD.

And she and Gary remained Dan’s cheerleaders and advocates, supporting him unconditionally without enabling him in his OCD.

I read Janet’s blog, so I know that Dan is now doing great, with mild OCD. He graduated from college and has a job that he once dreamed of.

But as I read her book, I felt a taste of the anxiety that Janet and her husband felt as they watched their son sink so low that they never thought he’d come back. I felt the anger at the lack of caring and lack of knowledge that some so-called experts displayed in treating Dan.

I also wanted to reach into the book and tell Dan, It’s going to be OK. I guess that comes from my own experiences with having OCD and having to fight my way to better health.

Janet’s story makes it clear that ERP therapy, sometimes with, sometimes without medication and other therapy, can help those with OCD become more than their OCD. They can live fulfilling lives despite having OCD.

But she shows that one must search for and sometimes fight for good mental health care. Her story makes it clear that there’s still so much education needed of even medical professionals about how to best diagnose and treat OCD.

Gillihan’s explanations are very helpful, especially for those not familiar with OCD.

I really didn’t want to put this book down after I started it. It’s inspirational, absorbing, and just a plain good story.

Parents with children who have OCD would particularly benefit and would be reminded that they are not alone in their journey. The beneficial role that family support can play is well illustrated.

I would also highly recommend this book to anyone who wants to know more about OCD and to those with OCD. I found myself relating to so much of what Dan experienced.

Throughout the journey that Janet and her family took with Dan, family friend and clinical psychologist Mark was a godsend, a person who offered information and hope to the family. In her book, Janet writes, “If you are going to have a mental health crisis in your family, I recommend having a close friend who is an amazing clinical psychologist” (p. 25).

I would add that having a family like Dan’s would help those suffering through a mental health crisis see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Overcoming OCD: A Journey to Recovery is published by Rowman & Littlefield. 2015. For information about ordering the book, go HERE.

Sharing our secrets

Our second batch of leaves awaiting town pickup.

So many more leaves left to fall.

Somehow, I let my blog anniversary pass without remark. Nov. 14 was my third “blogiversary.” The time has flown by for me. I really have a hard time grasping that I’ve been a part of this blog community for so long.

Before I wrote my first blog post on Nov. 14, 2011, I had never shared a lot about my mental health with others.

As I began posting on the blog, as much as I wanted to be as open as possible about OCD and depression, it was difficult for me to decide what to share and what not to share, and how to express myself.

I had spent a good portion of my life hiding my OCD. Occasionally, I shared with a friend that I had OCD, but I never offered details about what that meant for me in my daily life.

I was a little more open about my depression because that seemed to be a bit more acceptable to others, but, again, I shared few details with others.

I have become more comfortable writing about how OCD and depression fit into my life and how I deal with them. I am more comfortable sharing how I live my life while “bringing along” these mental illnesses.

Recently, I discovered that talking about OCD with another person—speaking about it instead of writing about it—is a whole different experience for me.

As I was talking with this person, I felt more self-conscious about revealing the details about OCD than when I write about them.

Just speaking out loud about OCD jarred me. I heard the words coming out of my mouth, giving explanations about obsessions and compulsions, and I thought, “This disorder is weird. What is this person going to think?”

The experience was a positive one, and I’m glad I talked about OCD. Each person I talk to, each person who reads my posts, may learn a bit more, may understand this “weird” disorder a little more.

And if the person is experiencing OCD symptoms, then maybe he or she can be encouraged to get treatment.

I was reminded that sharing such secrets—which we could argue shouldn’t be secrets because having OCD is nothing to be ashamed of—with others isn’t easy.

We have the right to privacy. There is nothing wrong with keeping close to our hearts things we don’t want to or need to share with others.

But for me, sharing my secrets can help show others they are not alone.

Have you ever found relief in revealing a secret?

Let’s be aware

This week (Oct. 5-11) is Mental Illness Awareness Week, a week dedicated to raising awareness and educating people about mental illness.

There is so much more awareness about mental illness now than when I was younger. I remember being told as a child that certain people were in the hospital because they “had a nervous breakdown.” And it was usually said in a whisper.

I had no real idea of what a nervous breakdown was. But it sounded bad, like a loss of control, like something to pity. It definitely sounded like something that should be kept a secret.

In reality, it was a secret kept by people who thought having a mental illness was something to be ashamed of.

When I was first diagnosed with OCD and depression in my mid-20s, I was ashamed. I thought if others found out, they would think I was deficient, weak. So I told only a very few close friends and family. Even with them, I brushed it off as just a little problem that I was taking care of with medicine.

The secretive way I handled my mental illness kept me from getting the full help that I needed.

For example, I didn’t want to get into a lot of therapy, including cognitive behavior therapy, because I’d have to ask off from work. How could I ask off for a doctor’s appointment if I didn’t look physically ill? I wouldn’t lie about it, but I couldn’t be honest either.

Several concerns kept me from getting the treatment that I needed when I was younger, but my fear of being stigmatized was part of it.

Nowadays, people talk about mental illnesses much more openly. Advocacy and education are still necessary—there are a lot of misconceptions out there, a lot of blaming—but the atmosphere for discussion has improved.

With discussion, stigma can lessen. We can ask each other questions and listen to each other’s stories. We can learn that we’re not the only one feeling certain feelings and thinking certain thoughts.

We can learn that we’re not alone.

Being aware is a big deal for me. So I’m happy to lend my voice to awareness of mental illness this week and beyond.

For more information about mental illness, check out the website of the National Alliance on Mental Illness.

Oct. 9 is also National Depression Screening Day. If you even think you’re depressed, please get screened and get help. And pass the word to your friends.

Let’s all be aware.

Contentment

Happy October! Now that we’ve started the first “full” month of the new season, it really feels like fall to me.

I’m writing about contentment today.

I’ve never had a desire for great excitement or daily adrenaline rushes. I’ve just wanted peace.

For me, peace is a contentment with life. It’s not a life where everything is necessarily going well, or where I’ve reached big goals.

It’s a sense of well-being, a belief that whatever life throws at me, I will handle. It’s the ability to enjoy the moment while moving toward accomplishments I’m passionate about.

I’m feeling more like that lately. With the help of my husband, my cat, my mental health treatment, the people in my day-to-day life, and you, dear readers, I am sturdier on this path I’m on.

I’m not expecting all smooth sailing up ahead. I have far to go and more battles, I’m sure.

But I am believing more in myself and my ability to build that big life—which is really a full life—that I’ve wanted.

Nature is one of the ways I connect to life. I feel a part of something bigger. Even the little bits of nature are beautiful to me.

On that note, can you stand a couple more photos of acorns?

It’s raining acorns here. At least, that what it sometimes sounds like. I sat in the car the other day and just listened to them fall, bouncing on the driveway and ground.

Larry continues to work on gathering them and getting them off the driveway. I loved this pile he made. It looks like the perfect supply for some hungry squirrels or deer.

I noticed an acorn lying flat on the bricks outside the door on my way to work one morning. That evening, I picked it up and was fascinated by the view of the inside of an acorn. In this photo, Larry is holding it up for me to get the shot.

Knitting is still going on inside the house. I bought a larger size pair of needles and some chunky yarn and started another scarf. This one is blue, a color Larry picked out. I love the flow of the bigger needles and yarn.

I’ve been feeling more content lately, and for that, I am thankful.

What has been making you content lately?

Anguish, but Hope

“Opportunities to find deeper powers within ourselves come when life seems most challenging.” Joseph Campbell

  Lately, I haven’t been as consistent as I’d like with my blogging. I debated with myself about this post. I don’t want pity, and I don’t want to whine. I just want to be honest about where my head has been. And perhaps there are others out there who are going through similar upsets or who can relate and know they are not alone.

As you know if you’ve been reading this blog for a while, I experienced a jolt to my emotional and mental sense of well-being this summer. My mother attempted suicide, and my reaction to her act was like an emotional explosion.

I began remembering things that I haven’t thought about in years, memories of my childhood and teen years, memories of my mother. I began thinking of familiar memories from a different perspective.

I made the decision to not have a relationship with my mother, at least right now

As a result of all of this, I feel like I have been peeled down to my core and have been left wondering, who am I?

My mother taught me certain things: I wasn’t good enough, I wasn’t creative, I was lazy, I was selfish, I was like “a lump on a log.” If others knew what I was really like, she’d say, they wouldn’t like me.

Who am I if I don’t view myself through my mother’s eyes? If I don’t believe what my mother said I was, who am I?

It has been a difficult time. I have done a myriad of things to soothe my soul. The bedtime anger has lessened. Probably someone seeing me in my daily life would note no difference in my demeanor.

But just the other day, while I was taking a shower, I became infused with anger. It felt like it was burning me, like my heart was going to burst from it.

I cried because I didn’t know what to do with the anger. There’s no one to foist it upon. No one deserves it. Certainly no one wants to hear all of it.

One thing I’ve been doing to deal with it is journaling, some by hand in a lovely book Larry gave me, and some on the computer.

When I’m angry or upset or very anxious, writing on the computer suits me better: it’s faster, and the sound of the keys clicking helps to calm me.

Much of what goes in my journal is for my eyes only. But here’s a bit of what I’ve written lately.

It’s personal. It’s embarrassing. But it’s a way to show what I’m thinking:

I am stuck. I am sad. I am depressed. I am lazy. I am immobile. I do what I have to do, absolutely have to do, and a little of what I want to do, and then it’s sleep. It’s nothing. I have a nothing life. I have a small life. And I don’t know how to get a big one. I want a reason to get up in the morning. I need something to push me through life. Oh, God, have mercy on me, please.

And then later:

My past is over. I am 51 years old and it’s time to do what I want to do with my life. Not selfishly. But I need to stop adding that. “Not selfishly.” I am not a selfish person usually. It’s OK that I want to do something with my life that makes me happy and content and in the flow. I want to be in the flow. I want a good life, a big life.

What is a big life to me? I’m not yet sure. But it’s more than I’m living now. It’s doing what I want. Doing. Things. I. Want. To. Do. Loving others. Being honest. Being compassionate. Helping to make the world better. Being in the flow. Being in the flow. Not letting fear and fatigue stop me. Not letting depression or OCD or anxiety stop me. Living in spite them. Living a big life in spite of them. In spite of my past. Living a big life.

Yes, I’m struggling. But I have hope. Things will get better. I am putting one foot in front of the other, every day. I will get better.

I will learn more about who I am and how to be in this world so that I have a positive effect on those around me.

Part of my journey is rethinking how I’m spending my time and what I’m writing. With that in mind, I’ll be starting a new posting schedule, changing to two times a week, Mondays and Thursdays. I won’t post again this week, so I’ll be back here on Monday, Sept. 8.

I’d like to devote Bringing Along OCD to the subjects that I originally started out with. I want to use this blog as a form of mental health advocacy.

The importance of getting treatment for mental illness

Sometimes I get emails from readers of my blog, asking me for advice on how to deal with OCD, other anxiety, or depression.

I am always happy to tell them what works for me. I am not a medical professional, but I do have personal experience with mental illness and treatments. So I try to share.

One thing that I’ve noticed is that not everyone is in treatment or even thinking about treatment.

I’m not going to make a blanket statement and say if you have a mental illness, you need to be in a certain kind of treatment.

But I will say this:

If you are having a difficult time coping with daily life, if life seems dark and just gets darker by the day, if you have intrusive thoughts, if you are abusing substances such as alcohol, if the ways you usually cope with the bad times aren’t working, then I believe you need the help of professionals.

For more information about when to seek help, check HERE and HERE.

When I first got therapy, I didn’t have health insurance. This was back in 1988, and I was a graduate student in Ohio.

With the encouragement of a friend, I contacted student mental health services at my university and started seeing a psychologist on staff. It was the first step in understanding the pain I had been in for years. It was the first step in a very long journey to a new way of being.

I was able to see this psychologist free of charge because I was a student at the university.

Eventually, she told me she thought I needed the help of a psychiatrist for my continuing depression and for the OCD symptoms that I finally revealed to her. She referred me to a doctor in a nearby town.

I paid out of pocket to see the psychiatrist, who gave me my “official” diagnoses of depression and OCD in January 1990. I was 26 years old.

I started taking medication while continuing my talk therapy with the psychologist.

I slowly began to see light at the end of the tunnel.

I moved back to Virginia in July 1990, and it wasn’t easy to get the mental health help I needed. I wouldn’t have health insurance for three more years.

But I worked with what Virginia has, a community system of mental health professionals which I could access on a sliding scale. In other words, they looked at my income and billed me according to what I could afford.

It’s not a perfect system. Not all mental health professionals are created equal. But I got some individual help and even took part in some group therapy.

I went for long periods of time without active therapy. I stayed on my medications and had good times and bad times.

I read Dr. Jeffrey Schwartz’s book Brain Lock back in the 1990s, and that helped me a lot with OCD. I began to learn more about meditation. I read a lot about mental health. I began to understand how spirituality didn’t have to be a hindrance or a burden, but could actually help. I began to understand how my relationships with family members and others hurt me rather than helped me.

Eventually, five years ago, I decided that I needed therapy again, and my family doctor recommended my current psychiatrist to me. He encouraged me to get some help from a psychologist on staff, which I did.

I delved deeper into studying and writing about OCD, and I learned a lot about how the disorder was affecting my life.

My mental health has probably improved more in the past five years than in all the years since I saw my first therapist in 1988.

I know the health care system in the United States is not always kind to those who need mental health services. I am blessed to have insurance that covers such care.

I encourage anyone who is having a difficult time mentally to reach out for help. To find referrals to mental health professionals, you might want to start with your medical doctor, a social worker, a teacher, or a minister or rabbi or other spiritual leader.

Make sure he or she is someone you trust and who understands the needs of those with mental illness. Walk away if they don’t take you seriously or try to minimize your problems.

Look on the Internet for help. For example, on the website of the International OCD Foundation, you can find a lot of information about OCD as well as a database of therapists who can help those with OCD.

Other online resources for finding treatment providers include Mental Health America and National Alliance on Mental Illness.

The right treatment can put you back on track. It can enable you to live the life you want to live.

That’s what it did for me.

Note: Where have my photos gone? I haven't been taking many photos lately, but I am working to change that and will have photos with my posts again!

When life seems to fall apart

So much has happened since I last posted. I have struggled with the best way to write this post.

What has guided me in writing it is my belief that I must be honest with my readers, and I must also be honest in order to chip at the stigma that surrounds what I’m about to tell you.

About 10 days ago, my mother attempted suicide. She is 86 years old and lives in an assisted living home with her own room. She took what she described as a handful of sleeping pills on a Thursday night. She was found unconscious by the home’s staff the next morning and taken to the hospital.

The assumption was that she had had a stroke, though when a neurologist examined her, he thought otherwise.

All through the day that Friday, she became more and more conscious. That evening, she told me, my husband and my oldest brother what she had done.

My mother has been depressed for my entire life. She has mostly been untreated. She has taken antidepressants off and on, but she always stopped taking them.

With this incident, she spent three days in a mental health ward. She was diagnosed as depressed. She was deemed not to be a danger to herself and released to go back to her assisted living home. She is not seeking additional help.

Why she did what she did, what she wanted to do—all of that is her story. I can only truly tell you my story.

I have done a lot of reading about the aftereffects of attempted suicide and suicide. But this is not a post about how to care for the one who attempts suicide. It is not about recognizing the signs that someone is contemplating suicide.

Frankly, I’m not in the position to be able to write such a post.

But you can find information about suicide and suicide prevention HERE.

This post is about the messy, emotional aftermath of a suicide attempt by a family member.

Even though I have been familiar with the world of mental health issues for years, I still had a hard time imagining that someone in my family, someone that I knew, would attempt suicide. So I was first shocked. Then horrified and afraid.

Over the last 10 days, I have had a lot of conflicting emotions swirling through me. But the main one has been anger. White hot anger that has made my chest feel like it’s full and about to explode.

And hate. Hate and resentment and bitterness and anger have filled me up.

If you have been reading my blog for a while, you know my relationship with my mother has never been easy.

Even with that history, my emotions have surprised me and made me feel guilty. I don’t want to be a person who hates. I don’t want to be a selfish person.

Thankfully, I have talked with some wise people who have reminded me that it’s OK to feel this way and that it’s best not to deny the way I feel. I won’t always feel these emotions.

And perhaps others who have been in this situation have felt the same way as I have and felt the same fear about revealing that to others.

So I am revealing it to you.

I’ll be back on Wednesday with a better explanation of what some wise people and some quiet contemplation have helped me to understand.

In the battle against fatigue: Diet

I’ve written lately about my battle with fatigue: a sometimes overwhelming tiredness that I feel that lends itself to lack of motivation and procrastination.

Besides tiredness, I have also been experiencing the following on a regular basis:

*bouts of diarrhea

*terrible heartburn, especially when I eat bread, chicken, or potatoes

*bloating

*skin irritations

As I said in Friday’s post, my doctor and I discussed my problems with fatigue, and one of the things he suggested was to change the timing of my depression medication.

Another thing we discussed was my diet. I asked him how much validity he put in the idea that one’s diet could affect one’s mental health.

He said he had patients who had changed their diets—mostly giving up wheat and other sources of gluten—who had experienced positive results. In conjunction with medication and/or other treatments, he believed certain changes in diet might help.

I don’t believe in throwing out whole categories of food unless a person has real medical issues. For example, according to the website of the National Institutes of Health,  people who have celiac disease cannot consume gluten because they have an immunereaction to gluten, a protein in wheat, barley and rye.

I don’t have celiac disease. And I don’t have symptoms that are anywhere nearly as bad as those with celiac disease.

But I’ve wondered if I may be sensitive to gluten.

Perhaps it’s really a matter of too many simple carbohydrates. Maybe it’s a problem with wheat.

I already know that milk irritates my digestive system. Cheese and Greek yogurt don’t. I’m allergic to tree nuts.

I decided to try eliminating, as much as I can, gluten from my diet for a week or two to see how I react. It won’t hurt. If I feel better, then I can add back some foods gradually and get a clearer idea of whether or not food is affecting how I feel.

I had no gluten (that I know of) Sunday. For breakfast, I had a cup of Greek yogurt.

For lunch, we ate at our favorite Mexican restaurant. I had beef fajitas and ate just the meat and vegetables and a little of the beans. I didn’t eat the tortillas.

For dinner, I had the salad pictured above: Romaine lettuce, carrots, red kidney beans, apples, and pickled beets. After I took the photo, I added cheddar cheese and some tuna salad that Larry had made. I also added balsamic vinaigrette dressing after making sure it didn’t contain wheat.

No heartburn. No digestive issues. It’s too early to tell about the tiredness.

I am motivated to try this. Saturday was a bad day for me digestively. I knew what had caused at least of the problem: I had eaten some doughnuts.

As I lay down to rest, I decided that I’d had enough of feeling so bad. I needed to find out how to help myself.

Right now my plan is to stay away from gluten and to follow the new medication timing.

Have you ever found that a certain food, or group of foods, negatively affect how you feel?

Despair and an angel named Sharon

I cried at the bad news. I cried when there was no news. And finally, I cried at the good news.

I’ve cried a lot in the last two weeks.

Sometimes I couldn’t stop crying. The tears just poured out. And one day, the particularly bad day, I knew the tears were part of a larger problem.

I learned once again that physically, I have to be on antidepressants and on the right dose of antidepressants. My depression is a medical problem, an illness.

I wasn’t sure if I should share this story. I don’t want to appear weak. It’s not easy for me to admit how dark life can seem sometimes.

But this is a blog about my journey through life with mental illness. That journey sometimes turns dark. Without warning.

Part of what I’m here to say is that if you feel that darkness, you are not alone. You are not alone. And it can get better.

Over two weeks ago, on July 20, I dropped off the prescription for my antidepressant at the pharmacy. I had run out of refills, but my doctor had given me another prescription at my last visit.

The pharmacist tried to fill it but told me that my insurance company wouldn’t authorize payment for the prescription because of the dosage.

This was nothing new. Periodically my insurance company does this. I take a higher dose than the usual, so every so often, my doctor’s office has to talk with the insurance company and get approval. The only problem is I never know when this is going to happen.

The pharmacist said she would fax the doctor’s office the request for authorization. They wouldn’t get it until their office opened on Monday.

I was OK. The pharmacist gave me a few of the pills to last a few days so I wouldn’t go without while waiting.

By Wednesday, I hadn’t heard anything, so I called the doctor’s office. I was told they were waiting on the authorization.

I won’t bore you with all the details of what followed. In summary, the doctor’s office kept telling me the authorization hadn’t come through. The pharmacist gave me all the pills she could without filling the prescription. The price for the prescription without insurance was exorbitant.

I started taking half my dose to save pills.

I did all I could to hold on, to keep fulfilling my responsibilities, to interact with others as normally as possible.

I found out fairly quickly that half the dose of the medication was not doing the job. My anxiety was sky high. I’d become aware that I was clenching my hands in tight fists. I had a hard time focusing. I had trouble sleeping.

I was simultaneously so depressed that all I could think of was how hopeless my life was. I was sure my life was never going to get back on the right track. I didn’t want to live.

Last Friday morning, I had a panic attack.

I sat on the bed and sobbed. My chest and both arms hurt. The pain made me breathless. I remember thinking that perhaps I was having a heart attack. And I didn’t care.

By Monday afternoon, I decided to do something besides wait for others to fix my problem.

I decided to call the insurance company myself.

I talked with a woman named Sharon.

“We can fix this,” she said after hearing my story and looking at my record.

She called the pharmacy while I was on the phone, then came back on the line and told me again that she would fix it so I could get my prescription. She would call me back, hopefully that day.

“If you can take care of this, you will be my angel,” I said.

“Well, I’m going to be because I’m going to call you back today,” she said.

And she did. She fixed it. I picked up the prescription Monday night.

I learned a lot about self-advocacy during this episode. There’s a lot I want to say about that. But I’ll save that for another post.

For today, I’m just thankful for medication that keeps the scary depression and anxiety at bay. And I’m thankful for angels named Sharon.

Have you received help from any angels lately?

Mental illness in pop culture: “Silver Linings Playbook”

Larry and I recently went to see the movie “Silver Linings Playbook.” I had heard that the movie dealt with mental illness, and I was anxious to see how it was portrayed.

In the movie, Bradley Cooper plays Pat, a man newly released from a mental treatment hospital where he has been a patient for eight months.

Pat had undiagnosed bipolar disorder when he arrived home from work one day to find his wife, Nikki, in the shower with another man. Pat beat the man almost to death, and as part of a plea agreement, he entered the mental hospital.

At the time of his release, Pat resists taking his medication, and he insists that having a positive attitude, getting in shape and becoming a different person will win back his wife and his old life.

This doesn’t seem too likely because Nikki has a restraining order against him, and Pat is allowed no contact with her.

Meanwhile, Pat’s father, played by Robert De Niro, has lost his job and his pension and is bookmaking in order to make enough money to start a restaurant. He is consumed by the Philadelphia Eagles and how well they perform. He’s insistent that Pat being back home is going to bring him good luck with the games.

Pat meets a friend’s sister-in-law, Tiffany, played by Jennifer Lawrence. Tiffany is a recent widow. She hints at suffering from depression before her husband died, and after he died, she chose some very self-destructive behaviors.

Pat and Tiffany begin a friendship. Both are broken in their own way, and they understand each other in ways that others don’t. But they have their moments, such as when Tiffany senses that Pat thinks she’s “crazier” than he is.

Eventually, Pat asks Tiffany to give Nikki a letter from him, and Tiffany agrees to do it provided Pat participates in a dance competition with her.

I won’t give away any more of the plot. But we see Pat and Tiffany both make changes in their lives, and they come to understand themselves and their families better.

I thought the movie portrayed the hardships of mental illness very well. We see the confusion, worry and helplessness Pat’s family experiences as they learn to live with their son again.

We see the pain that Pat has as he faces his friends and acquaintances after having spent time in a mental hospital.

I don’t have bipolar disorder and I’m certainly not an expert. But I was impressed with Cooper’s portrayal of a man who seems captive to his emotions, who can’t seem to stay focused.

I especially liked how the movie portrayed the changes in Pat. He begins to take his medication, without fanfare, but with commitment. He goes to therapy. He exercises. He practices dancing, which he admits helps his focus and his discipline.

We see him improve over the course of the movie, and it’s due to all of those things as well as the relationships that he forges with family and friends.

The only quibble I had about the movie’s portrayal of mental illness was the way OCD was handled. Twice, Pat refers to his father’s superstitions and rituals about football games as “OCD.” I don’t know if De Niro’s character had OCD or not—it’s hard to tell. But those rituals were front and center in a lot of the storyline, and his problem seemed glossed over in the plot.

I recommend “Silver Linings Playbook” as a good movie in its own right, and a realistic portrayal of a person suffering from a mental illness.

Have you seen “Silver Linings Playbook”? If so, what did you think of the way it portrayed mental illness? If not, how do you think pop culture in general portrays mental illness? What needs to be improved?

Update on the foot

Thank you for all the kind wishes, thoughts and prayers that you sent my way for the healing of my foot!

I saw the orthopedic doctor on Monday. He told me that the break started out as a stress fracture but is now something called a Jones fracture.

He said it’s going to take a long time to heal because it’s in an area of the foot that doesn’t have a good blood supply, and one of the ligaments in the foot pulls across the fractured area.

Sometimes this type of fracture doesn’t heal, and surgery has to be performed to insert a screw.

For the next three weeks I need to continue wearing the boot and I need to keep weight off of it as much as I can. I’m struggling to use crutches. It’s exhausting to get around on those things!

I go back to see him in three weeks, and he’s hoping to see some new bone growth.

Let’s hope I won’t need surgery!

A day at home and thoughts on health

Today I stayed home from work, sick with sinus problems, including a bad headache. I took medicine and slept much of the day away.

But I also thought about the way I think about my physical health and my mental health.

I was inspired by a post Madison of My Meddling Mind wrote about the importance of taking care of both our physical health and our mental health, and how they affect each other. I hope you’ll take time to read it.

I am vigilant about taking my medication for my OCD, depression and anxiety. I make sure I don’t run out before getting a refill.

I see a psychiatrist and a therapist. And I take steps to work on my mental health issues on my own.

I’m not perfect with taking care of my mental health, but I am much more proactive with it than I am with my physical health.

I worry much less about running out of my blood pressure medicine. I’ve been known to go a couple of days without it because I’ve delayed picking up a refill.

I eat pretty healthy, but I eat too many sweets and processed foods, and just too much food period.

I don’t move around enough. I need to have an exercise plan and stick to it.

  What does my blood pressure medicine and my diet and exercise habits have to do with sinus problems?

Maybe nothing. But my time off today gave me time to think about my physical health and how I need to do a better job with it.

Just one day of lying around has left me feeling a bit dull and a little depressed.

The physical affects the mental.

And that’s not to forget my spiritual health because that’s important too. When I get too busy with “stuff” and don’t take time to do my spiritual reading and meditation, I can tell.

It can seem overwhelming to have to think about so many “parts” of our health. But all the parts roll into one and represent how we live.

How can we do our best for our health?