Columns

ON MENTAL ILLNESS: Right to Exist

Jack Bragen
Monday August 02, 2021 - 12:08:00 PM

Wherever I go, it seems as though a body of rumors precedes me. People talk. They judge. They don't necessarily have the facts, nor do they very often try to see things from my perspective. 

I feel as though I'm considered guilty of being Jack Bragen. In one instance, a person was accusatory because of me wearing a "nice shirt." It was as though if you are mentally ill, it is suspicious if your wife bought you a shirt. Others have questioned me concerning why I am in a particular public place, as though I need to explain myself for being--anywhere. Someone called me up to ask me why I was at a bank branch. It was my bank--I had banking to do. I didn't bother to explain this to the woman who called, I hung up on her, as was appropriate for such a bogus caller. 

Another person, or maybe the same person, called me to ask me whether I'd seen a psychiatric nurse practitioner to receive services on a certain date. Her question came across as though she'd watched far too much ancient television, specifically, Perry Mason. I replied to this pseudo-cop that I didn't have a way of verifying who she was and wasn't going to give her any information. 

(Information, by the way, is a commodity, it is worth something, and we don't have to give it out unless circumstances force it. When you are being questioned by an authority, you do not in all cases need to answer every question. While they may employ the power to intimidate, you should be aware of your rights.) 

What I've experienced begs the question: Where does this garbage come from? 

Some people apparently would lock me up if they were able to come up with an actual crime. Yes, I'm schizophrenic. Schizophrenic people are okay too. If you are mentally ill, it is not a crime to conduct yourself as though you are a normal person; you are an actual person. People with schizophrenia go to the bank, the post office, supermarkets, and some go to work. That's right, many mentally ill people have jobs. 

I wouldn't say this is like being Black; I acknowledge that Black people have it harder than me, meaning it is harder for them to be accepted as respectable. Yet, you could draw some parallels. In the past, in the days of "Father Knows Best" or "Look Who's Coming to Dinner" most white, gray haired papa figures probably would not let a Black man anywhere near their daughter. It's before my time, so I could not tell you firsthand, only by media recordings and word of mouth. 

I am past fifty, and this could put me chronologically in the same class as the gray-haired, father-knows-best, white men who were deemed supremely respectable and authoritative in earlier decades. This is dinosaur thinking, and I expect it to die off completely in the next ten to fifteen years. Nowadays, women can be considered respectable, and so can nonwhite people of any age. 

Racism, misogyny, classism, antisemitism, and all other forms of less respect for those not white, male, and gray haired, have been pushed into the category of ignorant extremism. Republicans are forced to adopt liberal beliefs when those beliefs are accepted into mainstream thought. The difference between liberalism and conservatism is largely a time gap. At some future point, it will be considered ignorant and bigoted to assume that mentally ill people are dumb and belong in institutions. 

I should be respected for my work. Not just for becoming a good writer and thinker, but also for the degree to which I've strived to recover from psychiatric illness--this takes work. 

Instead, I am regarded with suspicion. People wonder that I haven't died, and they probably don't like the fact. Maybe I, too, belong to the dinosaur age, a time before human beings devolved, with love of Donald Trump as the main symptom of this. But for me, this is not about disliking Trump, it is about my quest to be left alone by idiots. 


 

Jack Bragen sells books on lulu.com in the U.S., and on Amazon in the U.K. and other countries, including but not limited to: "Schizophrenia: My 35 Year Battle: Vignettes of Hardship and Persistence." He lives in Martinez, California.