::: ABOUT - The A-Major Mental Health Society :::



A-MAJOR MENTAL HEALTH ADVOCACY GROUP C/O Mark Henick 2C-920 Forest Hill Rd Fredericton, NB E3B 9T6 506.292.5949 Email Us! Do you want to help the A-Major Mental Health Society? Contact us! Website provided by: Cheryl Smith OutFront Productions	A certain kind of darkness Millions of young Canadians are at risk of developing depression and many will commit suicide, yet the health-care community, media and the public fail or refuse to understand mental illness BY MARK HENICK, FREELANCE JANUARY 31, 2010 (Originally published in the Ottawa Citizen, this article also appeared in the Montreal Gazette, the Windsor Star, the Regina Leader-Post, the Edmonton Journal, GlobalTV.com, Canada.com, Kidsmentalhealth.ca, the Wall Street Journal Professional Edition and the Canwest News Service) I was in the eighth grade when I first tried to kill myself. I didn't know then that I had a mental illness. How could I? I was still riding the school bus in the morning, equipped with my book bag slung over one shoulder and a lunch packed by my mother in hand. It's the type of thing that just kind of creeps up on you, depression is. There are 3.2 million young people in Canada who are thought to be at risk for developing depression. Yet it still takes you by surprise. I had no idea that I was about to embark upon 10 of the most challenging years of my life. It would be a rollercoaster ride of hospital stays, medications, therapists, and conflict. It was hell on Earth. And I wouldn't change a single thing. One of my most vivid memories has been all but repressed. A small window is all that remains, but then again it is all that I need. It was almost winter, November maybe, at around midnight. From the clear sky the silver moon cast shadows over the abandoned remains of my once prosperous town. The smoke stacks, long gone now I think, then towered like sleeping sentinels in the distance. I can still remember the feeling of the cold steel under my small, outstretched arms. As I stood on that overpass, and looked down from the wrong side of the railing, my thoughts were as clear as the sky. I wasn't thinking about poor little me and how I just wanted more attention. That's not how suicide works. I was thinking about my family. I was thinking about how I could save them from the years of trouble and embarrassment that would surely follow me. I mean, anyone who watches television or reads the papers knows that I was supposed to grow up to be a degenerate, a dangerous criminal who never makes anything of himself. I was doing them a favour, I thought. This is how many young people in Canada think, many with nobody telling them the difference. Suicide is among the leading causes of death in 15-24 year olds, and Canada has the third-highest youth suicide rate in the industrialized world. My heels balanced precariously on the concrete edge, my toes on nothing. A fence cut diagonally across the worn out ground below. Forty, maybe 50 feet down. I estimated how far out I needed to jump so I didn't land on the fence. I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath in. As I exhaled my arms seemed to rise by themselves from the steel railing, now made warm by my skin. As I pitched forward, I could feel the wind blow through my hair and around my small frame. As I started to fall, I suddenly felt an arm wrap around my chest from behind. A stranger, a man I never saw again, pulled me backward over the railing. They said later that my body was completely limp, entirely submissive to whatever was to happen next. Sometimes I look back and think that a piece of me did die on that bridge that night. My innocence, perhaps. My illusions, maybe. But I don't regret this, or any of my self-determined brushes with oblivion. They have provided me with a very important lesson about myself, and about people like me. That is, "the mentally ill." I see now that I never really wanted to kill myself, despite my repeated attempts. I do not believe that anybody does. I didn't know this at the time, and I probably would have resisted the very suggestion anyway. But it is usually too risqué even to talk about suicide. One of the most devastating silent tragedies in Canada today is that this is the case for more than 3,000 people who kill themselves annually in this country. One of two arguments invariably comes up: Let them do it if they want to, or if they don't really want to then don't take them seriously. Both of these opinions are views that have been holding mental-health-care reform back. Sometimes people will end their lives because they cannot find their worth, they don't want to be a burden, or they just want the pain to go away. But, you can choose to tell them that they don't have to, that they are valued, and that things can get better. It isn't easy, but it's not supposed to be. When we distance ourselves from people with mental illnesses we are falsely denying the fact that "they" can just as easily be us. Mental illness spans ages, races, cultures, genders, genes, and tax brackets. Nobody is immune. When we pretend that we are, we shut out those who have succumbed to a purported mental weakness, a problem of living. "That will never be me," we say. "I am normal." When people recognize, however, that there is very little that separates them from the one in five Canadians who will experience a mental illness, that's when true reform and true recovery can occur. Last November, the Mental Health Commission of Canada released its framework for a national mental health strategy. In the 24 years that it took for the recommendation to establish this strategy to move from Senate committee to government action, approximately 70,000 Canadians died by suicide. What's more, countless people suffered with illnesses that we have the capacity and tools to effectively manage, if only we were to stop pretending that mental illness is something that it is not, something distant and foreign from us. Primarily because of the stigma we place on mental illness, only one in five actually receive the treatment they need. But, for those who do get treatment, approximately 80 per cent are able to get back to their regular activities. The media have a great responsibility for how mental illness is perceived, being able to influence public opinion and thereby influencing public policy. Recently a mentally ill woman in Montreal was shot after attacking police. Had that woman been diagnosed with diabetes, I wonder if the headline would have read "Diabetic woman shot dead." The issue with this kind of reporting is that "the mentally ill" are reduced to a black and white caricature of violence and criminality. This is the very caricature that people come to associate with the real people who are suffering with real mental illnesses, and only serves to deepen the separation and promote the stigma. Then the real people begin to see themselves that way, as I did, and the problems get worse. In order to break the stranglehold that mental illness has on Canadian society, it is imperative that we all realize our own complicity. Mental health is everyone's business, so we all must take an active role in destigmatizing mental illness. Mark Henick is a graduating student at St. Thomas University in Fredericton, where he is the president of the students' union. He is also president of the Canadian Mental Health Association (N.B. Division), the youngest provincial division president in Canada. This commentary has been adapted from his lecture A Certain Kind of Darkness, delivered at St. Thomas University last November. © Copyright (c) The Montreal Gazette The media must stop ignoring suicide BY MARK HENICK, SPECIAL TO THE OTTAWA CITIZEN SEPTEMBER 4, 2009 (Originally published in the Ottawa Citizen, this article also appeared in the Windsor Star, the Edmonton Journal, the Montreal Gazette, Kidsmentalhealth.ca, Canada.com, and the Schizophrenia Society of Nova Scotia website) On the evening of Tuesday, Aug. 25, a well known former Fredericton city councillor walked into the Emergency Room with a lot on his mind. It is not known if he told them he was going to take his own life. Whatever happened in the ER, one thing was certain: he did not get rushed past the queue for immediate psychiatric care. Instead he ended up leaving, just walking right out the door. He called the police from in front of the hospital and, with phone in one hand and 16-gauge shotgun in the other, told them that he intended to kill himself. When the lone officer arrived on site — it was perhaps assumed by the dispatcher to be just another “jumper” call — the man placed the barrel of the shotgun to his head and pulled the trigger. The next day the local paper’s front-page headline read, “Ancient craft kept alive,” accompanied by a picture and illuminating article on birchbark canoe making. It wasn’t until page A3 that one could find an article about an officer who witnessed a suicide. The victim was secondary — merely the setting. A CBC report later that day stated that “Fredericton police and CBC News normally do not report on suicides. …” They made an exception in this case because the man was well known. The local paper the following day carried a front-page story about the people who mourned the loss of the victim. It also contained the disclaimer that the paper didn’t “usually report on suicides or identify the victims,” apparently for the same reason. What both of these accounts seemed to miss are the most important questions. Why was there only one officer there? Did the victim talk to anyone in the ER? If he did, why was he not treated immediately? And the most important question of all: Why did his illness get this far without intervention? These are all questions I will be waiting for answers to, but I have the feeling it will be a long wait. According to the World Health Organization, there are approximately 121 million people worldwide who live with depression, and 850,000 who die by suicide each year. Yet, sadly, less than 25 per cent of those affected have access to effective treatment. By 2020 depression is projected to be the second leading cause of disability for both sexes across all ages worldwide. Here in Canada, 96 per cent of physicians already recognize depression as one of the three leading causes of disability in this country, according to a new national survey. He called the police from in front of the hospital and, with phone in one hand and 16-gauge shotgun in the other, told them that he intended to kill himself. People with mental illnesses used to be warehoused in asylums until the community treatment wave of the 1970s and onward. Institutions were closed en masse, but one important element slipped through the cracks: the part about community treatment. Former senator Michael Kirby, who left the Senate to chair the newly minted Mental Health Commission of Canada, was recently quoted in the Calgary Herald as saying “I’m embarrassed to say this as a Canadian, but we have really made the streets and the prisons the asylums of the 21st century.” But even if adequate treatment were available, the stigma that we place on mental illness is powerful enough in itself to prevent people from seeking it. Though they are some of the oldest and most common disorders, mental illnesses continue to be treated as secrets, as though talking about how we are feeling somehow makes us weaker. In the case of suicide, many believe that talking about it encourages it. Even some organizations push this erroneous belief. The media will freely report on homicides, arsons, rapes and pedophilia, without any apparent concern as to whether or not it will encourage people to commit these acts or, as it is so often put, to “give them the idea to go out and do it.” Talking about suicide does not encourage suicide, especially not if you are reporting it responsibly. The exception to the media ban on suicide reporting as stated in the above mentioned reports is deeply offensive to anyone who has themselves or has had family members who contemplated or attempted suicide. Or who have completed suicide. Saying that they are willing to break their own (archaic) norm to report on this particular suicide because the victim was so well known means one morbid, irresponsible thing: Nobody else who dies by suicide is “important” enough to report on. If this man shot the officer, there is little doubt it would have been big news. If he shot a passing vehicle, it would have been splashed over the front page. If he fired aimlessly into the sky, he surely would have made headlines. If it was a standoff and he didn’t shoot anything, even that would have received more attention. But none of this happened. He shot himself. Therefore it was too taboo for even the news. Except that his name was well known, and that sells papers. More Canadians die by suicide than in car accidents. This is a reality of the world we live in. To avoid talking about it only perpetuates the stigma around mental illness. If someone caught the flu and died on the steps of the hospital without being treated there would be an uprising, a revolution. We are facing a mental illness epidemic in this country, one that we can’t afford to ignore any longer. Of all the unpreventable problems in the world, this is not one of them. We have the tools; there are plenty of effective treatments out there if those in power, politically and otherwise, choose to put the attention and resources behind making them widely available. More than anything I’ve ever begged for in my life, please. Somebody do something. Mark Henick is a student at St. Thomas University in Fredericton. He is president of the Students' Union and is the youngest member of the board of directors for the Canadian Mental Health Association, N.B., division. He uses his experience with depression to advocate mental health awareness through public lectures and the media. © Copyright (c) The Ottawa Citizen Act on mental health report BY MARK HENICK, COMMENTARY MARCH 30, 2009 There was an air of hope, a feeling that there would finally be some long overdue progress made when, in May 2008, the government of New Brunswick announced a review of mental health care in the province. Penned by Justice Michael McKee after nine months of in-depth consultation, the final report was released in February 2009 and contained 80 recommendations for improving the system. Health Minister Michael Murphy promised shortly after the release that it wouldn't take long for the government to decide how it planned to move forward, according to news reports. Now, three months later, the hope has dimmed and the feeling of progress has returned to one of quiet desperation. Minister Murphy's promise now seems to be but an echo in the halls of the New Brunswick legislature. The irony of waiting for the government to respond to Judge McKee's report, optimistically entitled "Together into the future," is that it reflects the very crisis of our mental health care system provincially, and indeed, nationally. We're always waiting. Mental health is always on the back burner. In a May 6 report by the Canadian Press, a spokeswoman for the Department of Health said that a formal response to McKee's report is now being prepared and will be released within the next two months. While this eventual response is welcome, for many it will no doubt ring with notes of political obligation rather than consideration. That is, of course, assuming that nothing more important comes up to shelve this report even longer. What they fail to recognize is that addressing mental health is important, and not only to individual success and a strong society, but also to an effective workforce and recovering economy. This is especially true considering that, according to the Mood Disorders Society of Canada, the fastest growing cost sector for occupational disability in the country is psychiatric disorders. Two-thirds of these costs are footed by businesses through lost productivity, disability and group insurance premiums. According to an IMS Health Canada survey in 2007, psychotherapeutics are the third highest prescribed drug class across the entire Canadian population, behind cardiovascular and cholesterol agents. With the baby boomers maturing, and the Canadian population subsequently aging along with them, this is not entirely surprising. This is an issue that also affects our emerging workforce. In looking at insurance data for about 10,000 university students across Canada, antidepressant agents are ranked as the second most dispensed drug classification, average about $49.81 per script, and account for 14.13 per cent per cent of all claims for that age group. These are barely edged out by oral contraceptives at 14.81 per cent, with acne medication coming in a distant third at 4.07 per cent of total claims. Without being told otherwise, we are left to assume that the government simply does not prioritize the mental health of New Brunswickers as highly as it does nuclear power or moose fencing. According to the Canadian Mental Health Association, approximately one in five people will experience a mental illness at some point in their life. Tragically, we lose about 3,000 Canadians every year to suicide. Yet, we continue to wait. But this is not only a provincial problem. In any given year, about 10.4 per cent of Canadians have a mental illness. For comparison's sake, consider the 4.8 per cent of Canadians who have diabetes in any given year. In 2005, 30 per cent of a $300 million one-time federal health promotion investment was dedicated to diabetes. Only 1.5 per cent was dedicated to mental illness. If the government of New Brunswick is going to use silence to communicate that the issues of a large and growing sector of the population are not important, ministers must think that there is no easier sector to push over than persons with mental illnesses. It is, after all, not much of a challenge to defeat the defeated. They apparently underestimate the resilience and power of the spirit of the downtrodden. It took 24 years for the recommendation to establish a national mental health strategy to move from Senate committee to government action in Canada. In that time approximately 70,000 Canadians died by suicide and countless people suffered with illnesses that we have the capacity and tools to effectively manage, if only everyone were on the same page. People in New Brunswick have been waiting for change long before the announcement of any system review or report, and we have waited long enough. Minister Murphy, something has to give. There are lives and wellbeing at stake. Silence on issues of mental illness is simply no longer an option. Mark Henick is a student at St. Thomas University in Fredericton. He is the President of the St. Thomas Students' Union and is the youngest member of the board of directors for the Canadian Mental Health Association, N.B. division. He uses his experience with depression to advocate mental health awareness through public lectures and media. Mental health care Are you going to rebuild the crumbling foundation or just paint the dirt floor? BY: MARK HENICK, SPECIAL TO GLOBE AND MAIL UPDATE JUNE 26, 2008 Last month, New Brunswick said it would start a process of public consultation to establish a provincial mental health strategy by February of 2009. The decision comes on the heels of several developments that were set in motion by the release of former senator Michael Kirby's 2006 blueprint for transforming mental health services in Canada. It was in response to the key recommendations of this report that the Mental Health Commission of Canada was created — and thus the beginning of a national mental health strategy, a move long overdue in light of Canada's being among the last of the developed nations to take this step. We have seen progress more locally in the release of a report — Connecting the Dots — by the New Brunswick Child and Youth Advocate, the mental health initiatives of the provincial health plan announced in April, and the announcement in May regarding public consultation. But what does all this apparent progress mean to real people suffering from real mental illnesses? There is no question we need to change the system of delivery, but will we go so far as to change the very way we think about mental health in the process? Anything less, I fear, will be inadequate. I often speak about my experiences on the receiving end of the mental health-care system as a child, as an adolescent and as a young adult. When I give lectures and presentations about my experiences, people are often shocked that an illness, any illness, would be permitted by health professionals to become as obvious and serious as it did for me. But I was not a case that fell through the cracks. I eventually did receive treatment in some form or another. For the most part, the treatment came in the wake of various (and numerous) crises. It was unfortunate that I was not a case that fell through the cracks. By the time I was 18, I had been admitted to psychiatric units more than half a dozen times and hurt myself or attempted suicide on more occasions than I can remember. The scars on my body and mind are constant reminders of that. One would think that someone who goes through so much before finding some semblance of inner peace must be an exception. But, right now, there are countless people who are crying out for help but are not being heard. Maybe they're not loud enough. Maybe we're just not listening. However it happens, it seems to be the silent majority of people with mental illnesses who do not get the help they need. It is far from the exception that patients of the mental health system are left suffering beyond the point at which it unbearably degrades their quality of life. This leaves lifelong memories and permanent physical reminders of a crippling darkness and a tortured soul. Even after recovery, the risk to relapse is always there. It's like standing up and realizing that, no matter where you go, you can always look behind you and see that you're chained to a wheelchair — a different kind of wheelchair — always following close behind as a constant reminder of how easily and unexpectedly you can fall back into it. This silent tragedy may be overcome only if we change the way we think about mental health care. Rather than promoting a system of reactive intervention — where the system is always one step behind the illness — we should be encouraging a proactive and preventive approach. Wouldn't it be nice if we were to stop conceptualizing mental health as merely the absence of mental illness? While treating the illness is obviously necessary, thinking that it's the only step is naive. Our needs have evolved beyond that approach and so should our system. We need to create a mental health-care system that cares not only for mental illness but for mental health as well. If empathy for sufferers is not enough incentive to favour increasing proactive intervention, one need only consider the economic impact of mental illness. According to the World Health Organization, there were 3,648 suicides in Canada in 2002. For each person who commits suicide, it's estimated there are 100 attempts. Many of these people receive emergency health services, spend time in hospital, are referred to specialists and talk to an endless parade of mental health professionals. The Public Health Agency of Canada said in 2001 that "the estimated total [economic] burden of $14.4-billion places mental health problems among the costliest conditions in Canada." It points out that several data limitations suggest this may be an underestimate. But even this number predicts that Canadians commit suicide every 2½ hours. The Ottawa Citizen reported last month that "in 2003-04 Canada spent $6.6-billion on mental health, representing just 4.8 per cent (or $197 per person) of the total health budget," according to a study in the Canadian Journal of Psychiatry. This "puts Canada, along with Italy, at the bottom of the list in mental health spending by developed countries. As a share of the total health budget, Britain spent the most (12.1 per cent), followed by Germany (10), the Netherlands (8), Denmark (8), the U.S. (7.5), Ireland (6.8) and Australia (6.7)." The next time I run up a $14.4-billion dollar tab at a restaurant, I'm going to see whether it'll take $6.6-billion instead. By underfunding mental health care and by unwisely spending the majority of what little funding there is on after-the-fact reactive intervention without trying to prevent that which is costing them money, all levels of government in Canada are responsible for inflating their own expenses, sacrificing the effectiveness of the system, and degrading the quality of life for thousands of Canadians. But this is what you get with legislation that combines one of "the costliest conditions in Canada" with funding among the lowest in the developed world. I ask that both Judge Michael McKee, who will head the public consultation process in New Brunswick, and the Mental Health Commission of Canada proceed with care in forming mental health strategies. They'll have to decide whether to rebuild the house's crumbling foundation or just paint the dirt floor and sell it to the people as "new to you." If they are truly serious about change, the choice should be obvious. Maybe then I can have a real chance to escape this different kind of wheelchair once and for all. Mark Henick, a fourth-year student at St. Thomas University in Fredericton, is the youngest member of the board of directors for the New Brunswick division of the Canadian Mental Health Association. He is also a campus representative of the Canadian Psychological Association.