Original work from our Writers, Guest Bloggers and Freelancers
In ‘World Builders’, Max (Andrew Cutler) and Whitney (Carmen Molina) are in treatment for a shared personality disorder that renders them both fixated on internal worlds of their own creation. Alone they are socially isolated, focused so much on the maintenance of their private internal retreats that they may be a danger to themselves, but they’re brought together for an experimental treatment designed to quell their internal worlds until they fade away.
The doctor sent me home with a recommendation for a colonoscopy to see if I have inflammatory bowel disease – not to be confused with irritable bowel syndrome. This is where my Google searching picked back up. I furiously searched for answers. What is inflammatory bowel disease? What is the difference between IBD and the more common IBS? Was this disease life threatening?
Put another way: instead of existing inside the world of a film, people with CBS are instead watching a silent production unfolding around them, a production of which they are not actually a part. Indeed, the fact that the hallucinations do not directly interact with the individuals themselves often distinguishes CBS from other disorders like schizophrenia. Patients with CBS are well aware that something isn’t quite right. They are lucid, articulate, intelligent; testing negative for a swath of possible psychiatric and neurological diagnoses.
As I walked down the corridors I remember the sticky feeling on the floor. I could hear the socks peeling up off the heathered white tiles. I remember the man who threw up on himself and then dropped to the floor to do push-ups. I remember the woman I was rooming with who started talking to the ghosts at five a.m. I remember the old woman, white and frail with skin that hung slightly from her muscles, who was terrified that she would be kicked out of her house and ostracized by her daughter’s husband. She was just crying. She was inconsolable for days and then she was moved to a different ward and I’ve never heard of her since.
Friends sometimes ask how my spouse or I are adjusting to my recent neurological diagnosis. It's unusual that someone asks how the changes have affected my immediate family, even though it has caused a massive rewrite of our collective past. So many times before my behavior was described as “difficult” or “frustrating” and needs to be changed to “struggling.” We realize kids born in the 80’s were rarely diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder prior to adulthood. Still, it’s hard not to wonder how my life might be different if I had started therapy a few decades earlier.
It’s a rare, powerful thing to experience an authentic difference in ability in the titular Richard, or to see the disparaging remarks levied on him by friends and enemies directed to an actor that may have a passing familiarity. Rare and powerful is exactly how I’d describe The Gift Theatre’s “Richard III”. This production does more than entertain, it empowers us to demand more representation of long under-represented artists from the theater we see.
The physician's cure for this “slight hysterical tendency” was rest, fresh air and absolutely no work or social gatherings. It is clear as the story progresses what harm this isolation does to the main character. By the end of the story the woman does not want to leave the room that has been enlisted for her rest and envisions herself as a part of the rooms yellow wallpaper – the only stimulus in her secluded world.
Once in a great while, a stage production makes a fantastic impression and the daunting work behind it seems almost effortless. Goodman Theatre’s “The Matchmaker” is charming, delightful and homespun, but for a comedy penned in the 1950’s, this particular telling has a remarkable 2016-era social consciousness. This “Matchmaker” features a cast that is diverse in age, gender, ethnicity and ability, and takes a certain delight in creating an ensemble that is unique and unlikely.
In the last decade, more so even in the last five or six years, mental health and disability visibility has been gaining momentum. Despite this, access to quality care and health resources is still a challenge, especially for those of low incomes and on college campuses. This isn’t news. But for many colleges, I feel as though mental health awareness has become a sort of trend. It’s easy to make posters and signs and organize events, but not so easy to actually create an environment without stigma, and with quality resources. Taking the time to do this is worth it, and the students will thank you.
You grew up going to hospitals. Not because you had appointments, but because I did. So you began to hate hospitals and going to them. But that hasn’t stopped you from visiting me when I’m in the hospital. Every single hospitalization you’ve come to visit me. To put your arms around me and give me a hug. To distract me for a precious few hours, hours that always seemed to pass too fast. Thank you for bringing sunshine into my hospital room. For taking my mind off of what was going on around me.
