Wednesday, October 15, 2014

How Body Intelligence Can Promote Mental Wellness

I strongly believe that every person should have a keen sense of "body intelligence."  What is this?  For me, it is understanding how my joints work, how to stand with a relaxed posture, how to move freely and with flexibility, how my body responds sexually, knowing what kinds of sports and/or exercises my body prefers, and so forth.  But it doesn't stop with the physical.  Body intelligence affects virtually every aspect of our lives.  What clothes look good on me?  What fabrics feel good against my skin?  What colors look good?  What kind of shampoo should I use?  What kind of weather do I prefer?  How heavy are the bags I carry around, and am I comfortable with that?  What kind of food do I prefer?  How does what I eat affect me?  On and on and on.  Every aspect of our lives has a physical component in one way or another.

How did I find out about body intelligence?  For me, the route was music.  I began playing the violin in first grade, and continued until I was eleven.  I was a very tall girl, so by this age, I was playing a full-sized violin.  I continued to grow, and the instrument remained small.  I felt cramped.  And the high E string irritated me, causing discomfort in my ear.  I had a very "heavy" grip with the instrument, which suggested that I would do well on the viola.  And so I did.  The viola is still held on the shoulder like a violin, but it is slightly larger and plays lower notes.  It was perfect.  My heavy grip was nicely accommodated, my arms could stretch out in comfort, and I could continue my musical journey.  I played viola in high school, and then went to college at the large conservatory at Indiana University in Bloomington.  Home of the Hoosiers.  (Note: I never went to a single sports game.  Such is the musician's life.)

College was a wake-up call.  In high school, I was a big fish in a little pond.  Always the best.  But when I hit college, that was no longer the case.  I realized that there were flaws in the way I held the viola.  My "heavy" hold was actually due to tension, a musician's worst enemy.  Holding the instrument with tension in any part of the body can cause repetitive strain injuries like carpal tunnel syndrome or tendinitis.  Poor "technique" also results in reduced dexterity, speed, and facility in playing.  During my IU stint, I studied with a few teachers who all had significant input on teaching me how to "relearn" how to hold the instrument.  I also took a body technique class with a woman who was experienced in kinesthetic modalities such as Alexander Technique, Feldenkrais and Pilates.  This process of relearning viola technique allowed me to respect my body with an almost meditative reverence.  Playing the viola became a kind of yoga.  It was all terribly fascinating.  No longer was my body a frustration.  It became this work of art.  A sculpture.  A moving statue.  My body contained lines and joints and ranges of motion.  My imagination ran wild.  Near the end of my time at IU, I cared less about the music I played, and more about my posture and how I held the instrument.  I came to believe that the sound a musician made was less important than how he/she appeared on stage visually.

At one point, my awareness of my body was brutally skewed.  As a child and young adult, I was always incredibly thin.  But in January of 2009, I started taking a medication that made me gain 90 lbs.  It was devastating.  My body had completely changed.  I turned into a different person.  Only after 2.5 years did my psychiatrist "allow" me to get off this devastating medication.  The weight stopped going up, but it remained nevertheless.  In February of 2012, I made a commitment to lose weight.  As I exercised, I began to learn more about my body once again.  How it moves.  Where it was weak.  Where it was strong.  When to rest.  When to push.  Listening to my body.  And I changed what I ate, reducing my calories significantly.  At first it was rough.  But as I got used to my new diet, my stomach started to grow more intelligent.  How many calories have I eaten?  How much more should I eat?  Should I have an apple or a carrot?  The more I got to know my stomach, the more we got along.  And the more we got along, the easier it became to lose weight.

I realize now that, as different parts of my body become more and more intelligent from exercise and diet, my brain can find respite from the incessant rumination endemic to mental illness.  I always used to worry about what I looked like.  What others think of me.  Unsure if I looked ugly or unfashionable.  But now, I have body intelligence.  My body tells me if it is comfortable.  If it is uncomfortable, I can "listen," and it intuitively tells me what it needs.  Instead of thinking about being fat, I just think in the moment.  Maybe I'm hungry.  But do I want a banana?  Do I want salmon?  Do I want celery?  A Luna bar?  How much before I stop?  My body tells me.  Regarding ugliness and appearance, I could stand with better posture.  That could speak volumes more than just simply changing clothes.  This whole process of developing body intelligence also creates "mind intelligence."  This term is cumbersome though, so we can just call it intuition.  I think that if people had intelligent bodies, we would have greater intuition.  And with intuition, we would all be less insecure.  Because intelligent bodies and intuitive minds want to be comfortable.  Balanced.  They want to maintain homeostasis.  

I want to tie this in to a topic specifically related to mental health:  MEDICATION.  We have both sides.  Some people find medication to be beneficial and necessary to maintain mental health.  Others find medication to be unnecessary and downright evil.  In my opinion, there is a lot of confusion out there.  People who are crippled with fears and delusions will read articles saying that schizophrenia recovery in third world countries is higher than in the first world, and they have less access to medications.  A person who could benefit from medication will then adopt a strident attitude, all in the name of "freedom."  But what is freedom?

I think one step towards freedom is developing body intelligence.  Because an intelligent body doesn't only know how to exercise and eat and dress fashionably.  It also knows how to "interpret" the medications we ingest.  I'll share my observations.  With a new medication, there may be noticeable adverse side effects, like weight gain.  But instead of waiting for weight gain, you could potentially sense a difference in how food sits in your stomach after you eat.  Or maybe your stomach starts feeling like a black hole, whereas before it felt like a pillow.  I'm using "odd" terms to demonstrate that this body intelligence process can be an incredibly creative one.  Medications can do the same thing.  Maybe there is a new medication that causes you to feel "like a slug."

Of course, many will stop right there.  Down with the pharmaceuticals!   Down with prescriptions!  It's quite easy to assume that a foreign substance in a body is an unwelcome one.  But I beg to differ.  Based on my personal experience, I find that medicine actually increases my ability to access my body intelligence and my intuition.  Before finding the right medicines, I was crippled by schizophrenic delusions, tactile hallucinations, anxiety and depression.  My intuition stood no match against the absolute convictions coming from my ailing brain.  But once I got on better medications, my mind cleared.  I was able to start exercising.  And the more I exercised, the better the medications worked.  And about a year and a half ago, I believe I truly found the exact balance of meds that now allow me to work at my 100% best.  These medications do not diminish the quality of my life.  They enhance it.  I feel in control.  I wake up, and I feel an excitement and a zest for life.  I feel patient and tranquil.  I feel excited and loving towards my friends.  I feel sexual fulfillment because I am able to choose partners that I am fully attracted to, instead of "following the crowd" on what's attractive.  And I feel motivated and ambitious in planning my future.  Without medicine, attaining homeostasis was impossible for me.

I challenge all of you who are only on one side of the fence.  Too often, we feel the need to choose one side or the other.  This is natural.  But do know that the mind is flexible.  And the more flexible we make it, the healthier it becomes.  Of course, I tend to analyze things into the ground.  Discussions like these often exhaust my friends' brains.  But for me, I am energized.  Musings like this give me a passion for life.  But if this article enervates you, then make an attempt to discover what energizes you.  That will help you learn more about yourself, how your body works, how your mind works, and so forth.  The goal of all this is to achieve overall wellness.

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Howie the Harp Graduation and Beyond!

A milestone of an event occurred today... graduation ceremony from Howie the Harp!

This year, I completed the 500-hour training course at Howie the Harp, and am now 2/3rds done with my internship.  This graduation was a time where we came together to celebrate our successes thus far, and also to encourage ourselves in our new career as peer specialists.  Among all the keynote speakers and class speakers and this and that speakers, I was invited to go up to the front and play my guitar.  I performed an original song that I wrote, called "Muse."  It went over well.

Right now, though, I would like to avoid making this blog entry resemble a "journal."  The purpose of this blog is not for me to share or vent my personal musings here.  There is more to be accomplished than that.  Everything written here should return to the ultimate purpose I would like to reach towards. The ultimate purpose of educating readers in how to think about mental health issues creatively.  

Yes.  Creatively.  Too often, I hear opinions on both sides.  "Medications are evil!  They destroy lives!"  or  "Meds are the only way!  People should have access to them!"  Many persons are on one side or the other.  Their personal experiences dictate their opinions, and very few persons can put themselves in the other sides' shoes.  I always wonder: why are people so inflexible?  Why are people so confident that they have the answer?  Why do people think they are correct, and that dissidents are wrong?

It is a good thing that there are many people who are passionate about the mental health field.  Whether they agree or not is irrelevant.  It is actually good that there are people on both sides, because this prompts dialogue.  If everyone agreed on the issues, no one would find it necessary to converse.  Debate not only serves to educate, it also keeps the mind fresh.  Fresh, because one needs to always devise new arguments, new angles of perspective to prod the opponent's views in weak spots.  Through disagreement, we grow more intelligent.

Go Howie grads!  Let us go forth and share our stories, opinions and ideas.  That is what I plan to do.

Monday, October 13, 2014

What's In a Name?

To break the ice in this blog, I thought I'd play a little game.
A game that introduces you to me, and how my mind works.

To me, there is always an underside to every statement.  At least, "artistically crafted" statements.  What's an "artistically crafted" statement?  Basically anything I write.  hah.  Song lyrics.  Poems...  Conversational nothings.  There is a statement's face value, and then its underside.  Or multiple undersides.

Let's take the title of this blog, Let Them Take Pills.  On first impression, this might remind you of Marie Antoinette's statement, "Let Them Eat Cake."  Imagine though, that it is not Ms. Antoinette, but the pharmaceutical companies.  They look down at us with disdain.  They want to make money off of us.  They invent illnesses that describe our distasteful behavior, and then make us take medications to cure these behaviors.  Ha.  Let them take pills.

But this statement can be interpreted another way.  What if you don't know about Ms. Antoinette?  What if you just interpreted it literally?  Let them take pills.  Ok.  If someone wants to take pills, then they're free to do so.  No reason to stop them from taking their pills.  Let them take their pills.  Truly, this is my personal opinion regarding pills.  Live and let live.  If you want to take pills, that's perfectly fine.  I take mine, and I love them.  They have changed my life incredibly.

Let's try another way.  Let them take pills.  Who?  That group of people over there.  The mentally ill ones.  The ones who are crazy.  They need pills.  But not me.  Let them take their pills.

Or:  Let them take pills.  Give them pills, because if we don't, then they'll "self-medicate."  They'll smoke pot, they'll have promiscuous sex, they'll abuse their children.  Make them take pills before they do something worse.

Or:  Let them take pills.  Huh?  Oh yes.  Medicaid.  They give us disabled slackers free pills.  We don't buy our pills.  We take our pills for free.  Yes.  Let them take their pills.  Lord knows, they didn't earn them.  They're not buying them.

As you can see, you can shine a light on a sentence, and it shines back many different colors.  Like a prism.  In my opinion, a well-crafted sentence, or paragraph, or document is like a prism.  It can be viewed in many different ways, by many different people, and it will mean something different to each person.  Music can be like this too, or visual art, or dance.  For me, the process of trying to discover many ways to interpret one sentence, or song, or painting makes my brain stronger.  More flexible.  And as my brain gets stronger, I become more open-minded, and also more resilient.  More confident.  More well.  More in control of my recovery.

In closing, I would like to say also that we can view people this way too.  Challenging!  But we must realize, that each person is not only who he/she is at face value.  Like a prism, or a diamond, there are many facets.  Some facets are vulnerable, some facets are fierce.  Some facets are very private and should be left in the darkness, other facets are hidden but brilliant when exposed.  We need to view each other flexibly... is that a word?  I tend to make up words.

Yes.  If we are flexible in the ways (more than one) that we view people, we understand them better.  We are also more forgiving of their flaws.  Because when there is a flaw, one only needs to shine the light in a different direction for another shimmer to happen.

This is one way to understand my idea that "I like to look at both sides of the coin at the same time."  Perhaps impossible.  Not even the sun can shine on two sides of a coin equally at once.  But the human brain CAN.  And even if it can't, it can TRY.  And in that process of trial, it becomes stronger.  More confident.  More well.

*****

Disclaimer:  I am not a trained therapist.  Not an MD, not a PhD, not a PsyD.  I am a peer.  And proud to be such.


Sunday, October 12, 2014

Flash Fiction: "Child"

She hides behind me.  The little girl holds my hand for safety.

"It's ok, dear.  No need to hide."

She shakes her head no.  She never speaks.

She goes everywhere with me.  I have a one-night stand, she is curled into a ball in the corner of the room watching me with a lump in her throat.  I have another one-night stand, she is hiding under the computer desk watching me with water-logged eyes.  I am in a car with a strange man, she is crying noiselessly in the front seat.

She goes with me everywhere.  She is my child.

But now I have met a new man.  He notices her hiding behind me.  He is the first person who has ever seen her.

"Hey sweetie... look what I have for you."  He gives her a daisy and tells her she's a beautiful girl.  I close my eyes as he stands to kiss my cheek.


When I open them, my baby is gone and the flower is in my hand.

Saturday, October 11, 2014

Flash Fiction: "Obedience"

I understand love when my father yells at me.  He first beckons me to come close to him, so that he may share some important information only intended for my ear.  I trust him, and I also fear his coffee breath.  No words are exchanged.  I only receive a good boxing on the side of my head from his clenched adult fist.  I bleed.  My ear clogs.  Quite a lot of information for me to process.  Pain, but lovingly numbed and cushioned by liquid love.  Directly from the heart.

(c) Neesa Sunar 2014

"Introduction to Author" and "Purpose of This Blog"

Greetings!  If you have found this page, congrats!  You will be privy to my ideas and musings regarding the mental health field.  What authority do I have?  Well, I am *simply* a peer.  What is a peer?  A person who *simply* has personal experience dealing with mental illness.  Yes, I have a diagnosis.  Yes, I have suffered for over twenty years.  I like to say that, while my psychiatrist has an MD, I have a PhD in "insanity."  College?  The University of Neesa Sunar.  Dean?  Me.  Valedictorian?  Me.  Last in class?  Me.  Student population?  1 person and 40,000 people all at once.  The triune God of the Bible ain't got nothing on me.

I will introduce the logistics of myself briefly:

Name: Neesa Sunar.
Age: 28
Credentials for writing this blog: 1) Mental health services recipient for 20+ years (as earlier stated).  2) Recently trained as a "peer specialist" by Howie the Harp Peer Advocacy Center, and now embarking on the career path of "peer."

Did I say briefly?  Read on if you long for something more verbose:

I have an extensive background as a classical musician.  Specifically, the viola.  I studied viola at the undergraduate level at Indiana University, whereupon I was awarded a Bachelors of Music in viola performance after coasting for four years.  Coasting, meaning I played Sudoku during lectures, procrastinated assignments and practiced viola as little as possible, while attending less than ten parties over the course of my entire degree.  I started a graduate degree directly afterwards, also at IU, when psychosis slapped me in the face.  I realized that my "dream" of becoming a "rock star violist" was not really something I wanted.  Forced to return to my native home of "terrible" Bayside, NY (located in that "terrible" borough of Queens), I discovered that the grit and hatred endemic to everything New York was endemic to me too.  I, Neesa Sunar, hated smiles.  Hated hugs.  Hated happy couples.  Hated the "happily ever after" that followed satisfying marriage ceremonies.  But I certainly loved the subway.  Comfortable place to sleep, don't you know.  Cradles me as well as my mother's uterus once did.

Yes.  I struggled to make use of my musical talent by teaching private lessons to children for three and a half years.  I attended a K-12 New York state music teacher certification program at Queens College, while simultaneously teaching near-full-time at a private school in Brooklyn.  Again, the stinging slap of psychosis across my face.  All fell to pieces like Humpty Dumpty, and I became disabled once again.  Ups and downs, but all under the bar of "acceptable behavior."

Much has happened since, which I care not to disclose at this moment.  The sheer joy of this blog will be the gradual unraveling of my past.  The fact that you DON'T know me is exciting.  I can present my life as a soap opera that serves to cleanse its readers, much like soap in a shower.  Do know that I currently am using a lemony bar of hand-crafted soap that I purchased in Woodstock in the summer of 2009.  A bit stale, but still fulfillingly pungent and luxurious.

I name this blog "Let Them Take Pills," which is a play on the Marie Antoinette's statement, "Let Them Eat Cake."  Whether or not she even uttered this statement is questionable.  But no matter.  The context is such:  people were starving, and her answer was that they should eat "cake," something they could not afford.  Hence: "Let them take pills."  We suffer from ill mental health, and we are given pills.  Pills, manufactured by pharmaceutical companies, exorbitantly expensive, and filled with ingredients as determined by super intelligent people with degrees and dexterous tongues, all flexible enough to pronounce jumbles of freshly-invented ten-syllable words.  I take my pills, yet I have no understanding of how they work.

This being said, my pills are my lifeline.  Years of experience with and without medications has shown me my comforts and my limits.  And ultimately, I have learned the following lesson: the foundation of my wellness is indeed my medication.  Without my medication, I am unable to reach for any degree of wellness at all.  A few painful experiences show me that, without medicine, I am unable to control my racing thoughts.  These thoughts issue commands, which are as forceful as the electric finger of God.  I am unable to rest from obsession.  My mind races a million miles a minute.  My mind cannibalizes itself, leaving me incredibly exhausted at all times.  Medication relieves this terrible state of being.  I am grateful for this miracle in my life.  At the same time, pills alone are not enough.  I have had wonderful success in my recovery due to the caring friends and family in my life, as well as the ingenious Long Island Jewish hospital system in Queens, New York.  In particular, I thank Zucker Hillside Hospital to my rehabilitation.  Also a part of LIJ, ZHH is an entire hospital campus dedicated to mental health, as well as a center for research in schizophrenia.  It was here that I was put on Clozapine.  It was here that I learned vital techniques of CBT, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy.  It was here that I participated in a weight management group that helped me on my path of weight loss.  (Weight, that was gained from medication.)  It was here that I developed the confidence to know that I am not doomed to the life of collecting an SSI check.

My story is long, and definitely not boring.  But all in good time.  At this point, I would like to communicate that this blog is a voice.  My voice.  And I do believe that my voice is different from all other voices.  How so?  Let me list the ways:

- I am an eloquent person that strives for a sense of classicism in communication.  Complete sentences, comprised of words spelled correctly.  A literary flow in all that is described, with an attempt to be both cruelly acerbic and kindly soothing all at the same time.  If you are curious of the influence of my writing style, you may thank W. S. Gilbert, the librettist of such Victorian gems as the Pirates of Penzance and HMS Pinafore.

- My particular tastes are different from most others'.   For example, I was unable to discern the difference between Billy Joel and the Beatles until about the age of 23.  As a child engrossed in the arduous task of learning the violin, I decried the satanic evils of non-classical music from the tender age of six.  Songs with few chord changes and monophonic musical textures were considered brain candy, and the reason for a dull mind.  I could never discern a single lyric over the cacophony of drum sets and electronic bleeps that strove to insult the brilliance of contrapuntal genius from centuries before.  Elitist, you say?  Yes.  Just like books are elitist.  Oh really?  Yes.  Books are elitist, because you have to know how to read in order to enjoy them.

- I have achieved superior mental health and health in general.  I daresay that I have achieved a higher degree of wellness than most "mentally well" people. Despite my diagnosis, I have managed to lose over 75 pounds of weight gained due to medication.  I continue to eat a diet of absolutely no candy or bread or grains, and I count the calories of everything I eat, every single day.  I exercise, and love doing so.  I dress fashionably, and fancy myself attractive.  I am surrounded by a thick network of close friends.  I have a gem of a mother, who has sacrificed everything in her life to ensure that I have had the best of opportunities to develop my skills and education, as well as have the freedom to express myself as I wished.  She offers me shelter and love, and I am indebted to her forever.  How many people can say that they have achieved all of this?

And finally:

- I am exceedingly intelligent.  And creative.  And ambitious.  With these qualities combined, I am an opinionated person who strives to poke the issues at angles never before attempted.  I strive to kick "opinionated giants" in the backs of their knees, crippling their arguments to the ground.  And I am fearless.  I am not afraid to criticize the medical model for forcing pills on unwilling patients.  And I am not afraid to criticize the peer movement for minimizing the benefits of medication.  I strive to look at both sides of the coin at the same time.  Impossible, you say?  I beg to differ.  1) Insanity makes anything possible.  2) If you lay the spine of a coin vertically along the bridge of your nose, you will see both sides, one by each eye.  Of course, you would look like a cross-eyed fool, but many brilliants looked foolish in their beginnings.  Dare to be one yourself.

***

Aside from blogging on issues related to mental illness, I will also share the occasional poem or creative work.  I believe that my poetry carries an innate spirit of mental health awareness.  I am sure it will please.  Thank you for your attention, and adieu.  For today.

~Neesa