


Recently, I had an opportunity to attend a NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) conference for mental health consumers (consumers is the term used rather than calling people "mentally ill"), with a group of people from our local Consumer Council, of which I am the acting secretary. There were six of us; we all received scholarships to go, either from NAMI or from a state government agency. The scenery was idyllic, and I took a number of pictures. The scholarships were all-inclusive, paying for the rooms and the food, which is something I am really grateful for, as I wouldn't have been able to go without that assistance.
There were a number of speakers from the Department of Children and Families, Value Options (an HMO in Florida), the government's Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA), and other places. My favorite workshop was on the topic of "social inclusion". You don't hear those words very often in every day conversation, but the term is something we all need to think about more often. I was happy that the speaker, who works for a Florida agency, was also a consumer himself, as were most of the other speakers too. In this particular workshop, he made the point that people with psychiatric disabilities are the last group in our society which people feel that they can discriminate against without consequences. The civil rights movement changed things for African Americans (to some degree, though I know not enough), the women's movement has conquered some of the barriers women face (though not enough yet, and it's not over), many organizations demand equality for the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender community. But who is fighting for equality for people with mental illnesses? We are. There is a need for more of us, and it's a big need.
The speaker discussed, as well, the terms we use to describe people who have mental illnesses. He said what I have thought for years. He said he is not just "mentally ill" with a sickness that comes and then goes. He is disabled, by a condition that is permanent, but which does not keep him in a hospital or at home in bed all day. He said he aligns himself with the disability rights community (hello! I did that because I had a physical disability before I knew there even was a mental one, so I am really familiar with disability advocacy, and to me, that includes psychiatric conditions), because he has a "psychiatric disability". I have liked that term best for a long time, for the same reasons. I'm not able to work full time, both for psychiatric and physical disability reasons. I don't tell that to a lot of people, because I don't primarily define myself that way all the time, and because people are very judgemental creatures most of the time.
But I like that term. I think it's an accurate term. And I think there is a very big need for more mental health advocacy, and more awareness and education on mental health issues, and more research, and, obviously, more funding for treatment. Florida is considering a $98 million budget cut right now which would have extremely detrimental effects on those of us who need services. There will be fewer beds, longer waiting lists, more people not getting their medication at all, more people on the streets, more people in jail, people who need help. Is anyone in Tallahassee listening to us? I'm not so sure the legislators are. I know that people in the Department of Children and Families care about their budget being cut, and that organization sponsored this conference I just went to. But the people whose votes matter, the people in whose hands are other people's lives, the ones who make the decisions on the laws that govern our healthcare and lack thereof, well, I really don't think they listen much at all. But perhaps I'm just not in an optimistic mood.
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