Mental Health Initiatives I Support in 2022

Source: Maky_Orel/Pixabay

On New Year’s Day of 2006, I roamed around the university campus (where I had once been a student) severely mentally ill and homeless, looking for any leftover food to eat. To my disappointment, all the people who would regularly be throwing away food were gone for the holiday, and for some time, I found nothing.

Finally, I did find something. It was a box of donuts that had been left by a construction crew. I saw some construction equipment nearby. I also noticed that the donuts were covered with metal chips, which is probably why they had not been eaten. I scratched the metal off a donut and ate it anyway.

Within 24 hours, I was experiencing some of the most severe abdominal pain I had ever felt. The worst of it lasted roughly a month, on and off, and then began to slowly go away.

I will never know if the voices I heard for the first time a few weeks later were brought on by the discomfort in my stomach, or the stress of my homeless situation, or if they would have happened anyway. But for whatever reason, the voices had begun, and they would be with me every hour until I began an infrequently prescribed antipsychotic medication in winter of 2008.

Today, in 2022, I cannot believe how far I have come from my New Year’s Day eating contaminated food in 2006. After my initial hospital admission, within about 36 hours, my doctor said I was permanently and totally disabled. Perhaps he thought—how could a young woman who had been living homeless for four years and was hearing voices at all times find a job? Any job? Make friends in the community? Return to college?

And then my first antipsychotic medication left me drugged and exhausted. The untoward side effects of the medication itself left me in great distress and disability until I was eventually transitioned to a different medication.

Today, I have beaten the odds. I work, presenting for audiences about my full recovery from schizophrenia and running the nonprofit foundation I established with a University of Cincinnati professor five years ago. I also sell my memoir and teach piano lessons to two girls. My social life is full. Altogether, my life is one of joy.

In the New Year, as I look back at these sixteen years of my life, I want to give back.

Here are a few programs that I would like to support in 2022 that may encourage others in a similar situation to mine when I was very ill. These are programs that may have been vital to my own recovery, especially if my time homeless had been extended, or if I had been without much family support.

1. Mental Health Courts

I never participated in a mental health court, but I have audited them in Hamilton County, Ohio. Mental health courts offer mentally ill defendants a bridge to restart their lives. If persons on the docket work together with their treatment team (including social workers, nurses, and other professionals, who network with the judge) they have the possibility of vastly improving their lives as they comply with sustained treatment and strive toward their highest level of recovery. Most participants “graduate” from the program and then have their record expunged.

After four years of homelessness, I know how easy it is for the severely mentally ill to end up in the criminal justice system. Mental health courts help rebuild lives and offer a second chance. Had I been arrested again for trespassing at my former university campus, I wonder if I would have been offered an opportunity to participate in a mental health court. I would like to think it would have been an option.

In Hamilton County, Ohio, 92 percent of persons who “graduated” from the mental health court did not commit any offenses after one year of release and 77 percent after four years. (1)

2. Housing First Programs

When I was homeless from 2003 to 2007, especially the last year, when I was living outside, I used to dream that someone would come to offer me housing—not a police officer, but perhaps a social worker or a church representative. "Housing first" programs offer housing to the severely mentally ill, including many of the “chronic homeless” who sleep outside, with no strings attached. And the amazing thing about these programs is that participants often take the initiative and seek mental health assistance and help getting clean from substance abuse and alcoholism all on their own (2). One study revealed that after five years, 88 percent of people in a housing first program remained housed (2).

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3. Homeless Shelters That Also Offer Job Training

In Cincinnati, several nonprofits offer not just a place to sleep, but job training, mentoring, and help finding employment. For a person struggling with a mental illness (or really, anyone) having a job provides a sense of purpose, confidence, and independence. When I was beginning my career as a public speaker, I worked with the Ohio Bureau of Vocational Rehabilitation (BVR) which offered me badly needed career advice and supported me in my goal to work again. The work of Ohio BVR and other groups like it is essential.

Over the next year, I also hope to learn more about individuals like me, and how to help them. I am thankful for the families who write me every day, asking about their mentally ill loved ones and seeking advice. Not only do I feel I am able to give back, but as these families share their lives, I learn more about schizophrenia (and other brain disorders), the course of the illness, and the best steps to take for reaching recovery.

The mentally ill are people just like everyone else with dreams, passions, and a need for purpose, even though a cruel mental illness can sometimes take these aspirations for the future away. When I recovered in 2008, I found myself again. I hope that during 2022, I can help others find themselves again, rebuild their lives, and begin a new life.