When Suzanne McKeel saw her daughter sitting outside the Garfield Community Service Center, she barely recognized her. Valerie’s clothes were dirty, her hair unwashed, her eyes unfocused. She had been discharged from a psychiatric facility and left to wander the streets for ten days without anyone telling Suzanne. The security guards had let her stay inside, out of kindness.

“I held her and told her we were going home,” Suzanne recalls.

A life interrupted

It all began in 2008. Valerie was 32—working full-time at a hotel, dating, building a life. Then she was diagnosed with schizophrenia. At first, there was hope that with the right treatment, she could get her life back.

In 2010, Valerie was placed in a mental health facility and did well for about a year. But by 2013, she stopped taking her medication. A few months later, she was arrested after an episode at a Walgreens. A judge ordered her to receive treatment and sent her to a state hospital for a year.

When she returned home in 2015, it felt like a second chance. “For a while, I had my daughter back,” Suzanne says. But in late 2021, Valerie stopped her medication again—and the cycle began all over.

The cycle of crisis

By March 2022, the medicine was out of her system. The paranoia returned. Suzanne called every number she could find, trying to get her daughter help. Eventually, she reached NAMI Chicago—and met Laney, a Clinical Support Manager who became her lifeline.

“Laney guided me step by step,” Suzanne recalls. “She called every week to check on me. Without her, I would’ve given up.”

Valerie was placed back in a facility but discharged in April 2023 without her mother’s knowledge. That’s when Suzanne found her outside the Garfield Community Service Center and brought her back home. Valerie would improve for a while, then relapse.

In early 2024, she became aggressive and erratic. Police took her to a hospital, but she refused treatment. Every time Valerie’s symptoms worsen, Suzanne has to go in person to the Daley Center and testify before a judge to request an order for an involuntary psychiatric evaluation at a hospital — the last resort when someone is in danger and everything else has failed.

By October, she was admitted once again to the same hospital where she’d been diagnosed years earlier. The doctors there tried everything without success.

Laney never stopped calling. “Mrs. McKeel, we’re not going to give up on you and Valerie,” she’d tell her. Suzanne calls her “an angel.”

By early 2025, after multiple medication trials, Valerie was transferred to a skilled nursing center where she finally began improving. By spring, she came home again—quiet, kind, even helpful around the house. “She’s been sweet and calm,” Suzanne says. “I pray every day it stays that way.”

“The system keeps letting us down.”

Suzanne has seen every part of the mental health system—courts, hospitals, nursing homes, jails, and shelters. “It’s like a revolving door,” she says. “You fight to get help, and either the medicine doesn’t work or they discharge her too soon. No one follows up. The system keeps letting us down.”

She believes things could have been different if Valerie had gotten support earlier—before crisis became the only doorway to care. Suzanne often thinks back to Election Day in 2008, when they were standing in line to vote. Valerie turned to her and whispered that the women behind them were talking about her. It was the first clear sign that something was wrong.

“At first it was little things—paranoia, comments about people talking behind her back,” Suzanne says. “If we had gotten help then, before it became a crisis, things could have been different.”

Without strong community-based programs and early intervention, people living with serious mental illness are often left with few options beyond hospitals or nursing homes. By the time Valerie began receiving consistent care, her illness had already taken hold.

“We need more places where people can actually get well, not just survive,” Suzanne says.

A mother’s love

Valerie turned 48 this July. She’s been living with schizophrenia for 17 years—nearly half her life. She couldn’t have children, couldn’t get married. Everything was ripped from her at 32. Her future was taken away so quickly and unexpectedly.

There are long stretches when Valerie doesn’t speak to her mother at all. Sometimes she refers to Suzanne only as “that lady,” and hasn’t called her ma in years.

“She’s my only child. It’s always been me and Valerie against the world,” Suzanne says. “It’s hard, but I refuse to give up on my daughter. When she’s well, she’s the sweetest person you’ll ever meet. And I still believe one day, she’ll be okay.”

The post It’s always been me and Valerie against the world. It’s hard, but I refuse to give up on my daughter. first appeared on NAMI Chicago.

Like so many of the millions of people in this world, I too have struggled with mental illness in my life. But I’ll never forget how I felt when my doctor said “Patrick was a high functioning individual before his diagnosis. There’s no reason to believe he won’t be able to achieve that same level of success moving forward in life”. These hopeful words allowed me to see how I could regain control of my life and learn to manage my symptoms during the onset of my illness. Now, after years of dedicated work and close compliance with my treatment plan, I have made a full recovery from my bipolar disorder. I stand as an example that those living with mental illness can have a successful life.

In December of 2017, while I was living with my family in Chicago, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. My bipolar disorder was brought out by the surmounting stress of my sister’s substance abuse problem. Though my bipolar had been diagnosed, it was not being treated effectively at the time. Struggling with my own mental health and needing to be away from my sister’s challenges, I decided to move back to Washington state, where I had been living months before. While moving, I had my first and only psychotic break with reality and ended up in an altercation with a homeowner and was arrested. Shortly after, I received the harrowing news that my sister had died by suicide. My life was in ruins and it all happened in just a few short months.

I returned home knowing one thing. I knew I needed to take my mental illness seriously. Thanks to a referral from NAMI Chicago, I enrolled in Northwestern’s “Recovery from Early Psychosis” program which proved to make the difference. First, I realized that I was not alone. There were hundreds of stories of young persons who had experienced psychotic-breakdowns and went on to be successful. I met a documentary filmmaker who struggled with psychosis in his youth. It was these types of people who demonstrated that my future could be bright. I also learned the importance of taking medication while living with mental illness. When I was placed on a therapeutic dose of medication, it felt like the difference between night and day. I felt my mood becoming stable and I regained the confidence to start looking for a job. To this day, I consider medication the greatest lifeline for anyone living with mental illness. The program also taught coping skills, how to correct thinking errors, and encouraged wellness habits. After months of learning and hard work, I finished the program and was ready to move forward with my life.

In the years leading up to my mental breakdown, I had worked as a Park Ranger for the Forest Service and the National Park Service in five different states. My long-term goal was to return to work with the National Park Service. In 2022, having four years of tremendous health under my belt, I accepted a job in my dream location: Yosemite National Park, where I spent time working on trails and talking with visitors in the iconic Yosemite Valley as well as in remote areas of the Park’s wilderness. Thanks to my commitment to my mental health, I had managed to regain what I had lost. In time, I was yearning for a more urban landscape. I transferred to Golden Gate National Recreation Area in San Francisco, where I became involved in charitable organizations volunteering addressing issues such as homelessness, food security, and education in the community.

Today, I am furthering my life’s journey back home in Chicago by pursuing a Master’s Degree from DePaul University in History. The decision is monumental not only because of its tremendous undertaking, but because my sister too attended DePaul. In more ways than one, I am walking in my sister’s footsteps. Dedicating the next few years of my life to finishing her work in Chicago. Although I have suffered because of my mental illness, I refuse to allow the events of my past to determine my future. Not only have I been able to regain control of my life, I have been able to push myself beyond the limits of what I thought was once possible. Like so many other people who live with mental illness, I too am another example that making a full recovery is possible.

NAMI Chicago is committed to advocating for and increasing access to evidence-based programs that effectively treat early psychosis. Early intervention is critical – getting help as soon as possible significantly increases the chances of recovery.

The post The Journey Home: Recovery from Bipolar first appeared on NAMI Chicago.

Be An Advocate

At times, we feel like therapists to our clients. We have a great space to hear them out, but at times, we realize we are at a point where we cannot help…BUT YOU MAY. As the person they already trust, you can serve as their advocate. LISTEN – VALIDATE – SHARE.

Empathy: The key to great listening

Empathy is the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experiences of another. (Merriam-Webster)

When a client opens up to you, you have made them feel safe. In peer support, we thank people for sharing and at times, share an experience that may be relatable. As a peer to your client, listening and being empathetic can go a long way.

Recognizing that you may not have the solutions and perhaps the one thing the client needs is simply someone to listen.

But when they are seeking answers, as a “hair therapist” you can be their advocate and provide helpful resources – NAMI Chicago being one of them.

NAMI Chicago’s Helpline is available 7 days a week* at (833) NAMICHI (626-4244) Monday to Friday 9am to 8pm and Saturday & Sunday 9am to 5pm

This free and confidential service provides information, support, and referrals to people seeking help for themselves or someone else. We can help if you need advice on how to best support your client or refer directly to us.

*Closed holidays and for occasional staff in-service.

Below are some helpful ways to guide tough conversations:

Compassionate Responses

• “Thank you for trusting me with this. It means a lot to me.”
• “I would have trouble with coping with that.”
• “It’s okay to be angry. I think I would feel that way too.”
• “I am honored that you shared this with me.”
• “I know a lot of people don’t get it, but I am here to listen.”
• “This is heavy. Thank you for not carrying this alone anymore.”
• “I don’t even know what to say. I am so glad you told me.”
• “I am here to hold space for all your feelings.”
• “I can feel in my own body how heavy this is.”
• “Your feelings are valid.”
• “What I admire most about what you’re doing is ……”
• “This is a difficult situation and I think you have shown a lot of courage and strength in how you are handling things.”
• “Even if I don’t have a solution for your situation, I am here to listen. “

Self-Care

• Exercise – release endorphins to combat and reduce stress, but also maintain good physical health for this demanding job. Avoiding overuse injury that can cause interruption to work.
• Self mental check ins – after a long day taking care of others making sure to check in with yourself.
• Taking advantage of your off days vs just taking days off. Sometimes we do all the things we cannot do while working, during the days we have off. Yet it is very important to take moments to rest.
  • Not all hair professionals have the benefit of vacation time, especially paid time off. However, it can cost you more when you grind nonstop. Both physically and emotionally!
• Manage your schedule—know your limits with how many clients you can take, how many hours and breaks are needed.
• Boundaries—as service providers, we will be in demand, but knowing when to say “NO”, “I CAN’T”, “I’M UNAVAILABLE” etc, will be of great benefit to you.
• Take breaks – step away, put some headphones on, and listen to some relaxing music, a podcast, or an audiobook. Also, grabbing some lotion and massaging your palms can not only feel good after cutting hair but also distract you a bit.

As we have shared, we hold a great space where clients like to share, but also please remember that there may be times you may not have the emotional space to listen. It’s best to thank your client for sharing, validate their share, and sincerely say, “I’m sorry, I wish I had my own emotional space to fully listen. At the moment, I just cannot, as you fully deserve me to.” This is where having credible resources comes in handy. Remember the NAMI helpline is a number anyone can call to be guided into the appropriate resource or have someone listen to you. Even though it is not a direct crisis line, they can support during one. Also, if having a conversation seems too heavy, it’s ok, to kindly switch gears. This is where having the NAMI help card visible is a great idea. A client can either take it, take a picture of it, save the number, with no one saying anything about it.

Most importantly…

TAKE CARE OF YOU. WE CAN NOT POUR FROM AN EMPTY CUP. IT IS OK TO TAKE BREAKS AND ESPECIALLY OK TO TALK TO SOMEONE. WE CANNOT HOLD TO MUCH IN OR WE WILL EXPLODE.

“As someone who was behind the chair for many years, I gave a lot of my time to my craft and my clients. Often overlooking my own needs. I recall, I was going through a rough time, when I first started cutting hair. I held a job at a salon full-time and a part-time job at a clothing store. Why? I was avoiding other situations. Things that gave me conflict or I just did not want to address. Let me tell you, it wore on me, BAD! Then having clients come in and dump more on me, whether it was their personal problems or wanting more time from me. It was heavy, I cracked and I said, NO MORE! I have no shame taking care of myself and seeking professional guidance to help me address things I didn’t understand in my own life. GAME CHANGER! Through the years, I learned to navigate my life better and in turn become a better hair professional. Now, I want to share the wealth. Let’s be better for ourselves and kick it up a notch and be the best hair professionals to our clients in so many ways.

I now use my vulnerability to reach out for help, talk it out, share with my peers as my SUPERPOWER. As I always say in our NAMI support groups, ‘My mental health diagnosis, is life. Its happens and I need to talk about it.’ When we talk and unload, we create space for bigger, more important things. Life is too short not to!!! Be the best version of yourself, for you and for those around you.”

—Brenda *Lady B* Lic. Cos & Lic. Barber/Peer Recovery Support Specialist and Certified Wellness Recovery and Action Plan Facilitator (WRAP) with NAMI Chicago.

The post Mental Health Behind the Chair first appeared on NAMI Chicago.

Guest Blogger Eric Dorsa from Love Your Tree shared their journey to discover their inner beauty with NAMI Chicago this year.

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In my journey as a Mental Health Advocate, I have come to believe that no one condition, feeling, emotion, circumstance, treatment, or sense of healing lives in its own bucket. Everything is connected and all of it is necessary for healing. You don’t have to be in recovery from an Eating Disorder, like me, to struggle with body acceptance.

In my eating disorder, I viewed my body as dangerous. As a queer person, I felt like it was my body that moved through the world in a societally unacceptable and feminine way. It was my body that was attracted to boys instead of girls. It was my body that wasn’t athletic. It was my body that was being teased and made fun of. I learned to blame my body for all the negatives in my life.

What I experienced as a young queer person was very real, and I had nobody to talk to about the messages I was receiving from others that I was wrong or incorrect because I was queer.

In my many conversations with people who haven’t experienced an eating disorder we tend to  agree that it is hard to love your body, and to derive your worth  from more than what you look like. Body image isn’t just about the size, shape, and the other physical features associated with a body. Body image is also how you see yourself in your relationships; how you see yourself in your life;  and how you see yourself in your work and your future. Body image is integrally linked to self-image. 

My brain is also a part of my body. How I view my mind is just as important to my sense of self as how I view  my body. It has taken me years (11 to be exact) to realize that my mental wellness is directly tied to how I see myself. We live in an image driven culture that thrives off of each of us not believing that we are enough. Even the mental health world is sometimes driven by the narrative that you cannot be ok unless you can afford this treatment, or that therapist.

I have learned to redefine what is considered beautiful for me. Finding a community of people who are also seeking healing has shown me that we, as humans, have way more experiences in common than experiences that set us apart. This knowledge has helped me to see myself and my worth as unconditional. My community has shown me that my identity is worth celebrating. I have also learned that my mind and my struggles are the most valuable tool that I have in navigating a world that is full of stigma and beauty that is only skin deep. I don’t always feel great about myself or my mental health, and that’s been true for a long time. But what is different now is that when I feel the shame starting to swirl around me, I tell on it and I speak to it. I talk to myself the way I would talk to a friend. Today, I know that who I am is much more important than what I look like or what my life looks like to others. Who I am inside is what I chose to feed today. 

—

Love Your Tree is an arts-based program for people of all ages focused on cultivating self-compassion, body acceptance and positive mental well-being through creativity, community connection, and self-reflection.

The post Finding Your Inner Beauty first appeared on NAMI Chicago.

Guest blogger Eric Cowgill joins us to tackle this confusion. We asked him one simple question: “What does recovery mean to you?”

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Recovery: I’m not a big fan of the word.

It sounds like a word doctors with bow ties come up with in a lab and then slap themselves on the back for twenty minutes, nodding their heads, with their pipes piping.

It’s even in the title of my job:  “Recovery Support Provider”.

I don’t think anyone really knows what to call the thing it describes.

I do.

It’s my groovy. When I’m groovy, I’m taking the weird, the terrible and the delicious of the world and I can even it all out. Like a pizza. Rolling out the crust, flipping it high, laying on the sauce. My days are groovy pizzas.

The word “recovery”, instead, sounds like something made up for billing purposes. It’s the many great people who try their best to heal us and make us whole, trying to bring the mists of our minds into some concrete focus. So they borrowed a term from our brothers and sisters in Alcoholics Anonymous a half-century ago. Isn’t recovery awesome?*

Mr. Google will tell you that “recovery” means you have “returned to a normal state”. But my medical condition, my infinitely creative brain does not recognize or try to attain a “normal state” anymore. It’s exhausting.

Instead I learn, and I try for balance. I like a balanced groovy pizza; sometimes just pepperoni and mushroom. Other days: pan crust is the only thing that will satisfy.

My therapist had me look at one of those Chinese Go game boards with dozens of black and white pieces. She said: “Think of life and your emotions and events as if there are good pieces and bad pieces. They are equal in size and they coexist and shift and change all the time.” I remember saying, “Uh huh. What about pizza?”

The point is, I just call it my Groovy. I wrote a song that I perform sometimes in presentations called “I’m Groovycheckin.” I regularly check in and leave voicemail messages with my psychologist, who has seen me through four long years of Ever Growing Grooviness. “This is Eric and I wanna lay this Groovycheck on ya…”

Sometimes they are funny, other times they are totally not. White and black pieces, you know. But that’s how my Groovy goes.

At NAMI Chicago I support a lot of buddies who are also working on their groovy. I asked a few of them if they could fill me in on what “recovery” means. Through the years the people who I see have the most success in maintaining a consistent level of groovy are the ones that take action. You know, they DO things! Get outside their brains. They don’t simply think about it, hash it over, polish the little dreams to a perfect ending (I am especially good at fantasizing my future!). They seem to just be able to walk out their doors and risk it.

So, for the last word, here’s what some of these guys said recovery means to them:

“Coming from a worse place to a better place.” – Dave

“Being a part of society. I got shot and almost died! What could be worse than that!?” – Edgar

“It’s responsibility, man! (Doing) things that you’re supposed to be doing and having fun! Making up for lost fun!” – Donald

Signing off,

Your Groovy Support Provider, Eric

* It is awesome, in the sense that whisky doesn’t make all my decisions anymore. I’ve been in recovery for ten years. Please, no clapping.

The post Recovery: I’m Not a Big Fan of the Word first appeared on NAMI Chicago.

Follow along as we walk through history!

1990: Signing of the Americans with Disabilities Act

A major landmark in disability rights, the ADA made it illegal for employers, businesses, and government entities to discriminate against people with disabilities. “Disabilities” include mental health conditions such as major depression, bipolar disorder, anxiety disorders, schizophrenia and personality disorders.

Thanks to the ADA, employers were now required to provide “reasonable accommodations” for people with disabilities to create equitable access, and could not treat people with disabilities differently than those without. These actions were important precedents, but not always enforced or implemented. As the years passed, more legal action was needed to fill gaps in disability rights that the ADA did not cover.

1996: Mental Health Parity Act

The Mental Health Parity Act began a requirement that health insurance plans provide more equitable coverage for mental health and substance use services, compared to treatment for other health conditions. It used to be common for health care plans to have very minimal mental health coverage.

However, our experiences tell us that this disparity still exists for many people. That’s why parity continues to be a major advocacy goal for NAMI Chicago and other leaders, and further laws have been enacted around this issue, such as:

• the 2008 Mental Health Parity and Addiction Equity Act, and

• the 2010 Affordable Care Act (ACA), which determined mental health care to be one of 10 essential health benefits that plans must offer, advances access and parity

1999: Olmstead vs. L.C.

This case determined that segregating people with mental and physical disabilities into institutions for treatment was a violation of the ADA. People with mental health and other conditions deserve to be integrated into the community as much as possible. This was followed by many state-level lawsuits and laws, including the Williams and Colbert Consent Decrees in Illinois, for which NAMI Chicago continues to work actively on implementation.

2008: The Americans with Disabilities Amendments Act (ADAAA)

Previously, courts took a narrow definition of what qualified as a disability under the ADA. For example, if a person’s medications reduced the way their illness affected daily life, those life improvements might mean they were denied protection under the ADA. The ADAAA made eligibility for protection much broader, reducing these access barriers for people with mental health conditions.

And beyond!

The signing of the ADA started some major strides forward to prevent discrimination against people with disabilities, including those with mental health conditions. There’s much more work to be done, but today is a day to celebrate our country’s 31 years of strides forward to create equity and inclusion for everyone, including those with mental health conditions.

The post 31 Years of the Americans with Disabilities Act first appeared on NAMI Chicago.

March is Women’s History Month. NAMI Chicago celebrates the many women who make our work possible, and also recognizes that many groups are often excluded or forgotten in women’s movements, including racial and ethnic minorities, members of the queer and trans communities, and women living with disabilities.

That’s why for our Women’s History Month blog, we are celebrating a sampling of the remarkable women throughout history whose stories are rarely told. Join us as we highlight 6 women from underrepresented identity groups who gave their lives, bodies and lived experiences to create the foundations of mental wellness, like the ability to live free from fear and oppression, and express their true identities.

Their stories span centuries and rarely fit the linear definitions of mental health work, but their work on healing, identity representation, rights for marginalized communities, and health equity have made it possible for future generations to work toward what we now consider wellness. Keep reading to learn more.

1. Tan Yunxian (c. 1461 – c. 1554):

Physician during the Ming Dynasty in China. Tan Yunxian was one of the first doctors to take women’s health issues seriously, specializing in gynecology, pediatrics and obstetrics, and often treating women whose symptoms came from stress and overwork. She rebelled against the norms of the time by leading her own practice and publishing a book, “Sayings of a Female Doctor”.

2. Zitkala-Ša (1876-1938):

Lakota Musician and Author. She wrote several works chronicling her struggles with cultural identity and the pull between the majority culture she was educated within and her Dakota culture into which she was born and raised. Her work on the topics of the intersections of gender and identity, and candid sharing of her personal story, lay the groundwork for consideration of intersectionality in mental health frameworks.

3. Luisa Capetillo (1879-1922):

A Puerto Rican feminist, Luisa was a strong advocate for the rights of women to have representation, live free of oppression and express non-traditional gender identities. She fought for the foundations of workplace wellness – the rights of laborers to have a safe workplace, living wages and fair hours – and continued writing and advocating even after being thrown in jail for her beliefs.

4. Margaret Charles Smith (1906-2004):

One of the old-school “granny midwives”, who worked primarily in rural areas of the South with Black women who were often in poor health. Through a holistic approach that included considering women’s mental health pre- and post- partum, she lost very few of the more than 3000 babies she delivered, and none of the mothers in childbirth.

5. Marsha P. Johnson (1945-1992):

An outspoken advocate for gay rights, Johnson was one of the prominent figures in the Stonewall uprising of 1969, founding member of the Gay Liberation Front and co-founded the radical activist group Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (STAR). It would not be possible to do mental health work within the trans community if individuals like Marsha had not first fought for their experience to be legitimized, seen and valued.

6. Kimberlé Williams Crenshaw (1959-present):

Critical race theorist who developed the theory of intersectionality. Kimberlé’s work is the foundation for understanding of how race, gender and other overlapping identities play into a person’s experiences, which has been critical for creating space for women of color in mental wellness work, as well as understanding inequality, discrimination and stigma.

Know more remarkable women in history who helped create the field of mental wellness? Comment on our social media posts or send us an email to info@namichicago.org!

The post Remarkable Women Whose Stories are Rarely Told first appeared on NAMI Chicago.

Friends:

You. Thank you. I honor you. I am deeply grateful for your strength and love. Can we celebrate together? This is my hope for today and for this year.

Today, tomorrow and the next I will celebrate the joy of change, the discomfort of growth, and the brilliance of what I now know is the definition of love: showing up for someone else, seeing their truth, when our own hearts are broken in pieces. I give myself permission to celebrate this year, this life, because of the commitment I have seen in this beautiful NAMI community and for my deep gratitude that we have loved this way.

Most of us have spent our life avoiding pain. We numb, we hate, we disconnect, we overcommit, we blame, we shame, we compartmentalize. We are very good at managing. Managing is a tool, but it does not build resilience. And resilience is what I celebrate in all of you, today and every day.

This year has been horrific, with loss unimaginable. 2020 was not an equalizer. It was inequality and injustice staring us in the face, and those who had turned a blind eye to centuries of injustice, should no longer, could no longer. While I watch people looking to 2021 with hopes that tomorrow will return us to where we were before, count me out on going backwards. I celebrate our stark awakenings.

At NAMI Chicago, our lens has changed. Our hearts are forever different, and we use that to build wellness and resilience from the inside out. We do not have the luxury not to. It is our duty to you, it is our privilege and responsibility to create a space of wellness so we can show up. I hope I never go back to managing.

Resilience has been at the center for many, this year, to brace ourselves from the trauma we’ve experienced at rates we couldn’t have imagined. That in itself is trauma: the death of expectation, the disappointment and surprise of dramatic change, the unsteady nature of this world.

I thought for years that resilience was the calluses we develop, the armor we wear, the ability to hold a meeting while holding back tears or wanting to scream, to soldier on. But resilience is not avoiding or distraction. It’s not passive or transactional. It is the quiet behind the disruptive noise. It requires speaking our truth and looking pain in the face, knowing that adversity is everywhere and suffering exists in our souls at levels unimaginable. And to build resilience is to actively participate in choosing where our attention is paid.

Can we pause there? Can I ask where your attention is paid? Where do you spend your beautiful and limited energy these days? When we are pulled into filling the emptiness with toxic thoughts or relationships or behaviors that just make us feel emptier, we get stuck in a stress response that weakens us. It blocks our ability to connect, grow and practice gratitude.

Building resilience is shedding what doesn’t serve us, acknowledging how uncomfortable that is, leaning in and asking for what we need from those we love, and leaving the rest. Resilience is not a luxury. It is a tool, a practice, a necessity if we truly believe in humanity and healing together.

Resilience is growing forward in response to pain. If we do not, if we stay stuck, we sleepwalk through our lives and exist in chaos. In chaos, authentic connection isn’t possible and we have no room to see or hear others. We need more connection, and less chaos.

Building resilience is a choice. It is finding gratitude when it feels unjust. There are days when we wake up and only feel struggle. We go to bed not believing hope is holding our hand on this journey. When gratitude feels out of reach, reflect on this: it starts with you. Have you thanked yourself today? Yesterday, the last 364 days? For showing up, for being raw, for giving others moments of kindness and compassion? Have you loved yourself enough to forgive yourself when that wasn’t the case?

Knowing that there is deep pain and grief, loss and natural disasters ripping our world apart, I choose today and tomorrow to find joy and celebration. You have permission to choose that, too. To accept what you cannot control, and step up for what you can, and should, change.

We do not have the luxury of walking into 2021, 2022, Saturday, Tuesday, Friday, without putting ourselves first, thanking ourselves, and actively working to build resilience in ourselves. Our kids are watching, our staff is reading the room, there are people around us who are unseen.

To the painful, strict, intolerant, honest, 2020: thank you. You have been a teacher.

We celebrate you, our beloved community. And we want you to feel it everyday. Reach out and we will reach back. Always. We don’t have the luxury not to.

With an inspired heart and deep gratitude,

Alexa James
CEO, NAMI Chicago

The post Celebrate You first appeared on NAMI Chicago.

My multigenerational Puerto Rican family called me the “shy one”. I shied away from the camera, from events, meeting people, and public speaking. There were a lot of emotions and thoughts behind it. Fear. Anxiety. But I didn’t have words to describe any of it, and no one in my family spoke about mental health. Even if I had tried to have that conversation, I assumed they wouldn’t understand.

I learned about mental health for the first time when I studied psychology in college at the University of Michigan. I began to understand my own intensifying emotions and behaviors, and was able to start addressing them.

I also found myself talking more and more with other BIPOC peers about mental health issues. Everyone’s families avoided the topic, and it was seen as normal to be silent about it. But I wanted that dynamic to change. It needed to.

I got excited about the idea, and how I could start that change in my own family. But home during breaks, the feeling was not always mutual. I wanted to share my experiences and knowledge, but some relatives were not very accepting. I started hearing things like:

“Mental health isn’t real.”

“Try to not think about it.”

“Amanda, those thoughts are evil.”

“Why do you need to talk to a therapist if you can talk to family for free?”

That last one bugged me the most, especially since I had just chosen a career path in nothing other than – Clinical Psychology.

So I got my degree and decided to be part of changing the narrative. I began working and volunteering throughout Chicago, facilitating mental health discussions with youth and offering support for people struggling with both physical and mental health. I spent time and personal conversations with my own family, sharing and listening.

I learned it’s often easier to have these conversations with younger generations, in my work in the field, than it is at home. But I have seen some change in my own family. Some relatives now express their emotions, read self-help books, and even seek therapy. Others are still clinging to the stigma.

There is a lot more work to be done. As I continue to study and learn, I want to keep advocating for mental health care in BIPOC communities that don’t have it. I want to create spaces for youth to have dialogues about mental health, and to give them opportunities to talk about it in the classroom—something I didn’t have. And I want families to normalize having, and talking about, their emotions. Families from every background, including mine.

The post Guest Blog: My family, my journey and #BIPOCMentalHealthMonth first appeared on NAMI Chicago.

We at NAMI Chicago see you. NAMI is tasked with the privilege of advocating for a real conversation about healing, but that is impossible without dealing with the insidious effect of injustice, powerlessness, and alienation.

George Floyd’s killing and the countless that preceded it are the stark reality that many of us have the luxury to avoid while black and brown communities are terrorized, traumatized, and torn from their loved ones.

We are witnesses to this horror. We know that we can’t talk about effective healing if we are avoiding core issues. Systemic racism is a poison and the reality. We will fail to heal the city, promote mental wellness, and heal trauma until we address this injustice.

We have seen resilience, and it is the city’s strength. We are encouraged by those leading through trauma. We at NAMI Chicago are inspired and humbled by the passion to create a better future for this great city and stand as allies for all who are committed to that goal.

We are here to support you. We are listening.

As always, if you need help, please call us at 833-626-4244 from Monday through Friday 9 AM-8 PM, and Saturday & Sunday 9 AM-5 PM

The post We stand as allies – May 31, 2020 first appeared on NAMI Chicago.