PLEASE INCLUDE SMI IN YOUR PLATFORM by Dede Ranahan


Hi Mental Health for US

Just discovered you and your platform asking 2020 political candidates to talk about mental health in their campaigns. I see no specific mention of serious mental illnesses (SMI) such as schizophrenia, schizo-affective disorder, bipolar disorder, etc. Some people are not able to recover from SMI and languish in prison, in solitary, in not-so-good care homes or in their parents’ back bedroom for years and years.

I belong to a dozen Facebook groups of families of the SMI. Their stories are horrific and from across the nation. They’re not able to find help anywhere.

I want to support your efforts. I’ve been sending letters to candidates and calling on Facebook and on my blog for 2020 candidates to step up, speak about, and put forth national plans for SMI that do the following: Reform HIPAA, repeal the IMD exclusion, do brain research into these insidious brain diseases, provide for long-term care and short-term outpatient services, improve access, provide housing, supported education, and family supports. Not simply mental health. Not simply drug and alcohol addiction. Serious mental illness.

Would Mental Health for US be willing to expand its platform to include SMI - specifically spelling it out, not simply lumping it into mental health?

I hope your answer is yes.

You can read stories about SMI individuals and families — across the US - that I’ve been posting for 31/2 years on my website and blog. You can also read my own story in my book about my and my son’s struggles for over 25 years to get help for his SMI. He died in 2014 on a hospital psych ward. He was transferred, without my knowledge, out of county (lack of beds), his records weren’t forwarded with him, and I couldn’t get doctors to talk to me (HIPAA) even though I was on my son’s Advance Care Directive.

I unwittingly captured the last year of Pat's life in my book which, among other things, includes his story and many stories of individuals and families being failed by the system.

I will sign on and volunteer to help you once I’m satisfied that this undertaking includes SMI and specifically mentions it in your platform.

Thank you. I look forward to hearing from you.
Dede Ranahan

www.soonerthantomorrow.com
A Safe Place to Talk About Mental Illness in Our Families

Sooner Than Tomorrow — A Mother’s Diary About Mental Illness, Family, and Everyday Life
By Dede Ranahan with Patrick Ranahan
http://www.bit.ly/soonerthantomorrow

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https://www.mentalhealthforus.net Please read this platform and send a message asking that it include SMI. Thanks.

http://www.bit.ly/soonerthantomorrow

TRAVIS & ME - OUR JUNE PRISON VISIT by Dede Ranahan

On Sunday, I visited Travis. I didn’t see him in May because our visiting day fell on Mother’s Day which I spent with family. He walked into the visiting area and, at first, I didn’t recognize him. His hair’s been shaved short — for summer — and he’s growing a beard. He looked great. I told him, “I really like your haircut. And your beard.”

We hugged and Travis said, “I finished reading your book.” (His mother, Kathy, sent him a copy.) Then he said the most perfect thing, “I love Pat. I love all his Facebook posts. He’s so funny. And smart. I think he’ll be an influencer for our generation. I copied the list of his favorite books. I’m going to read all of them.”

Travis’s eyes filled with tears as he spoke. My eyes filled with tears as I listened. Travis was clearly moved. “I totally get him,” he said. “I like him so much.” More tears.

I’m getting such heart-felt reactions to Sooner Than Tomorrow. In reviews, in emails, in cards and letters. Many have commented about Pat and his sense of humor. But, hearing about him from Travis, in person, with tears in his eyes, was mind-blowing for me.

I reached for his hand. “Thank you,” I said.

“I wasn’t sure what to expect when I began reading your book. And then I couldn’t put it down. You’re such a good writer.”

Travis is reading other books, too. He’s taking a college health class during the summer. “It’s really interesting. I’ve read the first three chapters. It’s about physical health, mental health, emotional health — about keeping everything in balance. I’m ready for these college classes. I wasn’t ready for them before I was sent to prison. My self-esteem is much better now. I know I can study and learn.”

Travis was also pumped about a basketball tournament he took part in on Saturday. His team (“We were the ‘crazy’ team. All of us have psych issues.”) beat five other “normal” teams. “We were champions for the day. We never played together before and we just clicked. Sports are important to me. I ran 10 miles (around the prison yard) for the soldiers who died on D-Day. To honor them. I’m in the best shape of my life.”

I asked Travis if there had been any more discussion about transferring him to a prison closer to his family in Southern California. He said, “They’re not going to move me right now. My psychiatrist and my psychologist are going to take me off lithium. It’s affecting my thyroid. Then I won’t be taking any medications. They want to watch me and see how I react. We’re all hoping I can function okay without meds.”

Travis likes his medical team. He thinks they’re competent. He thinks they care about him. “They like me,” he said. “I tell them about my feelings and my emotions. Not every client is open with them and they appreciate that I am.”

“I’m growing,” Travis continued. “I’m making the most out of my time in prison. I’m working out. I’m reading. I’m writing songs for our church service. I’m a better person than I was.”

“Travis, it sounds like you’re focusing on the positive aspects of being here. Do you think other inmates do that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to judge anyone else. Probably not everyone does. There are fights and other bad stuff happens. Being here is forcing me to know how to interact with others. It’s not always easy living with my cellie, but I’m learning about relationships. I was kind of a recluse before I came here. I managed a motel in the mountains and I spent a lot of time by myself.”

It feels like our conversations are evolving. Travis asked me questions, too. “How are you doing, Dede?” (good) “How’s your mom?” (good) “How’s The Jazz?” (good) “What books are you reading?” (Mama’s Last Hug by Frans De Waal, I Miss You When I Blink by Mary Laura Philpott, Another Rubber Chicken Dinner by Bev Chinello)

Visiting hours ended. It was time to leave. “Have a good month, Travis. I’ll see you in July.”

I always turn to wave at Travis as I walk away. He’s always waiting. And he waves back.

Travis & me - before his haircut.

Travis & me - before his haircut.

http://www.bit.ly/soonerthantomorrow