My Mental Illness Recovery Bio for i2i, December 2024

I am looking for Advocate Extraordinaire Opportunities. 

At i2i, watch for The Baby Giant Panda for Special photo ops. We grow to be very large! 

Short Version

My Mental Illness Recovery Bio. 

Seeking Advocate Extraordinaire Opportunities.

Before age ten, I faced a significant challenge when struck by a baseball bat in Garrison Park, Williamsville, NY, where neighborhood kids were getting ready to play softball. I walked right into the neighborhood bully who was warming up. Dizzy, I was put on the fender of a three-speed bike and told to hold on. Once home Mom told me to rest on the cot on our screened-in back porch, and I blacked out. I am not sure if being slammed caused me a brain injury, but afterward, it seemed like people were talking too fast, and I found it hard to keep up in school. I found myself constantly trying to hear and listen better.

I graduated from Buffalo State University with a Bachelor's degree, still not before having several psychotic breakdowns. In the first incident, I was handcuffed and transported by police and diverted by my beloved parents to Buffalo State Psych Hospital with their advocacy that neighbors would not press charges. Where they urged me to sign voluntarily, and when the insurance money ran out, I was released. 

As a 'failure to launch 'individual, I had a few more psychotic breakdowns but eventually left my hometown for Madison to attend graduate school. I faced difficulties and dropped out by the end of my first semester. I went on Medicaid for six months and realized that although I'd have economic help, it would be a life killer for me. I cut my cards and decided it was best to struggle and live poor but challenged to grow. So, I continued to seek employment. I remained determined to forge my own path.  

I found employment through a program called Operation Fresh Start and worked alongside Juvenile delinquents in the remodeling of old homes. Staff from OFS took me to the labor temple, where I passed the math test by a squeaker, and got my ticket to apply for union carpentry work. Union word paid well. Also, I knew what to wear every day: steal toe boots, a hard hat, a tool belt, and yes, tools, and there was a pathway to follow. I worked hard and knew where I would go most every day. I traveled around Madison and always was working my way out of employment. In retrospect, the stars aligned themselves for me, or maybe it was just the culture that aligned; through an employment agency, there was a tradeswoman support group; through our government, there was affirmative action; and through strong labor laws, there was the labor temple.

This experience led me to gain journey carpenter status and later opened up other career paths. I worked as an instructor for Milwaukee Trade and Technical High School, where I was their first woman shop teacher. I had options to teach at three different schools in the Milwaukee area. Instead of teaching at a middle school for IDD youth, I let it go to my head and made a poor career choice my first year to teach three different classes: drafting, shop, and carpentry. I didn't last the year; my hair turned gray, and I subbed for the remainder of the year. 

Later, In an attempt to continue my journey to make it easier for me to go back to school, I called a psychiatrist's office. They sounded nasty, and they wanted me to pay $1000 to take a test. Instead, I found a free clinic that prescribed the newest designer drugs, and I was on my way to reapplying for graduate school, so in an effort to combine my work experience with higher education, I decided to pursue a master's degree in Industrial Relations. While in grad school, worked as a news co-anchor for a listener-sponsored radio show and interviewed labor leaders. 

In Wisconsin, those who knew me called me a survivor. Amidst my continual personal mental health challenges, isolation, and gut-wrenching unhappiness, I made the courageous decision to join the Peace Corps. This experience was a significant step in my journey, not only in my work but also in my personal growth and resilience. I spent over two years trying to learn a foreign language, engaging with my community in the Dominican Republic, and contributing to community economic development. To apply, I was required to submit records from my hospitalization decades earlier. I was fascinated when I got copies of the thick document, the diagnosis, and the Peace Corps assessment that I had overcome mental health barriers. So I was good to go. 

Upon returning Statewide, my elderly parents, who had moved from upstate NY to Appalachia for retirement, wanted me to advocate for their healthcare accessibility. Since I had no healthcare, I committed myself to maintaining a healthy lifestyle, and with this new opportunity, I set out to devote myself to caring for my folks. In a sense, I was hidden scaffolding supporting my folks in their chosen lifestyle: living happily at home in their retirement years. 

While serving as a caregiver, the director of the Recovery Education Center in Boone, NC, whom I knew through my church, learned I had an SMI sibling and recruited me to teach a NAMI family-to-family class with her. I learned about a possible career path as a CPSS from those networks. Also, I began to teach NAMI programs and got to travel a bit. 

I got involved in health care with CFAC (Consumer and Family Advisory Committee) primarily because I have a severely mentally ill sibling who receives Medicaid, and I wanted to be a strong advocate for him. Through Vaya Health, I became a Certified Peer Support Specialist, attending conferences highlighting current research and leadership challenges across the State. I have served as chairperson for the Human Rights Committee for the Managed Care Organization VAYA Health for over ten years.

My journey has shaped my commitment to serving others and promoting well-being within my community and homeland. 

Long Version

Before age ten, I faced a significant challenge when struck by a baseball bat in Garrison Park, Williamsville, NY, where neighborhood kids were getting ready to play softball. I walked right into the neighborhood bully who was warming up. Dizzy, my brother and others, put me on the fender of a three-speed bike and told me to hold on. When I got home, the doctor made a house call, and Mom told me to rest on the cot on our screened-in back porch, and I blacked out. I am not sure if being slammed caused me a brain injury, but afterward, it seemed like people were talking too fast, and I found it hard to keep up in school. I found myself constantly trying to hear and listen better. But maybe this characteristic is due more to a survival tactic for dealing with my mother. My mother was hard of hearing, really nearly deaf, and had almost lost her life to scarlet fever when she was almost the age I'd been when my accident happened. Hearing aids make it worse for her, and the stigma from her inability to hear meant that she didn't engage much in conversation, so I was always waiting to hear her or waiting to listen. It took me years to be able to talk and still longer to speak comfortably. 

My childhood was filled with some unique experiences, from summers spent traveling with my family camping in other States such as Maine, journeying out west and up in Canada, to living in Paris for six months with a penthouse view of the Eiffel Tower when my Dad was on Sabbatical. We even traversed Europe by rail. Adding to my diverse perspective, I nearly lost my life in Paris, but that's not a fun story. 

I graduated from Buffalo State University with a Bachelor's degree, still not before having several psychotic breakdowns. In the first incident, I was handcuffed and transported by police and diverted by my beloved parents to Buffalo State Psych Hospital with their advocacy that neighbors would not press charges. Where they urged me to sign voluntarily, and when the insurance money ran out, I was released. Yes, there is more of a story. Later, my Mom, my hero, connected me to some innovative ways of healing in recovery, and I traveled to several different locals. She was my hero, a wounded bird who could never fly, or maybe just an ostrich or penguin. I know it pained her deeply to see me have mental health problems, and that made her mad, but she was very measured in her expression.

My academic journey was not without its challenges. As a 'failure to launch 'individual, I had a few more psychotic breakdowns but eventually left my hometown for Madison to attend graduate school. I faced difficulties and dropped out by the end of my first semester. I went on Medicaid for six months and realized that although I'd have economic help, it would be a life killer for me. I cut my cards and decided it was best to struggle and live poor but challenged to grow. So, I continued to seek employment. I remained determined to forge my own path.  

I found employment through a program called Operation Fresh Start and worked alongside Juvenile delinquents in the remodeling of old homes. Staff from OFS took me to the labor temple, where I passed the math test by a squeaker. I got my ticket to apply for union carpentry work. Union word paid well. Also, I knew what to wear every day: steal toe boots, a hard hat, a tool belt, and yes, tools, and there was a pathway to follow. I worked hard and knew where I would go most every day. I traveled around Madison and always was working my way out of employment. When I wasn't working, I collected unemployment. In retrospect, the stars aligned themselves for me, or maybe it was just the culture that aligned; through an employment agency, there was a tradeswoman support group; through our government, there was affirmative action; and through strong labor laws, there was the labor temple. One of the most insulting things said to me on a job site was that you can make more money on your back. I am not sure, but maybe he was trying to compliment me. 

This experience led me to gain journey carpenter status and later opened up other career paths. I worked as an instructor for Milwaukee Trade and Technical High School, where I was their first woman shop teacher. I had options to teach at three different schools in the Milwaukee area. Instead of teaching at a middle school for IDD youth, I let it go to my head and made a poor career choice my first year to teach three different classes: drafting, shop, and carpentry at a technical high school where students were not just getting their GED they were also getting an advanced degree. I didn't last the year; my hair turned gray, and I subbed for the remainder of the year. 

Some family friends asked me if I wanted to be a man. I couldn't answer at the time, and I was astounded by the question, but in retrospect, I didn't want to be a woman or engage with the institution of marriage, so that left me rather isolated. Later, when facilitating a panel of LGBTQ+ folks via the public library, I began to understand how I might be a they/them, but to be more accurate, maybe just a baby giant panda.

I'd finally figured out I could do stuff in life and have a fantastic life or some unique experiences. So I was on to my favorite summer working as an assistant director on Case Lake at Star Island in the Guinness Book of World Records because Case Island has a lake inside the island. So, it is a lake inside an island within a lake in Minnesota. So that summer, having never lived on a lake, I learned to operate three motor vehicles: pontoon, motor boat, and Boston Whaler, where I transported campers or supplies. 

Later, In an attempt to continue my journey to make it easier for me to go back to school, I called a psychiatrist's office. They sounded nasty, and they wanted me to pay $1000 to take a test. Instead, I found a free clinic that prescribed the newest designer drugs, and I was on my way to reapplying for graduate school, so in an effort to combine my work experience with higher education, I decided to pursue a master's degree in Industrial Relations. While in grad school, worked as a news co-anchor for a listener-sponsored radio show and interviewed labor leaders. 

After graduation, I sought a track for employment with which was less stressful, less dangerous and more aligned with my destiny. 

My diverse experience equipped me with a unique skill set, which I utilized while working for the Community Action Coalition and serving on the Transit Cooperative Research Board. I was one of four people nationally serving on their board, and they flew me to Washington, Detroit, and Miami for their national meetings. This experience broadened my horizons and honed my adaptability and versatility, demonstrating my ability to thrive in various environments. 

In Wisconsin, those who knew me called me a survivor. Amidst my continual personal mental health challenges, isolation, and gut-wrenching unhappiness, I made the courageous decision to join the Peace Corps. This experience was a significant step in my journey, not only in my work but also in my personal growth and resilience. I spent over two years trying to learn a foreign language, engaging with my community in the Dominican Republic, and contributing to community economic development. To apply, I was required to submit records from my hospitalization decades earlier. I was fascinated when I got copies of the thick document, the diagnosis, and the Peace Corps assessment that I had overcome mental health barriers. So I was good to go. 

A few highlights of my personal experience in the DR are for the first time, I both scuba dived and snorkeled in the Caribbean Sea, became friends with a Taino Scholar who had come to the island on a Fulbright scholarship, and lived and worked there full time. We are still friends today, and I have followed her on her journey. I lived in a pink casa without running water, plumbing, or reliable electricity like almost everyone else in this country of beautiful people. During my break, Instead of visiting Statewide, I went to Costa Rica for a 24-day multi-element course where, via Outward Bound, we ventured along the Pan-American trial and slept in the jungles along outposts and waysides, witnessing deforestation firsthand and finally ended up in the Caribbean on the east side. Look at my LinkedIn page for more information about my service. This journey has shaped me into a resilient and determined individual, and I am committed to using my experiences to advocate for mental health awareness and support. 

Upon returning Statewide, my elderly parents, who had moved from upstate NY to Appalachia for retirement, wanted me to advocate for their healthcare accessibility. Dad was downright suspicious, if not paranoid, of US Healthcare, and he would not see a doctor for routine exams, which he thought to be unnecessary money-makers for the healthcare industry. Routine exams such as a colonoscopy he refused and basically believed were useless. Eventually, he saw a doctor at my urging, but that's a different story. Since I had no healthcare, I committed myself to maintaining a healthy lifestyle, and with this new opportunity, I set out to devote myself to caring for my folks. In a sense, I was hidden scaffolding supporting my folks in their chosen lifestyle: living happily at home in their retirement years. 

While serving as a caregiver, the director of the Recovery Education Center in Boone, NC, whom I knew through my church, learned I had an SMI sibling and recruited me to teach a NAMI family-to-family class with her. This experience has deeply influenced my advocacy work, giving me a unique understanding and passion for mental health advocacy. I learned about a possible career path as a CPSS from those networks. Also, I began to teach NAMI programs and got to travel a bit. 

I had a few other opportunities during this time. I worked a brief stint overseas teaching ESL TEFL in China on the Huazhong University of Science and Technology campus, where I got to walk through a lotus park every day on my way to work. I traveled to Nicaragua, where I nearly lost my life during a swell while kayaking at sea. I had various adventures and aging experiences in Mexico and cities around our county. 

I also worked as a Basic Education Teacher for Wilkes Community College with the IDD community on their independent learning projects. When my mother had a bad fall and developed a bilateral lung clot, she ended up in the emergency room. It was all too much, and life itself decided that I would devote all my efforts to her recovery and caregiving for my family. 

I got involved in health care with CFAC (Consumer and Family Advisory Committee) primarily because I have a severely mentally ill sibling who receives Medicaid, and I wanted to be a strong advocate for him. Through Vaya Health, I became a Certified Peer Support Specialist, attending conferences highlighting current research and leadership challenges across the State. I have served as chairperson for the Human Rights Committee for the Managed Care Organization VAYA Health for over ten years.

Today, I have Medicare, but I believe in the power of preventive measures to ensure a long and healthy life. My journey has shaped my commitment to serving others and promoting well-being within my community. 

Some additional items:

The North Carolina Forest Service also honored me with a Woodland Sanctuary award, recognizing my outstanding resource management and exemplary improvement to the forest's wildlife, soil and water, timber, recreation, and aesthetics for current and future generations. When my beloved folks passed, their beautiful mountain property was passed on to me, and I wished to maintain it as a healthy sanctuary. 

I successfully researched and negotiated a fair-market Christmas Tree Lease on several acres of mountain property with local growers. 

Also, leadership requested that I serve on the Statewide Steering committee to help found a NAMI NC STATE Peer Leadership Council. This past spring, we held our first retreat in over five years in Raleigh, NC, where over twenty people from the State attended. 

Also, McFarland & Co. published an anthology of Ashe County photographers this year, including some of my photography. The book acknowledges the many agencies in Ashe as "the keepers of the heart, soul, and beauty of Ashe County." 

But it's the Clarence quote from a fictional guardian angel in "It's a Wonderful Life" that captures my experiences. The quote says, "I knew if I were drowning, you'd try to save me. You see, you did, and that's how I saved you." So, as an advocate, former and sometimes presently hidden scaffolding, I am practically engaged in family, community, and economics, which are essential elements in leadership, advocacy, and making life worth living. 

Was there a substance use disorder h#!! Yes, but that's another timeline. 

My mother was disabled but went on to higher education at the University of Minnesota, where she earned all the credits for a master's degree but never completed the thesis. In the 1930s, She sat in the front row of the class and read lips. My brother and I were a second generation of children. Mom had a front page tribute in Minneapolis Tribute when, years later, I got the university to award her with her Master of Social Work. She was my hero, a wounded bird who could never fly, or maybe just an ostrich or penguin. I know it pained her deeply to see me have mental health problems, and that made her mad, but she was very measured in her expression. My Mom learned about NAMI when it first started in Madison, WI, and directed me to Journey of Hope, as it was first called. She was a key advocate for my sibling in later years and ensured he'd be connected as time went on. As a family member, I continue her advocacy today.