Water is crucial for your body mechanics. Your body can’t function without water just as a car can’t run without gas or oil. All the cell and organ functions that make up your entire anatomy and physiology depend on water for their functioning.

• Water serves as a lubricant.
• Water is the base of saliva.
• Water forms the fluid that surrounds your joints.
• Water regulates body temperature because cooling and heating are distributed through perspiration.
• Water helps to alleviate constipation. It moves food through the intestinal tract and eliminates waste. It’s the best detox agent.
• Water helps to regulate metabolism.

Water is crucial to your physiology. So it makes sense that the quality of the water you drink is just as important as the quantity. Drinking water should always be clean and free of contaminants to ensure proper health and wellness.

How much water do you need to drink?
Some experts believe you need to drink one-half of your body weight. For example, if you weigh 160 pounds, you might want to drink at least 80 ounces of water or other fluids per day. Other factors include the amount of physical activity you engage in and the climate where you live.

At least 20% of the water you need comes from the foods you eat. The rest comes from the beverages you drink. Water is probably your best choice because it’s cheap and has no calories or added ingredients.

Sweetened soft drinks and sodas contain added sugar. That means you’re absorbing extra calories without any nutritional value. Sports drinks contain minerals that may help keep your electrolytes in balance. They’re good for recovering after a hard workout, but look out for added sugar and calories you may not want. Fruit and vegetable juices can be a good choice because they contain vitamins and minerals your body needs. Read labels, though. Vegetable juices may be high in sodium. Caffeinated beverages like tea and coffee count, too, but too much caffeine can make you feel jittery.

QUICK TIP:
A trick to ensure you’re drinking your daily allowance of water. Fill a pitcher or jug with the portion of water you need to drink and keep it on your desk at work or handy at home. You now have your goal clearly marked. As you drink, you know you’re on the right track to getting enough water into your body.

And those frequent bathroom trips aren’t a bad thing. The best indicator you’re drinking enough water is when your urine comes out pale yellow to clear. A dark yellow colour, however, shows your body is dehydrated and is concentrating the urine in an effort to conserve water.

Contact me for all your professional writing and mental health advocacy needs.

Sources:
http://www.freedrinkingwater.com/water-education/water-health.htm 
http://nutrition.about.com/od/hydrationwater/a/waterarticle.htm

My brother, Wilson, born nine years after his four older siblings had become our precious “son.” An animated child, his sharp wit made us all laugh. And he was so curious. Kept us busy with his endless stream of questions. We doted on him.

But schizophrenia had changed him. Radically. Into a sad, aloof young man. Who couldn’t communicate with our family.

On rare occasions, Wils had given me a glimpse into his struggles. “I hear voices. They tell me to go to the hardware store. Buy poison. Drink it. Sometimes they ask me to go to Niagara Falls. And jump into the lake.”

Then one day, he just disappeared. Which was so strange. For three months, I had searched for him all over the city—in hospitals, rooming houses and homeless shelters.

Trembling, I unlocked the door. My thoughts raced around wildly. Could my brother be in some kind of trouble? Committed a crime? I just couldn’t shut off the noise in my head.

I phoned Detective Cook.

“Hi, Grace. I have something to tell you. The issue is serious. I cannot discuss it over the phone. I’ll be right over.”

That really distressed me. I paced in my small living room. My brother must be in awful trouble. That’s why Detective Cook couldn’t talk over the phone. But nothing, nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to hear.

The buzzer rang. It was Detective Cook. Even before I heard the knock, I opened the door. Detective Cook had bushy eyebrows, making him look stern. He wore plain clothes.

“We found the body of your brother in Lake Ontario this afternoon…” Detective Cook said.

We found the body of your brother? Body? What was this man doing? He was talking about my brother as if he were dead. Why? Wils is only thirty. The youngest child in the family. How can the youngest die first?

“A couple from out of town was strolling along the lakeshore… ” I heard him say. “Spotted a shape out on the lake. They told the police. The Metro Police Marine Unit had to use a chainsaw to hack the body of your brother out of the ice… ”

Body… Hack… Chainsaw… Nothing made any sense.

After a long time, I heard myself talk.

“When can I see my brother?”

“I’m sorry, Grace. His body is frozen solid. It will take about a week for it to thaw out.”

A solid block of ice? I pictured the little ice cubes Wils loved to pop into his mouth and suck on as a child. Only now we weren’t talking about innocuous ice cubes. My brother had become a human block of ice!

“Do you have a photo of your brother?” Detective Cook asked. I gave him a photo of Wils. He left.

I collapsed on the couch. And wept uncontrollably.

I made several phone calls. First to Mom.

“Mom, Wils is no longer with us.” Mom had spent most of the afternoon weeping.

“News. Heard…about a body. In Lake Ontario.” Her maternal instincts had kicked in. She knew it was her baby—her “angel Wilson.”

“Mom, I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

I phoned Dad.

“Oh, my God!” he cried.

Next I phoned my oldest brother James in Singapore. And my three other siblings.

I went to bed, but sleep eluded me. Propped against the pillows, I gazed at all the photos I had of Wils. Until light filtered in through the curtains. It was dawn.

James flew in from Singapore two days later.

As an environmentalist, James wanted my brother’s body cremated. Mom and I resisted. Wils had been ravaged in life emotionally and mentally by such a dreadful illness. We wanted to make sure his body was preserved intact in death. James yielded to us.

Dad and James worked together to find a funeral home, pick out a casket, find a priest to conduct the funeral service and a burial site.

The coroner finally delivered his report. Now we could bury Wils.

On the day of the funeral, the snow was falling gently. Father Philip preached a short but moving sermon.

The light snowfall had made the cemetery grounds a bit slippery. With my hand in the crook of Mom’s elbow, we both walked to the burial plot.

The casket was closed. “Open it! Open it!” Mom cried. She wanted one final glimpse of her baby. Mom burst into a fit of weeping. I fought hard to choke back my tears. When Mom had calmed down, she placed a rosary and some dried yellow rose petals from her garden on the casket.

My brother’s death paralyzed me. With grief and depression. For about a year. It marked a very low point in my life. I couldn’t work. And tons of regrets beset me. I should have done this. I should have done that. Made myself more available to Wils. But I’ve finally arrived at peace with myself. I know Wils would have wanted me to.

This year Wils would have turned forty-seven. He now has a new body. A new mind. A new wholeness in Christ. Voices no longer torment him. He lives in peace. In glory. And best of all? I shall see him again—in eternity.

Contact me for all your professional writing and mental health advocacy needs.

Bipolar disorder, with its many ravaging faces, had stalked me for 28 years. During manic phases, I’d lost jobs, squandered money I didn’t have and engaged in casual sex. When I became depressed, it left me so debilitated I hid under my bedcovers for days.

But that particular summer, depression wrapped itself around me like an iron cloak I couldn’t shake off. Each moment dragged like eternity. I sank into despair. Life became unbearable. I had only one recourse—suicide.

I planned it all. Researched the Compendium of Pharmaceuticals and Specialties: The Canadian Drug Reference for Health Professionals. Read what dose of the medications I had would cause a coma. Just take more than that. Way, way more. That should cause death.

On the pre-arranged night, I placed the vials of meds on my kitchen counter. One by one, I emptied them all. Between gulping glasses of milk. Then I lay down on my bed. “Tonight is my last night.”

Dad found me lying in a coma eleven days later. He rushed me to the hospital.

My kidneys had shut down completely. Liz, my sister said, “At one time, twelve doctors were working together on the dialysis machine. To flush out all the poisons from your system.”

I had stopped breathing. The doctors hooked me up to a ventilator.

But they offered no hope. They said to Dad, “Your daughter will be a vegetable for life. You’ll have to send her for warehousing.”

As soon as my pastor heard what had happened, he called up my closest friends. They held two prayer meetings. And begged the Lord to heal me. A few days later, I regained consciousness. Clearly, the big guy up there still had work for me to do.

But I couldn’t speak. I tried to communicate with pencil and paper. I struggled. Why wasn’t my hand obeying the messages my brain was sending?

It was a long slow process to recovery. I still have the childish scrawls—very different from my usual, beautiful script—my attempts to ‘speak’ with family and friends.

And my leg muscles had grown flaccid. Just after three weeks of lying immobile on my back. I had to learn to walk again. First with a four-wheeled walker, then a pair of crutches and finally a cane. 

“You won’t be working for a long time,” my GP said, during my first visit with him after my discharge from the hospital. And for the next couple of years, I believed him! I didn’t work.

Then I heard about Biz Futures—a program designed for adults with disabilities who wish to start and run our own small businesses. I phoned the coordinator of the program. And became a student there. Experts taught us all aspects of what it takes to run a business:

• Marketing strategies
• Presentation skills
• Business operations
• Pricing strategies
• Time management
• Mission statements
• Positioning
• Market research
• Business vision
• Business finance
• Stress management

I graduated from the program. Ready to run my business.

Today I earn a living by offering professional writing services and speaking to audiences about what it’s like to live with mental illness.

I still struggle with the cycles of bipolar disorder. But I’ve made a vow to myself. I shall never put my family through such agony again. I now take serious measures—pracise my unique personal medicine—to manage my illness for my sake and my family’s. These measures include:

• Medications: I take them every night.
• Exercise: I walk every chance I get. To the bank. The psychiatrist’s office. The grocery store. The studio where I paint. And I walk fast. This releases the endorphins—the “feel good” hormones.
• Routine: I wake up at the same time each morning and try to go to bed at the same time each night.
• Socializing: I live alone. So it’s very important for me to connect with other human beings. I book dates (coffee, lunch or dinner) with family and friends.
• Taking care of Mom: She lives in a nursing home. Mom has raised five children single-handedly. No mean task. I visit her three times a week. And always cook a little food for her. Just a tiny gesture to show my gratitude. I can never repay her. She sacrificed her entire life for her children. The greatest gift I can offer Mom? My time.
• Creative outlet: Just a few years ago, I took up painting. And I enjoy this so much.
• Earning a living: I cannot work in an office from 9:00–5:00 because of my mental health problems. But I can work around these issues by running my own business. Working again has greatly empowered me: I enjoy a renewed sense of healing, self-esteem, pride and dignity.

Contact me for all your professional writing and mental health advocacy needs.

And I didn’t understand what was happening. Nor did my family. We had just arrived in Canada. But we were continuing to live at home just as if we were still in Malaysia—where we had immigrated from.

After about a week of this, I talked with one my teachers. My favourite—Mr. J. I said, “I just can’t focus in class.”

“Why don’t you take the pressure off yourself and stay home for a week?”

I did. But I didn’t want to fall behind in school. There were still assignments to hand in. For one project, our class had to pair up. My partner, Wendy, came over to my home. We worked on the assignment together. When I returned to school after the week, everything seemed fine.

But a few years later, I ran into the same problem. I was in my second year of university, at McMaster. Only this time it was worse. I’d sit in class. Not absorb a thing. After every single lecture, I’d say to my roommate, “I’m depressed!”

It was many years later before I understood the full meaning of the word, ‘depressed.’ No one talked about mental health issues in the 70s. It’s just a bit better now. But how could I possibly write the exams and expect to pass when I couldn’t focus at all? I dropped out.

The first time I was admitted to a psychiatric ward was at the Mississauga Hospital (now known as the Trillium Health Centre). It became my ‘home’ many times. Not by choice. No, not by a long shot.

And it was there that I experienced violence. Of a sort I never dreamed possible. Violence against people like me—who struggle with mental illness. Violence against us. When we’re going through one of the most vulnerable periods of our lives.

I hated being in the hospital. Who wouldn’t? So I kept running out of the ward. Every chance I got. I wasn’t a danger to myself. Or anyone else. But the nurses couldn’t be bothered chasing after me. So they placed me in a four-point restraint. Yes. Four-point. It means exactly what it says. They strapped my arms and legs tightly to the four posts of the bed.

Even though this happened over thirty years ago, I can still remember the face and name of the nurse. Jan. She said to her colleagues, “Tie her—spread-eagle fashion.” With cruel relish.

At the Misissauga Hospital, they strapped me down not just once. But. Many. Times.  Every time I broke free of my restraints, they tied me down again.

Here is a painting I did—a self-portrait of that experience which took place at the Mississauga Hospital over thirty years ago. When I was twenty.

During the last thirty-nine years, I can count at least thirteen admissions to different psychiatric wards:

• Lakeshore Psychiatric Hospital (now Lakeshore Hospital)
• Queen Street Mental Health Centre (now the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health )
• the Clarke Institute of Psychiatry(now also the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health)
• North York Hospital
• Sunnybrook Health Centre
• Women’s College Hospital
• Mount Sinai Hospital

But the Lord was was really gracious to me. No one subjected me to this cruel treatment in any of the other hospitals.

Do I condone the use of restraints in the mental health system?  Yes. But only in the following situations:

• when people are a danger to themselves; or
• a danger to others

These are the only two instances when using restraints in the mental health system can be justified.

Contact me for all your professional writing and mental health advocacy needs.

But this year, the Gems Committee decided to do things differently. Our studio assistant, Marlena, invited some of us artists to submit paintings. She said a jury would then decide which pieces should be entered into the auction, based on our technical skills, creativity, the medium we used and some other requirements.

When I paint, I use realism to reflect my subjects. This is a style in art  where subjects in a painting are shown as close to ‘reality’ as possible, i.e., the way the subject actually looked.

But for the auction, I decided to try something different—use an abstract style. The result? The painting featured on this page. There are lots of colours in this painting? But there is an image in it. Can you see it? I’d love to hear your comments.

It’s very difficult to talk about mental illness. It carries a stigma that leads to discrimination. We’re afraid we’ll lose friendships and feel isolated. This leads to unnecessary suffering and death. Stigma is also one of the biggest barriers to seeking treatment worldwide.

But it doesn’t have to be this way. Talking about mental illness can:

• take the mystery out of it
• strengthen friendships
• help with recovery
• break down stereotypes
• take the taboo out of something that affects us all

Bell is launching its second annual Bell Let’s Talk Day on February 8, 2012.

Myth or fact?
Challenging the myths about mental illness can be a good way to get us thinking and talking…

• Myth: People with mental illness can’t work.
  Fact: Chances are we probably work with someone who struggles with mental illness.

• Myth: Mental health problems are very rare.
  Fact: Mental health problems affect one in five people.

• Myth: People with mental illness never recover.
  Fact: People with mental illness can and do recover.

• Myth: People with mental health problems are different from normal people.
  Fact: There is no measurable standard for who is ‘normal.’

• Myth: After experiencing a mental health problem, people are weaker.
  Fact: Many people who go through mental health problems actually feel stronger.

• Myth: People with mental illnesses are violent and unpredictable.
  Fact: People with mental illness are more likely to become victims of violence.

• Myth: It’s best to leave people alone if they develop a mental health problem.
  Fact: Most people with mental health problems want to keep in touch with friends, family and colleagues. This can be a great help in their recovery.

• Myth: I don’t know anyone with a mental illness.
  Fact: Someone we know or love has experienced a mental illness or struggles with it.

• Myth: People aren’t discriminated against because of mental health problems.
  Fact: Nine out of ten people with mental health problems experience stigma and discrimination.

Contact me for all your professional writing and mental health advocacy needs.

Sources:
http://time-to-change.org.uk/take-action/talk-about-mental-health
http://camimh.ca/2012/01/the-second-annual-bell-lets-talk-day-is-coming-up-on-wednesday-february-8-2012/#more-339
http://www.newswire.ca/en/story/905865/bell-let-s-talk-2012-join-the-conversation-to-support-canadian-mental-health

Highlights

• Mental illness indirectly affects all Canadians through illness in a family member, friend or colleague.

• One in five Canadians experiences mental illness and depends on support from families, communities, the economy and a stretched social service system.

• Mental illness affects people of all ages, educational and income levels, and cultures.

• The onset of most mental illnesses occurs during adolescence and young adulthood.

• A complex interplay of genetic, biological, personality and environmental factors causes mental illnesses.

• Mental illness can be treated effectively.

• Mental illness is costly to the individual, the family, the health care system and the community.

• The economic cost of mental illness in Canada was estimated to be at least $7.331 billion in 1993.

• Eight-six percent of hospitalizations for mental illness in Canada occur in general hospitals.

• In 1999, 3.8% of all admissions in general hospitals (1.5 million hospital days) were due to anxiety disorders, bipolar disorders, schizophrenia, major depression, personality disorders, eating disorders and suicidal behaviour.

• The stigma attached to mental illnesses presents a serious barrier to diagnosis, treatment and acceptance in the community.

In the course of a lifetime, every individual experiences feelings of isolation, loneliness, emotional distress or disconnection at times. These are usually normal, short-term reactions to difficult situations, rather than symptoms of mental illness. People learn to cope with difficult feelings just as they learn to cope with difficult situations.

But in many cases, the duration and intensity of painful feelings or disorienting thought patterns may interfere seriously with everyday life. Ordinary coping skills are taxed, and people may need help in regaining balance and restoring their fullest functioning.

Mental illness can be treated. A variety of interventions, such as psychotherapy, cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT), medication, occupational therapy and social work can improve an individual’s functioning and quality of life. Since mental illnesses involve disorders of brain functioning, medication often forms an important part of treatment.

Making the correct diagnosis and tailoring effective treatment to the individual’s needs are important for an overall management plan. Treatment is more effective when individuals are active in the choice of therapy, Sometimes, alternative decision-makers may need to get involved to protect the health of the individual.

Treatment requires a variety of health and social service providers and volunteers working together to provide a comprehensive system of services. When service providers work as a team, they ensure continuity of care.

Contact me for all your professional writing and mental health advocacy needs.

Source:
http://www.phac-aspc.gc.ca/publicat/miic-mmac/chap_1-eng.php

The Tobaggoners. Children find joy in such simple things as coasting down a snowy slope.

That particular afternoon, we walked over to Withrow Park. What I saw warmed my heart. Kids were playing in the snow. Others were tobogganing. When children fell off the toboggans or slid off them, they just dusted themselves off and walked right back to the peak of the hill. And started all over. I love kids. They’re resilient. Fearless. Free spirits.

I tried to photograph the children. Have you ever tried to capture a moving subject on film? I hadn’t. If you train your camera on your subject, you don’t get what you want. Because your subject has already moved way past your view finder. Sounds like common sense, right? But this was new to me. A novice photographer.

Sean gave me an important tip. Stand near the foot of the slope. And focus my camera on where I expect my subject to be within a couple of seconds. That made all the difference! I captured what I had set my sights on—a shot of a child flying down the slope.

A few days later, I did the same thing at Riverdale Park—near Riverdale Farm. There were loads of kids tobogganing there. I took more photos.

I printed up the shots I had taken. Then I created a collage, using photos of three of the children. And that’s how I produced my painting, The Tobogganers.

What has hit me? Seasonal affective disorder. This is a form of depression which becomes worse during the darker winter months because of the shortening daylight hours. One day I feel fine and then the next, lousy. Really lousy.

Research suggests that seasonal affective disorder may respond to a nutritional approach. The sun’s rays stimulate the production of vitamin D in the skin. This nutrient plays key roles in the brain. Scientists have done tests to find out whether vitamin D might help lift the symptoms of seasonal affective disorder.

In one such study just five days of treatment with vitamin D, at a dose of 400 or 800 international units (IU) per day, was found to improve winter mood. In another piece of research, the mood of people who suffered with seasonal affective disorder improved more in individuals treated with a single dose of 100,000 IU of vitamin D than in those treated with light therapy. More evidence for the potential of vitamin D to alleviate seasonal affective disorder came from research published in 2004. In this study, individuals were treated with either 600 or 4,000 IU of vitamin D each day for at least six months. Both dosages of vitamin D led to improvements in the participants’ mood and general well-being. But those on the higher dose of vitamin D benefited the most.

I open my fridge. That bums me out. My trusty bottle of vitamin D oil is empty! I do have a backup treatment plan. But I’m not even motivated to try it out. That’s how badly seasonal affective disorder affects me.

But lying around in bed till the early afternoon for a couple of weeks does nothing for my self-esteem or productivity. So I finally reach into the kitchen cupboard for my backup plan—a bottle of essential oil of lavender which my brother, David, has bought me. I get my ceramic pinch pot which I’ve made at the studio, place a cotton ball in it and then pour a few drops of the precious oil on the cotton ball. And all day while I’m working at the computer, I inhale the beautiful fragrant lavender oil.

And you know what? The very next morning I feel better. So much better that I get out of bed at 8:30—instead of 12:00 or 12:30. Quite an improment, huh? Aromatherapy has helped me chase away the seasonal affective disorder.

How does aromatherapy work? Essential oils can stimulate specific areas of the brain to release serotonin and help alleviate the symptoms of seasonal affective disorder.

A 2006 study investigating the effects of lavender fragrance on sleep and depression, published in the Taehan Kanho Hakhoe Chi Journal, revealed that lavender fragrance had a beneficial effect on insomnia and depression in female college students.

There are different ways of using aromatherapy:

Cosmetic Aromatherapy
We can take long soaks in luxuriously scented hot baths, but remember that extreme heat destroys the properties of the oils. So the water should be a comfortable temperature. We can also combine essential oils and apply to our hair, feet, face, skin and body. This may recharge us.

Massage Aromatherapy
Seasonal affective disorder may leave us feeling sluggish and unmotivated (as it did in my case). Aromatic oils combined with massage touch help to relax and rejuvenate the body.

Olfactory Aromatherapy
Olfactory aromatherapy is the most effective way to stimulate the brain and limbic system. We can spray distilled water mixed with natural essential oils into the air. Using aromatherapy equipment (aroma lamps and room sprays), we can also disperse essential oils into the environment. And, of course, we can apply the quick and dirty method I used—place a couple of drops of oil on a cotton ball.

A note of caution: Buy 100% pure products made from plants with no added synthetic substances. Look for natural and organic essential oils. It’s best to use oils bottled in opaque (dark) glass, and steer clear of oils that do not list both the common and Latin botanical name.

Oh, a sidebar: I’ve been inhaling lavender oil for the last two days. But this morning, I was wide awake at 4:30 a.m. So I’m writing this post at dawn. You can’t win ‘em all.

Contact me for all your professional writing and mental health advocacy needs.

Sources:
http://www.drbriffa.com/2004/10/03/seasonal-affective-disorder-sad/
http://www.positivehealth.com/article/aromatherapy/aromatherapy-for-seasonal-affective-disorder-sad

Here are nine principles of the recoverybased approach:

• Hope is central to recovery. We can enhance our lives when we see how we can take more active control over our lives and see how others have moved forward.
• We can, and do recover from mental health problems. Recovery and rehabilitation should, therefore, be integral to mental health care and treatment.
• It’s important for professionals to encourage and facilitate our own self-management. However, what works may be very different for each one of us.
• Mental health services are generally not good at promoting recovery. Professionals are generally not trained in a recovery-oriented approach. But they should support us in trying to achieve the goals we set for ourselves, even if they believe our goals are not realistic.
• The relationship between professionals and patients moves away from being expert/patient to being ‘coaches’ or ‘partners’ on our journey of discovery. As patients, we can expect clinicians to listen to us on general life issues and provide us with the information, skills and support we need to manage our condition and become active and responsible in our own recovery. We must expect help from them to access what we think we need to live meaningful lives.
• None of us can recover in isolation. We need to be able to take on meaningful and satisfying social roles within our communities, rather than in segregated services.
• Recovery is about discovering—or rediscovering—a sense of personal identity, separate from our illness or disability.
• The development of recovery-based services emphasizes the personal qualities of staff, as much as their formal qualifications. Staff need to cultivate their capacity for hope, creativity, care, compassion, realism and resilience.
• Family and other supporters are often crucial to recovery and they should be included as partners, wherever possible. However, peer support is central for many of us in recovery.

In general, recovery is a process—a process of re-establishing our identity other than that of patient—of gaining the knowledge, insight and wisdom to direct our own treatment, and of being empowered to make decisions to develop meaning and purpose in our lives. Ultimately, recovery is a very personal and self-defined journey.

Contact me for all your professional writing and mental health advocacy needs.