Erasing The Distance

Awesome Review for FINDING PEACE IN THIS HOUSE!

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 01:31:00 +0000

Check out this amazing review for our current show, Finding Peace in This House! (Click link or read below for full review.) If you are in the Chicago area, we only have two shows left - this Mon. and Tues., Jan. 30 & 31, at 7:30pm. Don't miss your chance to see this "brilliant and moving production!"

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Distance that speaks volumes

Erasing The Distance presents

Finding Peace in This House

Review by K.D. Hopkins, Chicago Theatre Beat

They have names and faces like anyone you may see on any given day. Is she a cutter, mutilating herself to cause external pain for what she feels inside? Is she a victim of horrifying abuse by her mentally-ill father? What has she witnessed? Is she finally free of an old identity that was dysmorphic?

Finding Peace In This House left me wondering about every person that I saw on the way home. This production is the result of a collaboration with The Chicago School of Professional Psychology and it is stunning to witness.

Six monologues are given against a stark cyc wall. There are no visual projections or special effects needed. These stories are what is happening to people just like you or me every day. We were raised to mind our own business; that we could never know what goes on behind closed doors. That is simply not true. The results of unreported abuse are evident in the spike in behavioral disorders. Each of the monologues tell of loneliness and the abyss of depression that comes with suppressed memories and neglect.

The story of Brian, played by Wes Clark, is an illustration of what happens when a child is depressed and left to their own devices to dull the pain. Brian’s story is one of addiction and crime. It is unbelievable that a nice middleclass looking boy like him would grow up to be a heroin addict. Brian steals to support his habit and his decision-making faculties are not the sharpest.

One of the more poignant stories is about a young man named Matthew who has Cerebral Palsy. He was not expected to live much less walk and yet he accomplished both. Jason Economus plays the jerky movements and speech that are the external signs of Cerebral Palsy. It is a brilliant and heartbreaking performance. Economus really puts himself in Matthew’s situation. It never goes over the top nor does it descend into maudlin treacle. (I was surprised to see that the actor really did not have Cerebral Palsy.)

Ramona’s story relays how she went from a home-in-hell to homelessness to forgiveness and self-redemption, creating a safe place for others who have suffered the same. Desla Epison plays Ramona with grit and vulnerability. Ramona is an ‘it is what it is’ kind of woman who does not have time to whine or be self-deprecating.

Next, the story of Candace (Millicent Hurley) is beautifully compelling as a man journeys to evolve into the woman she has always known was inside. Hurley’s performance is subtle and gentle. It is so moving to hear of two marriages and two children forever changed by genetic cross-wiring.

The stories of the cutter and the anorexic bring up the question of control and why people do self mutilation or starvation. Depression and other related diseases don’t leave the mind in control so the resultant behavior is quite often destructive.

The after performance discussion I attended with the cast was quite poignant. They spoke of how they contacted the person whose story they were telling and what an emotional and healing experience it was. For some the healing was about forgiveness for another it was about going deeper into the person not the disorder or disease. I came away with a deeper understanding and a self vow to look beyond appearances.

This is a short run and I highly recommend that you find a way to see it. Erasing the Distance has made a brilliant and moving production out of a tender subject matter. It’s okay to look people in the eye and give acknowledgement in this day of instant information. True connection is encouraged and welcomed. You never know who you may help on their path to renewed strength and mental health.

Rating: ★★★★

Finding Peace in This House continues through January 31st at The Center on Halsted’s Hoover-Leppen Theatre, 3656 N. Halsted (map). Tickets are $10-$20, and are available at the door or online at BrownPaperTickets.com. More information at ErasingTheDistance.org.

Jenny Craig's No Friend of Mine

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 21:54:00 +0000

It's Thursday morning, and my nap-resistant son is babbling in bed. It's still a wonder to me that my body grew that little boy, and his big sister. I try to remember that whenever I look in the mirror and see that I've changed physically since having two kids and turning 40. Abs of steel? More like pot of Play-Doh.

I may not always love my looks, but I can accept with good humor what would have horrified me 20 years ago. Being middle-aged is liberating that way. I've had time to learn that looks aren't all that important. I certainly want to be healthy, but exercising and eating well for health is different than doing it to reach some arbitrary "goal weight." One carries more positive feelings, the other more anxious ones.

I know a lot about those anxious feelings. In college, I suffered first from binge-eating disorder, then anorexia, then bulimia. (Hey, I believe in diversity.) I've always sensed that the disordered eating was triggered by an underlying depression, but that at some point it took on a life of its own. I lost five years of my life to binging, starvation, laxative abuse, and over-exercising. It's really stunning how much of my energy was wrapped up in it. I was isolated, lonely, and obsessed: Was there oil in that pasta? How do I get out of this dinner invitation? What do I weigh now? How about now? The fragile "high" I got from fasting and exercise cycled with the profound shame of day-long binges. My self-esteem was on shaky ground. It all hinged on what I'd eaten that day, and what I weighed.

Although I was very thin at certain times, I was never happy. In fact, I was crushed when I discovered that being thin did not magically fill my life with love affairs and glamour. Still, I couldn't stop my insane behavior, because at that point, my body seemed like the only thing I could control.

Thankfully, I did find my way to recovery, first through a 12-step program, then through a course on intuitive eating. Recovery was a slow process, mostly because I was so scared to relinquish control. I feared that under my stringent self-imposed rules, I was an insatiable monster. Eventually, by facing one fear after the next, I learned that I could trust myself, with food and with life. Happily ever after? Not always. But at least my world opened up and my life moved forward.

This fall, 15 years into recovery, I learned that I have impaired kidney function. My doc thinks it's likely from taking lithium for over a decade. (Luckily, I stopped six years ago.) That's scary news, but not life-threatening. In fact, if I take care of myself, the condition may not worsen. So I've cut down on meat and salt, and I'm improving my sleep and exercise routines. In many ways, having a physical impairment that's invisible to others has kept me focused on the big picture. My body is so much more than its exterior—and it, like life, isn't completely under my control.

At times in my life, I've been overweight, skinny, and in between—and I'm sure others have noticed. Maybe they even drew conclusions about me that varied with my shape: "She needs to diet" or "She must have great willpower" or "She couldn't possibly have an eating disorder." But in every case, they were wrong. I was sicker and more obsessed when I was model-thin than at any other time. It was a worsening of the same illness that had initially caused weight gain. In fact, though other people may have been envying my thighs, I was envying their normal relationship with food. Even now, though I look average and unremarkable, I still struggle at times with old bugaboos like night eating and calorie-counting.

It's worth noting here that the fastest-growing type of eating disorder in America is "Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified." That's a catch-all for people who don't fully meet criteria for any one eating disorder, but who often have symptoms of many. (A common reason for this diagnosis is that someone's weight is normal, but their behavior isn't.) Our culture is so messed up about food and weight, it's no wonder eating disorders have become so complicated! And, tragically, so often invisible. Mine was.

This is why I don't get too excited by someone's weight gain or loss, whether it's Jennifer Hudson or a close friend. I know better than to believe a change in body size means a change in identity—despite what the diet ads imply with their frowning "befores" and beaming "afters." I know better than to think weight loss can fix self-hatred, or make someone more lovable. In fact, since dieting causes people to lose touch with their own body wisdom, it usually backfires at some point. The friends I most admire are those who've challenged the empty fantasy of the "perfect body" by living generous and joyful lives free from self-consciousness...and free from diets. I'm not entirely there, but I'm getting closer every day.

But the question looms large in our culture: How can we trust our own bodies? In the absence of artificial controls on our eating, wouldn't we just binge ourselves to an early grave? I struggled mightily with this question while I was recovering. What I found, through some truly difficult work, is that dieting and compulsive eating go hand in hand. My desire to reach an unrealistic "goal weight" different from my natural weight was what created the conditions for overeating. The only way out was to remove all the rules around food and start from scratch. I felt like a newborn, just learning what it meant to be full and satisfied, and how to gauge hunger.

Even harder, I had to untangle the emotional circuits that connected anger, stress, and fatigue with comfort eating. I had to practice real assertiveness, set real limits. I had to displease people sometimes, and survive that. No diet could possibly have helped me with this emotional rewiring. In fact, I'm still not done with this work, but somewhere along the way I realized I was over the hump. Trusting my body has become second nature. I've weighed about the same for five years, without even trying. And my body is my friend—it lets me know I've had enough pizza, or when I need more vegetables. Sure, Marie Claire isn't ever going to call me for a cover shoot, but I'm so grateful these days for the freedom I've gained.

While cultural influences alone don't create eating disorders, they sure can set the stage. As part of my recovery, I've formed some convictions about how weight and food issues should be handled on the cultural level. With that in mind, I thought I'd end this post with a "wish list" of body-positive changes I'd like to see in our society. A girl can dream...

1) Stop using the term "obesity epidemic," accompanied by footage of random obese people walking down the street. This is stigmatizing and dehumanizing. Body size is not a disease; it's not contagious. Nor is body size always an indication of health.

2) Stop making weight a moral issue. It isn't. Eating diet yogurt isn't "being good," and eating pie isn't "being bad." Let's reserve that terminology for stuff that matters, like how people treat each other.

3) Stop marketing diet foods—many of which aren't even healthful—to women. This reinforces the idea that it's best to eat as little as possible, and to deny yourself what you really want.

4) No more airbrushing and photoshopping celebrities! What do you think you're hiding—their humanity?

5) Stop relying on tired fat-people jokes on TV shows. Portray people of various shapes and sizes falling in love, falling out of love, succeeding at some things and failing at others—a.k.a. "reality."

6) Stop shaming people about their weight "for their own good." As I've discussed in previous posts, feeling bad about oneself often results in an initial burst of desperation, but is not a good motivator in the long term. However, self-acceptance is an excellent basis for change.

7) While not everyone can be conventionally beautiful or handsome, everyone can reach their potential as human beings. Stop making appearance the be-all, end-all of young people's lives.

Aaand, soapbox (or is that cookie box?) over. Here's wishing you appreciation for, and peace with, your body. I'm off to cook some delicious pierogi!

-Lisa

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Lisa Sniderman, LCSW received her M.S.W. from the University of Chicago in 2003 and has been a licensed clinical social worker since 2005. She is a past member of ETD's Mental Health Advisory Board and one of our storytellers. Click here to check out Lisa's previous posts.

Finding Peace in This House: Candice

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 15:16:00 +0000

Welcome to the final entry in our six-week series focused on ETD's Finding Peace in This House, which opens January 23, 2012. Today, we offer a sneak peek into the process of sculpting and performing the story of Candice.

Candice was born a male, yet she always felt like a female inside. She discusses how it felt to grow up feeling trapped in the wrong body, and how she finally came to the decision to begin the medical journey of transitioning to a woman. Candice is just one of the six remarkable people featured in Finding Peace in This House. (Click here to read about the other stories that comprise the show.)

Heather Tahler, a graduate student at The Chicago School of Professional Psychology, interviewed Candice and then transcribed and edited her story. ETD artistic associate Millicent Hurley performs Candice's story onstage. Both women share insight into their own experiences working on this project.

Heather (Story Collector):

"Working with Candice was an incredible experience and invaluable to my future work as a clinician. Hearing her story and seeing her commitment to transgender awareness was truly inspirational. I think everyone could benefit from hearing Candice's struggle and how she overcame it. I cannot describe the impact of this story enough, you'll just have to hear it for yourself."

Millicent (Actor):

Millicent Hurley as Candice

"I was thrilled when [director] Brighid [O’Shaughnessy] called me in to audition for Erasing the Distance. She initially called me in for another monologue and then she said, 'Hey, would you be up for reading one we just finished? It’s about a woman who knew from early on that she was a female in a male body.' I read a few paragraphs, and I was just sucked right into Candice's story. That’s the piece we picked for me to portray in Finding Peace in This House.

The challenge was to really understand what Candice had gone through all her life, pretending to be someone she wasn’t. I had to dig deep for the times in my life when I felt like an outsider and/or alone. I have to admit, I was quite nervous when I first performed the piece, as I knew Candice was going to be in the audience. But in the end, the actor side of me said, 'Just tell the story. That is what’s most important.' And it was. What an amazing experience."

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Please join us Jan. 23, 24, 30 or 31 for Finding Peace in This House. Advance ticket purchasers save $5.00 off each ticket! With only four performances, tickets will go quickly. SO GET YOUR TICKETS TODAY!

Healing: My Thoughts Today

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 15:30:00 +0000

In 2011, I encountered a whirlwind of transition. That transition was scary, painful, frustrating, confusing, annoying, and maybe exciting at times. It not only resulted in amazing growth, but also revealed lots of pain and scars that need to heal. Part of that process involved making the very difficult choice to step away from my career as an actor for an undeclared period of time. During this “hiatus” I’ve taken some time to focus on my mental health and do a little “creative recovery.” I’ve been very grateful for this time, as it has really helped me re-center myself and has fostered a lot of self-discovery. Recently, I’ve come to the realization that whether I like it or not, I am an actor, I will always be an actor, and acting is one of my gifts not to be taken for granted. I am starving for creativity and performance as we speak. Yet, I still have palpable pain and trauma from the way I approached acting before. I keep thinking…“I know I want to do this, but how do I do this without being hurt again?”

There’s a quote that says doing the same thing twice and expecting different results is insanity. While I’m not a fan of the word insanity, I do believe there is some truth to the quote. How can we heal, if we keep making the same choices? When we think about mental health, many of us may think, “I don’t like this part of me…I want to be different…I want to be better.” But if we don’t make changes, how can we? For instance, how can we complain about how our unhealthy relationship with food affects our lives if we are not getting help? How can we agonize over feeling alone if we don’t share with others how we feel? How can we end negative behaviors if we keep doing the same behavior every time we are triggered?

Now, before you start to say, “It is way more complicated than that, it’s easier said than done,” believe me, I know; I’ve said it. I have struggled with my mental health several times during my life, especially in the last three years. In that time, I’ve seen five different therapists and I’ve even had many moments when I felt, “To hell with therapy! I still feel like crap and no one can help me.” I feel that professional help plays an important and often essential role in the healing process. But I truly believe that healing starts with us. It begins with us making the choice to do something new. My healing definitely began with me. I shared with someone that I was hurting, that person gave me resources for help; I made the choice to go to get help, I prayed and worked on my health. Although there were several factors that contributed to my healing, it all started with me choosing to make a change.

When I discovered that I wanted to re-enter the world of acting, I instantly began to do things that I used to do. I started to think about it the way I used to think, and right away I got the same results and felt the same crappy way I used to feel. Then I realized, “Wait a minute, I’ve changed. I’m not the person I was before, so I can’t think like the old me.” At that point I decided no matter how scary, strange, or silly it may seem, I should try it another way. It worked for my mental health, so why not try it with acting?

I wish I could share that it has worked and my relationship with acting is all better, but I just reached this “aha moment” today. But I am definitely going to try thinking and doing things differently. As for the results, you’ll just have to wait and see :)

Happy thoughts,

Rhonda Marie

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Rhonda Marie Bynum is an ETD ensemble member as well as a member of the ETD Ambassador Council. Click here to read more posts from Rhonda Marie.

Finding Peace in This House: Brian

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 15:00:00 +0000

Welcome to the fifth entry in our six-week series focused on ETD's Finding Peace in This House, which opens January 23, 2012. Today, we offer a sneak peek into the process of sculpting and performing the story of Brian.

Brian is currently serving seven years in prison. He talks about how he ended up where he is today, including growing up in a broken home, using drugs, and struggling with depression. Brian is just one of the six remarkable people featured in Finding Peace in This House. (Click here to read about the other stories that comprise the show.)

Hillary Doyle, a graduate student at The Chicago School of Professional Psychology, interviewed Brian and then transcribed and edited his story. ETD artistic associate Wes Clark performs Brian's story onstage. Hillary and Wes share insight into their own experiences working on this project.

Hillary (Story Collector):

"What an amazing, life-changing, powerful process! The collaboration between Erasing the Distance and The Chicago School was a great opportunity for me, as a Clinical Psychology doctorate student, to throw my textbook out the window and better appreciate the subjective experiences of individuals who have experienced mental illness. Working with Erasing the Distance has allowed me to gain a sense of empathy and understanding of mental health issues that has surpassed the knowledge I’ve learned in my training thus far. The process of interviewing Brian, transcribing the interview, and forming it into a monologue was a rigorous yet rewarding process. Brian mentioned several times in the past that he wanted to write a memoir about his life, so when I heard about ETD, I knew Brian would be interested in sharing his story. Wes, the actor who portrayed Brian, was able to accurately tell Brian’s story and expose the confusion, depression, and anger that Brian described while telling his story. I wish Brian could have been in the audience to witness the powerful reactions and support of the audience members. I was excited and inspired by the support of the community and those who came together at Finding Peace in this House."

Wes (Actor):

Wes Clark as Brian

"I've been acting with Erasing the Distance for several years now, and Finding Peace in This House is assembled from stories that strike me as a little different from some of the other shows I've seen or performed in with ETD. In past shows, many of the stories share a common thread about how each person can reach a place in their lives where they may achieve a measure of understanding and acceptance about the struggle of learning to live with a mental illness. These stories illustrate the kind of peace everyone needs in order to feel confident in our ability to steer our lives in a chosen direction. To me, the stories in Finding Peace in this House are about the difficulty of reaching that place, and our storytellers are at different places along that journey towards finding that peace. Brian, the young man whose story I perform, is still faced with numerous obstacles, both internal and external, and his struggle is still ongoing. But his honesty and his bravery in telling his friend about his struggles and his constant willingness to keep trying to find that place where he can overcome those obstacles is what Finding Peace in This House is all about. I'm proud to be part of this show."

Finding Peace in This House: Katherine

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 15:00:00 +0000

Welcome to the fourth entry in our six-week series focused on ETD's Finding Peace in This House, which opens January 23, 2012. Today, we offer a sneak peek into the process of sculpting and performing the story of Katherine.

Katherine talks about her struggle with Anorexia Nervosa during high school, detailing her personal journey with the illness and how she eventually started on the road to healing. Katherine is just one of of the six remarkable people featured in Finding Peace in This House. (Click here to read about the other stories that comprise the show.)

Carly Bueltel, a graduate student at The Chicago School of Professional Psychology, interviewed Katherine and then transcribed and edited her story. ETD artistic associate Jennifer Shine performs Katherine's story onstage. Both women share how this process has impacted them.

Carly (Story Collector):

"Sitting on the other end of the phone, I was anticipatory of an individual who matched the image I had created in my head. Simply put, this was to be a girl battling Anorexia Nervosa in ways that I have read in memoirs. While I was cognizant that each story is unique, my expectations did not initially allow for this. Katherine immediately widened my perception of the personal and individual struggle with mental illness, something often forgotten. Her opening words spoke of what mental illness is and how this definition, too, is very personal. Quick to label, society places its words into others’ mouths. Erasing the Distance has allowed for Katherine’s actual words to be heard—just as she intended. Throughout the story collection, I too found myself faultily assuming what Katherine was to say next. However, waiting and listening expanded my own understanding of both Anorexia Nervosa, and of Katherine."

Jennifer (Actor):

"Katherine and I have never met, but I feel like I’ve known her for years. Although I have never personally struggled with an eating disorder, sharing her story feels like telling my own.

As young women, we must swim against a constant stream of body images defined by a society that holds no responsibility for the struggle it creates. We find ourselves locked in comparison to unrealistic body types from a very, very young age. It’s no wonder 81% of ten-year-old girls are afraid of being fat when they are raised with Barbie dolls in their hands. If Barbie were an actual woman, she would be 6’9” tall, have a 41” bust, a 20” waist, and would probably fall over. As teenagers and into adulthood, we are bombarded with images of pop stars and fashion models whose unrealistic body types lower our self-esteem. Not shockingly, 90% of women in America are unhappy with their bodies and think they need to lose weight - when in reality, only 1 in 4 women are overweight.

Eating disorders are very common and not a choice. They are not solely restricted to females, as males also struggle with eating disorders. Many underlying issues can generate different forms of eating disorders. They are illnesses that develop over time and require treatment for the complex medical/psychiatric symptoms. Sharing a story like Katherine’s is an incredible opportunity to open the window of hope to anyone struggling with low self-esteem, an eating disorder, or even to someone searching for control in the messiness of life. Katherine’s honesty, humor, and determination inspire me immensely, and I am honored to be able to share her story."

Best Gift Ever

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 19:33:00 +0000

2011 was a rough year for me.

Wow. Just typing that sentence feels self-indulgent. And, in a way, I believe that it is.

This past year was not filled with any debilitating disasters or losses for me. In fact, if anything, 2011 was a year of riches, particularly compared to what others endure every day. I still have my job, and acquired another one this year that I love equally. My children are healthy, happy, and thriving. My husband, in spite of all reason, seems to love me more than ever. I am surrounded by supportive family and wonderful friends. I want for nothing that I truly need. And therefore, any complaining on my part feels not only self-indulgent, but selfish and petty. I mean, if life were rated on a 1-10 scale, any objective observer would give mine a 9. I am a very lucky woman, and I am deeply grateful.

I just sometimes have trouble feeling it all.

Clinical depression is something I have struggled with my entire adult life. I was first diagnosed in college, and Depression and I have had a very up-and-down relationship ever since. Like any relationship, we have moments of bliss when everything seems to click. I let Depression alone, and she does the same for me. We do our own thing and are happy for it. We are both still aware of the other's presence, but that awareness only helps enhance our happiness because we both understand, more intimately than anyone else could, how hard we've fought to get to such an awesome place. In blissful times, we are each other's biggest supporters. We stand back and cheer each other on unobtrusively.

But there are darker times in the relationship when we clash. We drag each other down, tear each other apart, hold each other back. Those are the really rough patches, the valleys of despair when the only defense against the pain is to embrace numbness. The goal becomes simply to plow through, to try not to feel anything. But the numbness becomes heavy, like pounds of mud sitting on my shoulders, and it takes all my energy just to keep moving through the muck. I feel exhausted, weighed down, apathetic, detached. During those times, Depression and I are not on the same side. We want different things - I to rise up, and she to keep me down. And so, it becomes a battle. Once more into the breach, dear friends. We fight, and fight, and fight, and fight, and fight again.

2011 was a year of fighting.

Depression and I have been together a long time. Long enough for me to know that eventually, we will once again find a way to live together peacefully. It takes time, and patience, and a lot of work. Some days we almost get there; other days we are at each others' throats. However, after many years of denial, I've finally accepted that Depression isn't going anywhere. No matter how hard I try to push her away, she always comes back. We seem to need each other, her and I. For better or worse, we are a pair. Whether friend or enemy (and she has been both to me), she is always a part of my life. Recognizing that fact has been oddly liberating. While I don't particularly enjoy Depression's company, knowing that I can finally stop expending so much energy trying to get rid of her is freeing. Depression is here to stay. The only option is for us to learn to co-exist, and that is what I focus my energy on now. Finding and maintaining the balance between us is continuous work, but it is worthwhile work.

And so, in 2012, the work continues.

I don't talk about my relationship with Depression much because, as I referenced earlier, doing so often feels self-indulgent. I fear that people will judge me, will look at my admittedly wonderful life and think, "What in the hell do you have to feel depressed about?" And part of the reason I fear that is because, deep down, I share that opinion. It is ridiculous that I should feel so empty when my life is so full. It makes NO SENSE. But, unfortunately, depression is a senseless illness. I know that to be true. Yet I still struggle with the guilt of not being able to just shake off the damn self-pity and enjoy life. So if I - someone who understands depression more than your average Joe - can still feel that way, it seems reasonable that others would probably label me a whiny narcissist.

Yet, on the flip side, the same average Joe doesn't have the opportunity to understand depression if no one ever talks about it. Ay, there's the rub. (Oh, William. You understood depression well, didn't you my friend?)

There is still much to my relationship with Depression that I don't feel comfortable revealing...and perhaps I never will. Like any relationship, I believe that many of the more intimate details should remain private. However, I do think it important to try and strip away the fear of speaking of it at all. Giving voice can mean giving hope, and if my words help someone else, even in the smallest of ways, then the outcome outweighs the fear.

The one person in this world who understands the intricacies of my relationship with Depression better than any other is my husband. He knows how hard I am on myself, how much I struggle to feel my own beauty and worth, how much my depression manifests itself as self-loathing. He has seen the darkest parts of me, the parts that I hide from all others, and he is still my most steadfast friend and supporter. That alone is a priceless gift. And on my birthday a few days ago, he and my daughters gave me another gift - one of the most precious gifts I have ever received.

It was a simple hand mirror. (I have never owned a hand mirror. I'll let you guess why that might be.) But they decorated the back for me and attached a note to the mirror with ribbon.

I don't know if I will ever get to a place where I am able to fully accept myself as I am. One of the most harmful aspects of my relationship with Depression is how thoroughly she erodes my self-worth. But I believe that love IS beauty. So at this moment, as I hold my mirror in my hand and stare into the glass, I see the love of my family reflected back at me. And that love makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

Jen

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Jennifer Mathews is ETD's Communications Director and an actor in the ensemble. She is the manager of this blog as well as an occasional poster. Click here to read more of Jen's posts.

Finding Peace in This House: Ramona

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Thu, 29 Dec 2011 15:08:00 +0000

Welcome to the third entry in our six-week series focused on ETD's Finding Peace in This House, which opens Jan. 23, 2012. Today, we offer a sneak peek into the process of sculpting and performing the story of Ramona.

Ramona talks about growing up in a dysfunctional household filled with abuse and neglect. She fights hard to overcome her childhood struggles, experiencing years of homelessness before finally obtaining a graduate degree in social services and dedicating her life to working with homeless youth. Ramona is just one of the six remarkable people featured in Finding Peace in This House. (Click here to read about the other stories that comprise the show.)

Sarah Silva, a graduate student at The Chicago School of Professional Psychology, interviewed the real Ramona and then transcribed and edited her story. Actor Desla Epison performs Ramona's story onstage. Both women share their perspectives on how this process has impacted them.

Sarah (Story Collector):

"Collecting a story from Ramona was absolutely incredible. Knowing her on a personal and professional level, I was skeptical about how her story would alter my perception of her. But I was completely open to being in tune with her story. She had this yearning to tell others about her story, not one that I could ever read in a textbook. It was a story filled with complex trauma, one I could barely imagine. However, her story was not told with sadness or regret, but of a survivor who decided to make something of herself and be an advocate for other homeless youth. Ramona has altered the way I perceive others. She inspires me to see mental illness not as something that is all encompasing, but of something that is a part of you. In my current training to become a mental health counselor, I have noticed that people enjoy telling their stories. It tells me more about who they are, nothing even close to what any label or diagnosis could ever attain."

Desla (Actor):

Desla Epison as Ramona

"Working the Ramona piece has been a great challenge but so much of a release for me. The strength and courage she had to share her story meant a lot to me. I could instantly relate to her pain, denial, self-reflective journey, and accomplishment. A lot of us go through our daily lives having to accept drastic changes from job loss, homelessness, death, rejection…you name it. We must suck it up and move on, holding in resentment, bitterness, and anger. Feeling like no one can possibly understand what you are going through. And what's really jacked up is people will act like they can't relate, like no one has helped them out of a situation. We are taught that showing any emotion in this world is a sign of weakness, so behind walls we suffer in secret.

Rehearsing with [director] Brighid [O'Shaughnessy] feels, for me, like an honest therapy session. It’s like she reads your soul and casts you for parts that sooo fit what and who you are, what you may be or may have gone through. She is very easy to talk to (she's the theater therapist), for there's no judgment. Performing Ramona is like sharing parts of my story with the world. I am reaching out for someone to hear me, help me, understand me, respect my struggles, don't judge me and help me find the best solution. There are a lot of lonely Ramonas (including me), and I really want them to know that we are in this together, as painful as it may have been or still may be. We will get through this."

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Please join us Jan. 23, 24, 30 or 31 for Finding Peace in This House. Advance ticket purchasers save $5.00 off each ticket! With only four performances, tickets will go quickly. SO GET YOUR TICKETS TODAY!

What's In A Shame?

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 16:08:00 +0000

I have a confession. Every month, when it's my turn to write a blog post for ETD, I get totally obsessive. I usually make eight or nine false starts before I finally find a subject that clicks. Even still, I often feel like there is something right under my nose that I've missed in the effort to craft something writerly.

This month, I don't have time to dither and deliberate. That's a good thing. It's forcing me to look at what's under my nose. Something I live with all the time, something I think about every day. For me, that something is shame.

Now, before you cringe at the prospect of some deep-down confessional, I'm not going there. In my ongoing work to make peace with my shame, one realization stands above all others: Shame is nothing personal. Shame sure feels personal when you're in it--horribly so. But I can't ignore my sense that it's really a shared problem. It's in our culture, hovering above us all, waiting for a vulnerable situation or person to emerge. Then, shame does what shame does best: it convinces people that they are terminally unique.

When I think about all the things I've ever felt ashamed of, they aren't unique. I've felt ashamed of having depression, ashamed of shopping and eating too much, ashamed of bad relationships, ashamed of aging, ashamed of the self-centeredness that motherhood did not cure.

I've met enough people in life to know these are common sources of shame (see my post last month about the pressure on people to be "together" all the time). But the curious thing about shame is how distinctly, personally painful it becomes. It's the worst feeling ever. It turns people into self-contained torture chambers. And under torture, people will admit anything. Even if it's not true.

I have to constantly remind myself that shame is a liar. Shame lies about me being a fundamentally bad person, it lies about me being worse than others, and--here's the big one--it lies about itself as a tool for positive change.

That last lie is deeply embedded in our collective conscience. Don't so many people try to shame themselves or others into being better? The shame can be overt, as when someone says, "You're terrible for having these problems." But shame has myriad subtle disguises, too. Comparisons: "Your neighbor keeps her house clean, why can't you?" Scare Tactics: "At your weight, you're a walking time bomb!" Bargaining: "I can only accept myself if my symptoms are completely cured."

The thing about shame-as-motivator is that it does work sometimes, especially in the short term. But the costs exceed the benefits. For one thing, people motivated by shame are often so driven by anxiety that they lose touch with their values. They seek out crash diets, phony relationships, inauthentic careers, and misguided searches for "the answer" to whatever is supposedly wrong with them. (Not that I, of course, have EVER done ANY of those foolish things.)

For another thing, shame eventually stops working because it just plain feels bad, and people long for escape. For most people, "escape" means a return to the very behaviors or traits about which they felt ashamed. Vicious cycle, anyone?

So what's the way out? When I find it, I'll let you know. Actually, I do know the way out--identifying shame and talking back to it. But sometimes I just don't want to. Shame is kind of an old friend. A dysfunctional, backstabbing friend for sure, but having grown up with her, I tend to overlook that sometimes. Talking back to shame means trusting my new friends, Acceptance and Humor, enough to enlist their help. It's often scary to do this, because on some level I still feel I need shame to keep me from being lazy or bad. I think this is a common belief, hence the culture of shame.

I'll never forget two therapy sessions I watched on tape as part of an intensive training in cognitive techniques. In both cases, the therapists were addressing deep-seated shame in their patients. One patient, a former Army commander, had gotten paralyzed by fear during a particular battle and couldn't forgive himself. Another patient was deeply embarrassed that she, a marriage counselor, had been married three times.

In each case, as the therapist took their patients through cognitive strategies for talking back to shame, I could tell exactly when the light bulb moment happened. The patient would suddenly sob with relief, realizing that they weren't who the shame said they were. The Army commander saw that his supposed cowardice had actually saved his men from being killed. The therapist saw that her former marital problems helped her understand clients better. They both left the session deeply transformed, having realized that acceptance, not shame, made them better people.

I've seen this in my own life. I'm at my most humble and teachable when I can accept myself. I will always make mistakes and do things I regret, but stewing in shame about them prevents me from being able to make amends and change course. Shame is a very self-centered experience. Acceptance of self, by contrast, radiates outward and has the potential to change the world. Maybe that's why it's so scary, and why we retreat from it. But if we want it, it is there... right under our noses.

-Lisa

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Lisa Sniderman, LCSW received her M.S.W. from the University of Chicago in 2003 and has been a licensed clinical social worker since 2005. She is a past member of ETD's Mental Health Advisory Board and one of our storytellers. Click here to check out all of Lisa's posts.

Finding Peace in This House: Deb

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Thu, 22 Dec 2011 15:00:00 +0000

Welcome to the second entry in our six-week series highlighting the different stories featured in ETD's Finding Peace in This House, which opens Jan. 23, 2012. Today, we offer a sneak peek at Deb.

Deb is a wife, mother, and elementary school teacher who self-injures as a way of coping with severe anxiety.
Janet Gillett, a graduate student at The Chicago School of Professional Psychology, interviewed Deb and then transcribed and edited her story. ETD ensemble member Jennifer Mathews performs Deb's story in the play.

Janet (Story Collector):

"Talking to Deb was an incredible experience. As I listened to her story, I felt the power of her sadness and was honored to sit with her through this experience. Because her story resonated with me so powerfully, it wasn't hard to decide which parts would resonate with an audience at large. Many people connect with her story because she struggles daily with common fears we all share, such as guilt and worthlessness. I am continually inspired by how Deb faces her fears and is able to work through her pain instead of ignore it. When I hear her story, I see the struggles that haunt many individuals and the strength of the human spirit."

Jennifer Mathews as Deb

Jennifer (Actor):

"Giving voice to Deb's story is an honor. I've been blessed to be part of ETD's acting ensemble for several years, and I have performed many people's stories on the stage. The responsibility is enormous, but so is the privilege.

A pattern I have witnessed over the years with our stories is that many times, storytellers feel comfortable sharing their story only once they have gone through their journey and come out the other side. However, Deb's story is different. She is still very much in the midst of her illness, and she is fighting - fighting hard. I feel enormous compassion and respect and hope for her, and I think the audience will too."

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Please join us Jan. 23, 24, 30 or 31 for Finding Peace in This House! Click here for ticket information.

And check out the rest of our Finding Peace blog series for a glimpse at the other five stories that comprise this powerful play.

Ryan Murphy's Commonality

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 20:41:00 +0000

Ryan Murphy (writer, director, producer, etc.) is a popular figure in Hollywood these days. His recent popularity is due to the hit TV shows Glee and American Horror Story.

I am a fan of both shows, as you may have gathered from my previous post. Watching both Glee and American Horror Story, I noticed certain similarities. Each show addresses mental health issues, and brings them to a wide audience. This spurned further research into other Ryan Murphy projects. Here is a list of some of his major works…

Popular (TV series, The WB, 1999 - 2001)
Nip/Tuck (TV series, FX, 2003 – 2010)
Running with Scissors (Movie, Sony Pictures United States, 2006)
Glee (TV series, Fox, 2009 – Present)
American Horror Story (TV series, FX, 2011 – Present)

Each addresses various issues of mental health. As I researched, I was floored with how Ryan Murphy has brought these topics to mass audiences without alienating them. We’ll take a brief look at each. (To be clear, I have not seen Popular, Nip/Tuck, or Running with Scissors. I learned all this through research.)

Popular is a comedy/drama about two polar opposite teenage women who move in together when their single parents get married. Brook McQueen is the popular one, and Sam McPherson is not. Brooke’s mother abandoned her family when she was little, and Sam’s father died when she was fourteen.

It’s a pretty straightforward set up. So where do the mental health issues come in? Well, Brooke deals with bulimia and anxiety. Other characters struggle with suicidal feeling and emotional abuse. Many teenage shows deal with these issues, but this was the beginning of a trend for Murphy. Unfortunately, the show did not do so well. It was on for only two seasons, and cancelled after its 43rd episode.

Nip/Tuck was EXTREMELY popular. It is a drama that centers around two friends (Christian Troy and Sean McNamara) and their plastic surgery practice (McNamara/Troy). Each episode involves how the personal lives of the two main characters are affected by their professional practice.

Again, pretty straightforward. This show, dealing with cosmetic surgery, addresses a slew of various body image disorders. McNamara and Troy’s patients also struggle with sexual abuse and dissociative identity disorder, to name a couple. Personally, Troy has a sex addiction, and McNamara’s son self-injures. Murphy was able to bring some of these issues to a MUCH larger audience, continuing to carve out his niche. Nip/Tuck ran for 6 seasons with 100 episodes.

Running with Scissors is a feature film from Sony Pictures United States starring Annette Bening, Joseph Cross, Gwyneth Paltrow, and Alec Baldwin to name a few…written and directed by Ryan Murphy, based on the memoir (of the same name) by Augusten Burroughs.

The film centers on Augusten Burroughs (Joseph Cross) and his mother Deirdre (Annette Bening). The main plot is about Augusten’s adolescence, where (after his parents’ divorce) he is sent to live with his mother’s psychiatrist. He goes from a pristine home to utter filth. He lives there for years, visited by Deirdre, who seems more and more unstable. Murphy had a very strong connection to the story. The author and he frequently discussed various aspects of the film throughout its production.

Deirdre struggles with a mental illness unknowingly. Later in life, she was diagnosed “as a bipolar borderline psychotic with manic depressive tendencies.” Throughout the story, she has NO idea this is the case, and neither does her son. Annette Bening said the following about working on this character with Ryan Murphy: “When I was approaching the part I just so wanted Deirdre to be real in the picture. I didn't want to do it in fact unless I felt from Ryan [Murphy] the same kind of interest in the care of the mental illness part of her character was done. I just had a real aversion to the other way of approaching [it], as something kind of funny or glamorous. I mean, she's a very funny woman obviously. I love that part of her. She's hilarious. But just in terms of playing someone with mental illness, I felt an incredible responsibility to being responsible about that and making it real.”

This is what Ryan Murphy said about Deirdre Burroughs and Annette Bening’s portrayal: “Hers is one of the most harrowing portraits of mental illness I've seen. She made sure that it was always about the truth."

Here, we see Murphy tackling some major and messy mental health issues. Running with Scissors was not well-received critically.

Glee is in its third season, and wildly popular. It is a comedy/drama revolving around a glee club from (the fictional) William McKinley High School in Ohio. The students, along with the faculty sponsor, put on musical numbers (usually based on a single theme per episode). They are opposed by the cheerleading coach, Sue Sylvester (Jane Lynch).

Glee is a delightfully unique TV series. How many non-reality shows are full blown musicals? I mean, really? It does deal with its fair share of mental health issues. The most prominent of which features Emma Pillsbury, the guidance counselor, and her struggle with obsessive-compulsive disorder. It also focuses on body image issues.

In the first season, Mercedes, one of the glee clubs strongest voices, joins the Cheerios…the cheerleading squad. She is pressured to lose weight, and multiple students discuss their stresses around wanting to be “thin.” At the end of this particular episode, Mercedes sings “Beautiful” by Christina Aguilera. It’s a wonderfully moving rendition, and drives home the message that beauty is not about how one looks.

American Horror Story is Murphy’s most recent creation. It is a horror/drama centering on the Harmon family: Ben (Dylan McDermott), his wife Vivien (Connie Britton), and daughter Violet (Taissa Farmiga). Ben and Vivien are struggling with infidelity and decide to move from Boston to Los Angeles. Violet has a hard time with the transition, and their new home happens to be quite haunted.

Well…that’s a hell of a set up. Considering Ryan Murphy’s history, I find it surprising he went for the horror genre. The fascinating thing is...he still addresses mental health issues.

Violet meets a boy…a ghost boy who goes by the name of Tate Langdon (Evan Peters). They spend a lot of time together, and all the while Violet has no idea Tate is dead. Violet begins to self-injure by cutting her harms with a razor. At one point, Tate tells her that she can’t kill herself by doing that. Violet says that’s not what she’s trying to do.

This shows again how Ryan Murphy understands mental illness. American Horror Story started in the fall of 2011. It is just about to finish its first season.

Looking at these Ryan Murphy projects, it’s clear that mental health issues are important to him. He does what he can to bring them to the public in ways that are digestible, and makes one think. It’s refreshing to see someone who has a great deal of influence use it to shed light on such an important topic that he is passionate about.

I think Ryan Murphy’s next project should be with ETD. What do you think? I’ll get RIGHT on that. :)

-C. Weise

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Chris Weise is a member of ETD's Ambassador Council and Production Manager on the upcoming ETD production Finding Peace in This House. He also wears a directing hat for ETD from time to time. Click here to read more posts from Chris.

Finding Peace in This House: Matthew

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 15:00:00 +0000

After premiering at the Chicago Cultural Center in June 2011, Erasing the Distance (ETD) is thrilled to open our inaugural artistic season with Finding Peace in This House, a powerful play created in partnership with The Chicago School of Professional Psychology (TCSPP). TCSPP graduate students conducted, transcribed, and edited interviews from individuals affected by various mental health issues, and those interviews ultimately became the six theatrical monologues that are featured in the show.

In anticipation of Finding Peace in This House's opening on January 23rd, 2012, we are running a six-week series of blog posts that highlight different stories from the play. Today, we focus on Matthew.

Matthew is a college student, award-winning slam poet, and self-described "computer god" who was born with cerebral palsy. Matthew talks about how CP has affected his life as he recounts his struggles with depression, acceptance, and finding love. Here are a few words from the three people who helped craft this piece for the stage.

Matthew (Story Teller)
Simply put, sharing my story with ETD was both life-changing and inspiring. I wasn't really sure what to expect going into the interview, and I don't think any mental preparation or instruction would have helped or been fair to the story. I knew I had been through struggles, we all have, and we have all survived in our own ways. However, I failed to realize that as unique as my story is, I am not the only one fighting to survive. When telling my story, I was able to say things I had always kept to myself for fear of judgment or misunderstanding, but there was none of that. My story made it beautifully from my heart to the stage and I am so grateful for that because I have seen the impact it has had on friends and family. For some time I kept what I did a secret from my close friend, but one night I recognized that he too faced similar struggles of depression and was taking a beating from life—I decided then to show him a recording of my story. We both ended up hugging and crying, but ready to move on and face the rest of life. ETD’s stories are powerful and helped me understand myself and that life can be rough, but living and surviving it never has to be done alone.

Amelia (Story Collector)
Working on Matthew's story was an honor. I knew very little about his story before I met him; little did I know that I was in for quite a surprise. When I showed up to collect his story, I thought I was there for him. But the experience of hearing his story was extraordinary. He is a truly phenomenal young man with a heart of gold. His story will captivate and humble you. His narrative breaks past preconceptions and exposes the honest truth of what it means to live in this world. Taking the time to listen and experience this story will change people, for the better. It's an inspirational story from a very strong young man who is going to make a difference in this world. Please take the time to come out and see this show…you will not walk away unaffected.

Jason (Actor)


Jason Economus as Matthew

It was not only a great and wonderful acting thrill/challenge to portray Matthew's story at the Chicago Cultural Center this past June, it was also a deep honor. I had the good fortune of actually meeting the person whom my monologue came from, and what a joy it was. Not all people who share their stories for ETD want to be contacted by the actor portraying them, which is totally understandable. Matthew, however, was totally game to meet up with me, answer questions about his piece, and let me see a little into his day-to-day life. Matthew is a person who has had struggles, yes. But he—and I would say even more so than most—is also a kind, caring, extremely intelligent, and funny, funny guy. His smile literally lights up a room, and his story inspires and touches everyone who hears it.

To be honest, as I started to work on the piece, my actor anxiety started to get in the way. I’d never portrayed a real person on stage before and on top of it, this person was going to attend the performance! However, as I kept running through the piece on my own, replaying the short conversation I had with Matthew, and listening to his extraordinary poem over and over again, something in me was less anxious and became more trusting. I became more trusting of the process overall that ETD engages in on every level - from the interviewer to the storyteller, to the actor who portrays that story to the event and the audience that receives the story.

There is something remarkable happening in all that shuffling around of words and feelings and ideas. It became very, very clear to me the night of the performance that this entire production was bigger than anything in my actor ego—that ego that wanted to be a “good performer.” What was far, far more important were the brave people like Matthew who stepped forward, shared, and spoke their truth, their struggle, and their hope—and in that sharing, helped in a very real way to heal us all.

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For more information on Finding Peace in This House, including how to purchase tickets, please click here.

Speak and be Heard

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Sat, 10 Dec 2011 21:39:00 +0000

A few weeks ago, I had the good pleasure to help work with students as a guest artist at a high school residency program that ETD has been running for the past three months. The final performance by the students was this past week, and I am still brimming with pride and awe at what actually occurred at the show. The students shared personal stories of their own struggles and hopes with different issues they have faced in their lives. Some of these issues had occurred as recently as a few months ago, while other students had been dealing with their problems in some way since they were much younger.

The show was immediately following the end of the school day, and about 50 or so family members, friends, and faculty attended. Having worked closely with a few of the students on the pieces they were going to share, I knew they had to be nervous—some of them were revealing things to their peers and parents for the first time and going further down the road of self-discovery, expression, and healing than they ever had before. There were stories of abuse, sadness, and loss; some of the pieces felt like struggles every teenager grapples with—wanting to be accepted, wanting their parents to understand them, wanting to be more confident in themselves. And the students did awesome! There is always the anxiety of never quite knowing how any performance is going to go until it finally happens in front of a real audience. These teenagers delivered big time—they delivered impassioned, vulnerable, insightful, poetic pieces about their lives to real people in their lives, and they did so with conviction and their heads held high.

What followed the performance was one of the most interesting talk backs I've ever seen (which was deftly handled by Ms. Brighid O'Shaughnessy!!). The actors took questions from the audience about their pieces, the process of working with ETD, and even what advice - if any - they had for the parents in the room to improve communication lines between parent and child so that neither one feels cut off, disrespected, or in the dark. At times the conversation was quite lively, other times touching...but all throughout I was seeing a very important process. A conversation. A much-needed space and time to discuss, without our day-to-day defenses and busyness, the things that really matter and are always under the surface of our most common interactions with family, friends, teachers, the community at large, and most personally - ourselves. The talkback revealed how much we are all struggling to make sense of our lives, and how much power there is in breaking the silence around our pain, our insecurities, our fears, and our griefs. And the adults in the room were not the ones with all the answers. In fact, the students often had the some of the most insightful responses and challenging truths to contemplate.

These brave teenagers showed me the immense value and benefit of approaching problems in our lives with humility, sincerity, and an earnest desire to speak our truth as boldly and simply as we can…and to be heard.

-Jason

Jason Economus is an actor, writer, teacher, director, stand-up comic, and member of ETD's ensemble. Click here to check out Jason's posts.

The Fix-It Mentality

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 15:20:00 +0000

As my family's menu planner, I spend a lot of time waiting to check out at Jewel. Surrounded by magazines, I notice a pervasive theme of self-improvement. Every month, there is a new 9-step plan to whittle your waist. A two-week program to boost your confidence. A makeover to get you a hot date. Beaming celebrities appear on magazine covers having had babies, lost 50 pounds, or gotten new spouses. Other celebrities look more solemn as they penitently admit having lost their way, made mistakes, and learned big lessons. But even there, the story has a tidy ending and the message is clear: If you don't have it together, you'd better get it together, stat. Because the other extreme is being castigated in the tabloids with the most bloated, ghastly photo imaginable, and a headline like "At Death's Door" or "Fall From Grace." There is no in-between state.

So why do I care about magic sauerkraut diets or the follies of B-list celebrities? Well, I don't, but I do care about why such headlines sell. They sell because people long for a world in which everything can be fixed. People want a way to be done with problems in their lives. Give me a guru! Make me a plan! Attitude is everything! I can do it if I try!

The motivation here is noble. After all, who doesn't want to be better than they are today? Maybe even perfect?

The problem is that this fix-it mentality neatly sidesteps all kinds of messy realities. Some problems take years to resolve; others must simply be accepted and lived with. Motivation and morality are seldom black-or-white. A change in appearance is not a ticket to self-esteem. Children are their own people; they aren't merely a product of parenting gone wrong or right. And people often have difficulties that seem personal, but actually flow from socioeconomic, biological, and environmental factors beyond their control.

Needless to say, the fix-it mentality can be very hurtful to people with mental illness. At the societal level, there is real contempt for people with chronic mental illnesses who don't appear to "get well," and this contempt shows in huge funding cuts for community mental-health agencies. Ironically, emergency care and incarceration are much more expensive than preventive care, which convinces me that these legislative decisions have more to do with misguided values than with common sense.

At the personal level, people with mental illness too often have contempt for themselves. I work in an emergency room, and many of the psychiatric patients I see feel ashamed that they are unable to handle their symptoms alone. Often, what these patients consider "failure" involves a superhuman amount of effort and discipline to surmount their problems. Many patients' families worsen the situation without meaning to, by their inability to accept the person in his or her state of struggle. Heartfelt efforts to get the person back to normal crash and burn, leaving everyone demoralized.

What a difference it makes when families are able to take the long view, to support the person in crisis without setting arbitrary timelines for recovery. Just sitting with someone who's in an awful mess, and tolerating that mess, is profoundly counter-cultural and transformative. It's especially transformative when those of us with mental illness do this for ourselves. I only actually improve when I give up self-improvement and practice self-acceptance. To this day, that stuns me. But I can't argue with the results.

I'll never end up in tabloids, either beaming or bloated. I'm partly a mess and partly fixed, as is everyone in my home. We have a lot of ongoing projects and a lot of abandoned ones. If I am having a rough day, mood-wise, I can tell my family. Just this morning, I had a bona fide panic attack over a missing backpack. The kids started getting upset, too. My husband had to intervene and remind me gently that holidays with family always bring out the worst in me. His acceptance of me in my messy state helped the symptoms subside more quickly—believe me, I was not feeling at the pinnacle of my dignity and could easily have felt very embarrassed. . My holiday wish this year is for everyone in struggle to feel this accepted. Erasing the Distance is doing fine work on the ground to make this dream real.

-Lisa

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Lisa Sniderman, LCSW received her M.S.W. from the University of Chicago in 2003 and has been a licensed clinical social worker since 2005. She is a past member of ETD's Mental Health Advisory Board and one of our storytellers. Click here to check out Lisa's posts.

The Courage To Share

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Sun, 27 Nov 2011 15:00:00 +0000

I was watching The Wendy Williams Show the other day, and the delightful Richard Simmons was a guest. I grew up seeing the infomercials for Richard’s “Sweating to the Oldies” and other workout videos, and I have always loved his spirit. He has such a positive attitude and always brings joy and inspiration. As he burst through the audience, shimmying in his colorful fringed leotard and circling around the couch to hug Wendy, I was thrilled to hear what he had to share.

If you’re not very familiar with Wendy Williams (how you ‘doin?), she always gets straight to the point with her interviewing, tackling the tough issues first. She immediately asked him about rumors that he was in poor health after he made a guest appearance on Dancing with the Stars to support Chaz Bono. When questioned about recent claims that he was sick, he shared with Wendy that he has had eating disorders for years and it is currently still hard for him to swallow. Wendy listened and then deflected to her next question, possibly because she was unsure how to respond. Although I was annoyed by Wendy’s inability to provide an appropriate follow-up question, I was still quite moved. I said to myself, here is a man who is famous for his weight loss programs and positive spirit, bearing to the world that he has and still suffers from eating issues. It always inspires me when celebrities and other public figures are so open about their mental health issues. Not only does it give me the confidence to be open about my own mental health, but it can also be a stigma-fighting force that can touch millions. Check out the clip here, and let me know what you think:

Rhonda Marie

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Rhonda Marie Bynum is a member of ETD's Ambassador Council as well as an ensemble member who has appeared onstage with ETD numerous times. Click here to read more posts from Rhonda Marie.

My Struggle with Mental HEALTH

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 14:14:00 +0000

After four-ish years with ETD, I think I’ve come to a realization. I don’t have a mental illness.

I had been performing for a year or so before I decided I might have a story of my own related to mental illness that I should write and tell. I wasn’t ready to say that I had a mental illness, but I did have a family history of it and also struggled with addiction earlier in my life.

In the story I wrote and told, I questioned whether this genetic predisposition to depression could be connected to my difficulties with addiction. I wasn’t convinced that it was, but I believed I was not in my right mind doing some of the things I did.

After performing my own monologue for a few years, I had ample opportunity to reflect on the choices I made and why I made them. I’ve learned more about those who have struggled and self-medicated to deal with depression, bipolar, or any number of other mental illnesses. While I was struggling through a dark time in my life, I don’t believe I am or was mentally ill.

ETD’s new mission helped me realize this. During recent strategic planning, we decided to revisit our mission and vision. The outcome was subtle and significant at once. Rather than shedding light on issues of mental illness through theatre, Erasing the Distance now sheds light on mental health issues through theatre. While I do not feel I have a mental illness, I know that I have not always been mentally healthy.

I struggled to cope during dark times in my life. While my struggles probably didn’t have anything to do with my brain wiring and physiology, they had everything to do with my mental well being. My struggle is not any less valid because it was most likely not due to a mental ILLNESS.

After performing for and listening to those who have battled with mental illness, I can say that I feel lucky that my mental health issues were not compounded by my brain chemistry working against me. I am eternally grateful to be a part of this company that allows me to listen and talk to others about their struggles, and reflect on my own.

-Craig

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Craig Thompson is an actor in the Chicago area and has been a member of ETD's ensemble for several years. Click here to check out Craig's posts.

We Are So Close!

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Wed, 16 Nov 2011 15:00:00 +0000

The Chase Community Giving contest continues, and we are doing so great! As of the writing of this post, we are in the 99th spot. Rankings change constantly as charities continue to gather votes, but it's the first time in the whole contest that we've cracked the Top 100, and we plan to stay there.

Check out some of the online exposure we've gotten on the contest. We are so grateful for all of the support from the media and blogging community, as well as each and every one of YOU!

FitPerez.com

OakPark.com

MakeItBetter.net

TribuneLocal.com

WantADumpsterBaby.com

GenwithaG.com

Voting ends Nov. 22nd. We are so close to the finish line! Please forward this blog post to all your friends and family and encourage them to vote for us too. Together, we can make this happen.

TED Talks

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Mon, 14 Nov 2011 17:55:00 +0000

My past two blogs have been around the idea of connection and mental health. For this post, I want to share with you a TED talk by Brene Brown, a "Researcher Storyteller," who shares some of her findings on vulnerability and whole-heartedness. I hope you like it.

TED talks are an amazing source of innovative ideas and information on everything from psychology to economics, design and technology. If you like Brene's talk, I encourage you to check out more. If you do, please share in your comments a talk that inspires you. Here are two others that I also think are wonderful and worth watching:

http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/caroline_casey_looking_past_limits.html
http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/jeremy_rifkin_on_the_empathic_civilization.html

Lastly, don't forget to vote for ETD in the Chase Community Giving contest and spread the word to family and friends. Every vote counts!

~Jamie

Jamie Pekarek Krohn, LCPC is a board member with ETD and received her Master's from DePaul University in Counseling and Human Services. She worked as a therapist at Alexian Brothers Behavioral Health Hospital and is currently in private practice. Click here to read more of Jamie's posts.

Thank you, Make It Better!

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Sat, 12 Nov 2011 22:21:00 +0000

Check out this shout-out to Erasing the Distance on Make It Better's web site. Thank you so much, Laura Hine! And don't forget to vote...

Say It Out Loud performance wrap-up

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Fri, 11 Nov 2011 22:04:00 +0000

Click here to read a lovely blog post by Melissa Black Ford, self-described parent/coach/educator and blogger for oakpark.com. She offers a lovely wrap up of the recent Erasing the Distance performance at The Arts Center of Oak Park to help kick off the Say It Out Loud campaign, and her blog demonstrates better than we ever could exactly how our shows impact audiences. Thank you, Melissa!

And also, PLEASE don't forget to vote for Erasing the Distance in the Chase Community Giving contest on Facebook! Every vote counts, and just two minutes of your time can help Erasing the Distance win up to $250,000 to help us continue our mission to shed light on mental health issues through theatre. To vote, just click the button below. (Note: be sure to "Like" Chase Community Giving's FB page or you will not be allowed to place a vote.) Thank you for your support!

Please Vote for ETD Today - Your Voice CAN Make A Difference!

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 23:52:00 +0000

Chase Community Giving is giving away over $3 million dollars to 100 small charities via Facebook, and ERASING THE DISTANCE needs your vote to be one of the deserving charities selected to receive a $25,000 grant!

We are asking that you give Erasing the Distance your support by giving us YOUR VOTE. Just click the link below to cast your vote now! (Note: Make sure you "Like" Chase Community Giving first, or they do not allow you to vote.)

Voting closes Nov. 22nd, so time is of the essence. Please vote today, and let your voice be heard!

Also, please spread the word to friends, family and colleagues! Post your vote for ETD on your Facebook wall after voting, and send personal emails encouraging others to vote for ETD as well. This is a nationwide contest with thousands of eligible charities, so every single vote really counts.

We are so appreciative of you, our wonderful supporters. THANK YOU. With your help, we can make anything happen.

Potential for Stigma-Smashing Greatness

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 14:35:00 +0000

I enjoy Glee, a lot. What’s not to love about a television show highlighting high school theatre/arts, dynamic characters, sharp writing, full-blown musical numbers, and current controversial topics?

That’s what I thought. :)

Season three, which began earlier this fall, just returned from a short hiatus…due to either X Factor or some sports shenanigans. This break started after the third episode, “Asian F.” This episode broke me.

I was in an emotional place when I watched it, but still. I reacted strongly because of Emma Pillsbury, the guidance counselor at the fictional William McKinley High School, played by the delightful Jayma Mays (Heroes, Ugly Betty, and Pushing Daisies). Emma is the main love interest of Will Schuester, the director of the glee club, played by Matthew Morrison (Numb3rs, CSI: Miami, and As the World Turns). Why did Jayma Mays’ performance get such a response from me…aside from the fact that I have a bit of a crush on her? Because Emma Pillsbury has OCD.

Jayma Mays has said that Emma “seems like a real person facing real issues.” Her character has been on Glee since the pilot. Very rarely has her mental illness EVER been the focus. Jayma Mays plays the OCD in a cute, yet heartfelt way…which is what Tony Shalhoub did with Monk. In the latter’s case…it was the creators, writers, directors, and producers who caused Monk’s mental illness to feel fake, regardless of the performance. Glee has the guts to view OCD authentically, so far at least.

Emma’s OCD is actually called OCD from the beginning….not an “anxiety disorder.” As I said above, rarely is it the focus of the show…partially due to it being a harsh illness, but more so because Emma’s not a main character. There are two episodes that deal with her OCD directly. The first is season two’s “Born this Way” (yes, a reference to Miss GaGa).

In “Born this Way,” Emma agrees to get help. There is a short scene where Dr. Shane prescribes her medication. (The next moments have really stayed with me.) Emma gets the meds and opens the bottle. There is a close up of her face as she places one pill on a table. The emotions she conveys (pain, anxiety, and shame) are so genuine. The shot is followed by an extreme close up of the pill being placed on the table with a heavy “thud” sound effect. This did a wonderful job of communicating the burden of the illness, and fear of the medication. The scenes were very short, but powerful nonetheless.

In “Asian F” (season three), Will and Emma (who now live together) have dinner with Emma’s parents. They are these HORRIBLE (yet comical) people who belittle their child for her OCD, no matter the company. She hangs her head and her eyes begin to mist.

This is followed by her and Will getting ready for bed. She is rattled and performing compulsions. Will tries to stop her, and she kneels down to pray. She explains how kneeling to pray aloud helps more, when praying silently in her head isn’t enough. Will kneels, takes her hands and begins to sing Coldplay’s “Fix You.” It’s a beautiful song, slow and simple. Emma begins to cry as he sings and prays with her. I broke.

I was, and am, SO touched that a mainstream, popular television show would treat a mental illness – particularly one I personally suffer from - so sincerely. It was lovely. I sat there, tearing up, and I felt happy, sad, a bit angry, and confused. I got hit by ALL this in the span of 15 seconds. I didn’t know why I was confused and angry…until I heard the song refrain, “I will try to fix you.”

I was more confused than angry. Glee is a smart show. It portrays OCD sincerely and respectfully, even more so after the episode “Asian F.” So to use the word “fix” upsets me…I hate that term when applied to OCD. It implies people with this illness are broken, and that is horseshit. They are not broken; it is part of who they are. OCD is not a fixable mental illness. The person afflicted can understand, manage, deal, and overcome to an amazing degree…but the OCD will never be completely gone. That is a hard reality. They didn’t choose to have it, but they do, and they deal with it. Emma is NOT a broken person, which is why Will CANNOT “fix” her.

That being the case, why choose such a beautifully sad song to express Will’s feelings about Emma’s OCD? Does Will want to fix Emma? Yes, he does. I get that. Many loved ones of those with mental illness have the same mentality. Does he think he CAN fix her? I don’t know.

I’m confused for a number of reasons. Is Will’s character arc this season going to involve him trying to “fix” Emma only to realize he can’t? That the best thing he can do for her is love her, support her, and stand by her side? That would be a HELL of a way to take things. It’s narrative gold.

Is Will going to succeed in “fixing” Emma? Do the creators, writers, directors, and producers think that’s possible? I sure as hell HOPE not! Will Glee take the easy way out by choosing this path? The care and earnestness put into the way this sequence was shot says NO…but the use of Coldplay’s “Fix You” says MAYBE.

Glee has an opportunity here. It can choose to smash the stigma surrounding OCD, or take the path of less resistance. This show portrays those with mental illness and their loved ones. It can show us the loved one’s journey of coming to terms with a hard truth, through its unique lens of storytelling.

I have never been so invested in, and scared of, a television show in my entire life. I hope Glee gives us a Will Schuester who learns that “fixing” Emma Pillsbury is not possible, but standing by her side is.

I’ll let you know how it turns out.

-C. Weise

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Chris Weise is ETD's Production Manager and a member of the Ambassador Council. He also wears a directing hat for ETD from time to time. Click here to read more posts from Chris.

Human Beings vs. Human Doings

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Wed, 19 Oct 2011 20:07:00 +0000

I've been thinking a lot lately about cultural values of productivity, achievement, and "getting ahead." Hint: Not a big fan…especially when it comes to recovering from mental illness.

I've had a lifelong love affair with the philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson. In the worst of my depression, I would get some comfort from reading his essays. Emerson was big on the inner life—the inherent worth and depth of the human spirit. He was highly educated and prolific in his writings, yet he shunned the idea that a person's value can be quantified by their level of activity. In "Spiritual Laws," Emerson writes: "I see action to be good, when the need is, and sitting still to be also good... Heaven is large, and affords space for all modes of love and fortitude." Essentially, this was the 19th century's version of: "I am a human being, not a ‘human doing.’"

This was a hopeful message for me. My first episode of illness destroyed my self-concept, which had been dependent on other people's opinions. I felt humiliated that I could not keep up with my schoolwork, and had to drop out. The brain I had relied upon to wow people with its flashes of brilliance—well, it had blown a fuse. I had to read a paragraph five times before I comprehended it. I sucked at making conversation. I had to take Emerson on faith that I was still in there, somewhere.

It would be four years before I felt ready to return to college. While my parents and friends were supportive, some family members kept bugging me about it. They warned that if too much time passed, it might look bad to future employers. Ours was an appearance-focused family, and these particular members seemed to be holding their breath until my life "moved on" from this unfortunate impasse, which they were unwilling to call by name.

What they didn't understand was that I could not move on until my values changed. As long as I viewed life as a competition, I would be a loser. There would always be someone who was more ambitious, more disciplined, more efficient, better-looking. So, I may as well kill myself. What use am I? (Those last two thoughts came courtesy of depression, which has its own awful logic.)

My recovery process involved meds, therapy, some low-stress jobs—and loads of reading and writing. Emerson became my bible; his words reached past the thick fog of despair, revealing glints of my lost self. Something scary and exhilarating broke open. I filled dozens of 80-page notebooks with newly liberated anger, grief, confusion, self-discovery and hope. I began to have moments of joy. I became more immersed in daily activities, instead of judging them as menial or dumb. I discovered that I was ordinary. In embracing that, I found the extraordinary that we all possess.

Once I was back on my feet, I enjoyed almost 15 years of wellness until my next episode. I worked my tail off to stay well. I kept up with my sleep, my stress coping, my journaling, my therapy. It was hard, but it was great. In those 15 years, I got a lot done. Got a BA and an MA, did performance art, worked full-time, married, had a kid.

And that last one was where it all fell apart. Postpartum depression was the ugliest beast yet. Here, the depressive mindset convinced me that I could harm my child—a helpless soul—just by being myself. After all, she needed a mother who was endlessly patient, naturally selfless, who loved her without ambivalence or resentment because she was better without even trying. In 15 years, I had failed to become this mother. So, I may as well kill myself. What use am I?

But wait—that awful logic was not going to work this time. As mired and paralyzed as I was, I had those 15 years to fall back on. They were not pointless. They put the lie to the notion that motherhood was something only for the "best." (But given the pressure on mothers these days, I don't blame myself for going there!) I might be klutzy, impatient and slow to learn, but what other mother did this kid have? What could be worse for her than my disappearance? What more powerful opportunity to be a human being and not a human doing, since this is precisely what a baby is?

So I got through it. Even had another kid. Now I'm a mostly-at-home parent enjoying the hell out of our little human beings. Maybe because it gives me permission to skip makeup, play on the floor with toothbrushes, and talk about poop. Sometimes, I get a flash of my old self—the one who lived for a fantasized future of fame and accolades. The one who would have thought laundry and playgrounds a huge waste of time. But I'm able to say to her, "What better thing do I have to do than this?" She never does have an answer.

I thought about ending my essay on that note, but then I realized that I hadn't mentioned my job. Social work has raised my consciousness and cemented my values. In working with people with severe and persistent mental illness, I've learned to sit with other people's pain, inertia and regression. I've learned to sit with my inability to help and my lack of understanding. The drive to somehow tie all this up in a bow and pronounce it "fixed" is very strong. But there was no quick fix for me, and there is none for my clients. Some theories and techniques work better than others, but they all have limits. "Getting well" is a lifelong process, not a goal. That fact is a testament to the depth, complexity and uniqueness of every person.

I have to say, I've gotten extremely angry in the last few years about the brutal cuts to mental-health funding in Illinois. It goes beyond a sense of injustice that so many communities now have no mental-health services, and that existing agencies are hamstrung by an outmoded "medical model" that's penny-wise and pound-foolish.

I think what gets me so worked up is the essential lack of humanity in government. The funding cuts reflect an underlying belief that people who can't "produce" for society aren't worth helping. Many people with chronic mental illness can't work, at least not full-time. Some have limited education. Some relapse frequently and need intensive outreach to keep living in the community. They may be hurting and unlovely on the outside. They don't make the kind of "progress" that looks good on a bar graph.

The state seems to be saying, "Who cares what happens to these losers? Helping them is worthless." Nope. Only if my years of journaling and crying were worthless. Only if my time sitting here and writing this is worthless. I refuse to believe that—for myself or for anyone else. We are human beings, in all our "modes of love and fortitude." That's the reality that continues to save me.

Love,

Lisa

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Lisa Sniderman, LCSW received her M.S.W. from the University of Chicago in 2003 and has been a licensed clinical social worker since 2005. She is also a member of ETD's Mental Health Advisory Board. Click here to read more posts from Lisa.

The Golden Rule

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Mon, 17 Oct 2011 15:25:00 +0000

You know The Golden Rule: treat others as you would want to be treated. We want to be treated with kindness, so we treat others kindly. We want to be respected, so we respect other people. We want to be accepted for who we are, flaws and all, so we accept others, flaws and all. We want our mistakes to be forgiven and to be allowed to grow, so we accept that others make mistakes and we let them grow. We want someone to hear us, so we listen.

Close your eyes for a moment and imagine that this was the only rule you had to follow. That’s it. You wake up and think, “I’m going to treat others like I want to be treated.” Do you think you could do it? Not perfectly, but most of the time? If not, what do you think gets in our way?

A big component of this is our mental health. But, what is mental health? That’s a big question, and I think you could get different answers describing what it means to be mentally healthy. You could look to the DSM and discern, in very broad terms, that mental health is when anxiety, depression, substance use, etc. don’t interfere with your level of functioning. Someone else could describe it as simply being happy. Another person might say it's when your thoughts and actions don’t cause internal or external pain. Yet another person might say, “How can you tell someone else what it feels like to be healthy for them?” How would you describe mental health? I see truth in all of the above statements, but at its core, I think mental health is how we connect with ourselves and other people. When there are obstacles to treating ourselves with kindness, respect, acceptance, forgiveness and understanding, it is confusing and painful. And if we don’t connect with ourselves in these ways, how do we then connect with others?

I don’t know about you, but I’m curious to know about these obstacles. What are my obstacles, how do they interfere, can I move beyond them? These are good questions to ask ourselves. Here is something you can do that I find very helpful. When you are interacting with others, take a few moments to see how you are experiencing yourself and the other person. What are some of the words you would use to describe how you feel about yourself? Are they words like beautiful, open, peaceful? Or more painful words like rejected, ignored, wrong or annoying? What about how you feel about the other person? If you feel ignored, do you then feel angry at them? Maybe how you connect then is by lashing out, withdrawing or belittling the other person. Understanding how we feel about who we are can help us understand how we connect with other people, and why, perhaps, The Golden Rule can be so difficult to apply to our own lives.

I challenge us all to become more aware of our obstacles, and if you continue to legitimize them and find you can’t change them, then reach out for help. Be curious. You deserve kindness, respect, acceptance, forgiveness, and to be listened to with the highest regard. We all do.

~Jamie

Jamie Pekarek Krohn, LCPC is a board member with ETD and received her Master's from DePaul University in Counseling and Human Services. She worked as a therapist at Alexian Brothers Behavioral Health Hospital and is currently in private practice. Click here to read more of Jamie's posts.

Mental Health & Learning to Surf

noreply@blogger.com (Erasing The Distance - www.erasingthedistance.org) — Fri, 14 Oct 2011 14:05:00 +0000

Learning to surf is a challenging activity that benefits most people’s mental health. But if you can't go surfing, there are elements of the sport that can be distilled and found in other ways.

I spent this summer documenting people’s surfing vacations. In the process, I interviewed dozens of people about what it was like learning to surf, asking “Why did you choose to come on a surfing vacation?” “How has your experience been?” “How does surfing compare to your daily life?” and other questions along these lines.

The interviewees are people who have chosen to take a vacation immersing themselves in the sport of surfing. Many guests are beginners who have never surfed before, some who have barely been in the ocean, who come with the goal of standing up on a wave. I also interviewed intermediate and advanced surfers, looking to improve their skills maneuvering on waves.

Why do people come to surf? What is their intention? What do they take away? Why do so many beginners get so stoked? I have definitely noticed themes. One thing I see over and over again? People like to surf because it is fun.

I enjoy interviewing folks on vacation because they are generally pretty open and willing to talk. I have seen many examples where a person has come with the goal of surfing and ends up learning more about themselves along the way. There is something about the challenges, vulnerability, and physical & mental immersion of the sport that gives those learning how to surf something more than the technical skill of standing on a surfboard.

How does this relate to Erasing the Distance and mental health? It seems when people come on a vacation and surf, they return home both physically and mentally healthier. The mental health benefits come from:

physical activity
having fun
learning something new
being completely immersed in the moment
being in the ocean and in nature

I’ve noticed that the above five aspects seem to stand out for people as to what made their experience so enjoyable and rewarding. I’ve also observed another aspect that contributes positively to the experience: stretching and challenging yourself with the guidance and encouragement of a coach.

A surf vacation has the potential to boost your mental and physical well-being, but it isn’t necessarily the surfing that is specifically responsible.

Physical activity, having fun, learning something new, being immersed in the moment, being in nature, and stretching and challenging yourself with the guidance and encouragement of a coach...if you can find a way to incorporate a combination of these six aspects into your life, you may just find a bit of that post-vacation glow, with or without the surf vacation.

~ Oriana

Oriana Fowler is a communications and media whiz, a former employee of Erasing the Distance, and a beginner surfer. Click here to read more posts from Oriana.