Pete Earley

(6-13-18) A core principle of good journalism is that reporters make certain they cover all sides of an important issue.

Sadly, it appears that my former employer, The Washington Post, has dropped the ball today by hosting a summit to “discuss the state of mental health care in the U.S.” without inviting any well-known individuals who actually have recovered or been through the mental health care system as patients.

Every day, there are forums, panels, and seminars about mental health held in the U.S. but the fact that a newspaper as prominent and influential as the Post would exclude a spokesperson with lived experience is surprising and disappointing. (In fairness, because the Post seminar is happening while I write this, I have not asked its organizer, Michael Falcone at the Post, to explain his actions, but I will  be happy to post his answer if he chooses to reply to this blog.)

Until told otherwise, it would seem the Post’s actions are subtly marginalizing persons such as my son and those who deal with mental health problems, suggesting they either are not capable of participating in a thoughtful discussion or that their voices are not important.

I was alerted to the Post’s decision in an email this morning from A. J. French (see below) who wrote that she had notified  Falcone at the Post and the newspaper’s co-sponsor Cigna in advance of today’s event, arguing that a peer or individual in recovery should be included in any discussion about the status of mental health care.  French offered Falcone the names of several activists who could explain what it is like to live daily with a mental disorder including: Paolo del Vecchio, director of Mental Health Services at SAMHSA and Harvey Rosenthal, Executive Director at the New York State Association of Psychiatric Rehabilitate Services.

French stated that the organizers at the Post didn’t respond to her emails.

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(6-11-18) He first showed up several months ago holding a cardboard sign: “HOMELESS: Please Help!”

He was poised at the entrance of a neighborhood shopping center less than two miles from my house here in Fairfax, Virginia.

Next came several Washington Post articles about how homeless individuals were sleeping in cars and in tents within five miles from where I live.

Seeing this man homeless was good news.

What? How can I write such a horrible statement. Stick with me for a moment and you will understand.

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Andrew Butler with his father, Douglas. Family photo from InDepthNH.org website.

(6-4-18) Without being charged or having committed a crime, can you be incarcerated in a maximum security U.S. prison, kept in a cell 23 hours per day, held in solitary confinement, shot with a taser by correctional officers, and locked up indefinitely if you are an American citizen?

The answer is “yes,” if you have a mental illness and live in New Hampshire.

Frankie Berger, the Treatment Advocacy Center’s director of advocacy, tipped me off last week about the case of Andrew Butler.

“The state does not have a secure wing on their state hospital,” she summarized in an email, “so people who are civilly committed as a danger to themselves or others – people who have not committed or been charged with any crimes, male and female – are being sent to the men’s maximum security prison. They are given prison numbers and uniforms, treated like prisoners, and the whole thing is unconstitutional.”

How is this possible today?

Because the New Hampshire legislature doesn’t want to pay the cost of creating a secure unit in its state mental hospital, so it passed legislation in the 1980s making it legal to send anyone with a mental illness who becomes psychotic and violent to the state’s maximum security prison – even though there is no accredited mental hospital unit there to treat them.

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(5-31-18)  From My Files Friday: I realized today that this is the 1,126th blog that I’ve posted.  I wrote this in May 2012.  

Musings on a flight home from Denver

What is home?

I spent most of my childhood in Colorado.  When I moved to the Washington D.C. area and people asked me about my hometown, I always mentioned Fowler. It is a small town in Southeastern Colorado where I graduated from high school and where my sister, who died in an automobile accident there, is buried. (Since writing this, both of my parents have passed and are buried there too.)

Yet, I haven’t lived in Fowler since 1970.

I remember hearing Vance Packard speak in the early 1970s about how mobility for jobs was making it difficult for many Americans to choose where they intended to be buried. A grim topic, but evidence of how many of us move several times during our lives. The old family plots – in some rural areas located on individual farms – no longer were the norm. We had become a nation of nomads, he said.

This got me thinking on a recent trip to Colorado about the definition of home. I had returned there to speak at an event held by Bayaud Enterprises in Denver.

Please stay with me a moment while I tell you a bit about Bayaud Enterprises.Click to continue…

(5-28-18) On Memorial Day we celebrate our veterans who died for us and our country.

I not only think about veterans but all those who have died and are dying because of a mental illness and our refusal to help them in their daily battles with brain disorders. Consider this email that I received from a mother this week.

Dear Pete,

I am happy to read that your son is doing well. My son, Art Anthony Hargreaves,  died last month from complications caused by his schizophrenia and diabetes. Alone in his little government studio apartment. He refused to go to a group home stating, “They’re illegal.” His case manager and others said there was nothing they could do. We were waiting on me trying to become his guardian. It just all moves too slow. Time ran out.  I miss my son.

Only those who have walked this walk truly understand. I kept telling his case manager that I was so afraid I might get a phone call informing me that my son Art had died. Art was such a sweet soul. Schizophrenia took his brain, than his body, but never his Soul, his love of nature and animals, and dare I say his Mom. I was in ICU recovering from a stroke-at my weakest, when Art left this world, and when I received the news.

Would you help me get word out about the Harvard Brain Bank for research on Mental Illness.  My son, and my whole family are donors. Unfortunately they could not harvest my son’s brain for research as the body must be quickly refrigerated and there is only a 3 hour window of time to do this. I did call Harvard Research Center and strongly suggested they put that information on donor cards…in case of death. 

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(5-25-18) I had no idea.

I’ve known for years that Joanna Walker was a tireless advocate in Northern Virginia for individuals with mental illnesses. What I didn’t know until I attended a recent This Is My Brave  performance was that she had once been depressed and suicidal. Nor was I aware that she was a talented signer who chose to tell her story both with words and by singing a poignant original song.

On Another Day was written by her daughter, Emily. 

Thank you Joanna and Emily for sharing your talents. And thank you, Jennifer Marshall and This Is My Brave for continuing to offer opportunities to individuals with mental disorders to share their personal recovery stories!

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