Showing posts with label isolation of Mental Health issues. Show all posts
Showing posts with label isolation of Mental Health issues. Show all posts

Monday, 9 May 2016

How Safe is Your Church for Me?

A couple of weeks ago I gave a talk at Lancashire Roofbreakers. The group was set up just over a year ago and was originally called the Lancashire Churches Disability Network, which was quite a mouthful! For those who may be wondering where the new name comes from, it refers to the story of a group of friends who carried their paralysed friend on a bed to see Jesus. Of course he was visiting a family home and crowds made it impossible for the friends to get to Jesus. So, they climbed on the roof (look at Middle Eastern homes - it's entirely practical!) broke through and lowered their friend right in front of Jesus - hence the term Roofbreakers. The aim is to explore and find solutions to the problem of inclusion for those with disability in accessing and being included as full members of church communities.


As many readers of my blog know, Mental Illness is the invisible disability and it is often neglected when discussing accessibility in churches. The following is a blog I have written as part of the report on the morning of talks, which can be read in full @includedbygrace on Twitter, or google Lynn McCann, a brilliant champion for those with Learning Disabilities with a particular focus on those on the Autistic Spectrum. Lynn has been a real encouragement to me as we have met when her timetable allows to discuss the common ground between LD issues and Mental Health issues.


The following is a summary of my talk:

How Safe is my Church?

It is interesting to consider how quickly our minds move towards physical and accommodation issues when considering this question. Or am I a minority of one? I find it interesting when listening to others whose concern focuses on other disabilities. The need for ‘inclusion’ seems to equate to making sure people can all join together in one big crowd and how we manage to make it physically possible for that happen. This includes the size of our buildings, accessible doorways, seating etc.

As someone who has grown up in churches of all shades and opinions and who lives with a complex mental health condition, the focus on the physical surrounding is irrelevant to me in helping me to feel included within the Church Family.

My biggest problem with Church, is the people. Not the attitude I encounter (although stigma remains a massive issue) but the fact that Church by its nature forces me to spend time with large numbers of people. Let me explain why this would be a problem to me. I have a diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder. It is sometimes now referred to as either Emotionally Unstable PD or Emotionally Sensitive PD.

Marsha Linehan, an American Clinical Psychologist who has created an effective therapy for BPD called Dialectical Behaviour Therapy and who finally admitted she herself shared the diagnosis, has summed up the experience of living with BPD as follows:

‘Borderline individuals are the psychological equivalent of third-degree-burn patients. They simply have, so to speak, no emotional skin. Even the slightest touch or movement can create immense suffering.’

Let’s just pause for a moment and imagine that the presence of other human beings, of any number can feel excruciating, then let me ask some questions about ‘how safe’ the way we do church, especially on Sundays, feels to me.

How Do We ‘Do’ Church?

Medieval

If you spend any time visiting the large spectacular buildings of our historic churches and cathedrals, we can observe how the medieval church gathered. It was often the largest building in towns and villages and therefore was used for mass gatherings, there was no seating. As a modern church, we have inherited buildings from earlier generations. From a purely appreciative perspective, it is fantastic to know that there is such a ‘Cloud of Witnesses’ who have gone before us. Have they always worshipped solely in large spacious buildings, in large crowds, or has there been a different way of gathering together?

Victorian

We have a legacy of physical spaces which force us to look at numbers over quality of relationship. What then, of the timetable of fellowship in each week? The Victorians put pews into the large medieval structures, or mimicked them by building huge structures in the medieval image. That means that it would feel like a waste if our main meeting together didn’t make use of this accommodation. What about two large gatherings every Sunday? Evening services effectively developed when Sunday Schools were at their height and churches needed to feed their Sunday School teachers spiritually. Is the way we plan services on a Sunday effective for today’s needs?

Big Crowds

When I am invited to join in with my church family I am caught in a conundrum. I know that the Bible exhorts us to ‘not give up meeting together’, but why do our gatherings focus primarily on large groups of people?

We like numbers, in a society where Christianity faces many challenges sometimes our need to gather in large numbers can feel like a form of defence. It’s okay, we may say, if our large Victorian building is full, especially every Sunday. We feel safe in large groups. They’re anonymous.

If the presence of people inspires anxiety and panic in me, is it safe for everyone? What would happen if our focus moved from joining together as the whole church body (particularly in large and growing churches) and looked at how well supported our small groups are? It’s easy to escape the challenges of living in fellowship if you only attend the large, well-attended meetings particularly on Sundays. It also allows us to absolve our responsibility to be an inclusive church to the Welcome or Leadership Teams.

Family Focused

For many with Mental Health issues, families are not safe places. I need you to teach me and model for me what a loving family can be. Is the emphasis on children, and the importance of family in the way you do Church, hurting people who have internal wounds which need to be healed? I found it interesting at our meeting of Roofbreakers how much time was spent discussing the needs of children in church with Learning Difficulties and the practical solutions offered to help them stay in Church. Many of the solutions were on drawing people into the larger group. The prospect of only being able to access Church if I am prepared to manage my emotional responses enough to ‘cope’ with being in groups of 100+, terrifies me so much, most Sundays I either have to put in all my energy to staying once I’ve managed to get myself up, to the building and through the door, or I opt out.

How Can we Do Church?

Redefine

Can we redefine church from being the gathering of EVERYONE in our circles on a Sunday to a broader definition? How often do we enjoy being able to share in the Spirit with the struggles of the church worldwide, while we neglect the regular remembrance of those who are housebound, or unable to join with us due to disability of any kind. For me, the ability of friends in ones, twos and small groups to meet together and support me spiritually is vital to me feeling a part of the church.

Do we need to look again at where the church started? 3000 were suddenly added to the church at Pentecost, where did they all end up meeting? They didn’t have large buildings, nor did they have the ‘evangelical timetable’. You know the one: Sunday is Church, Monday is Ladies’ Prayer, Wednesday is Small Groups, Thursday/Friday is Youth.

Where is the idea that Church is ‘where one or two are gathered in my name’, or ‘Whenever they met together’. If Church is only Sundays (I know and have heard many times, ‘Church is not the buildings but the people’) then is the way we define Church out of sync with what we believe about what Church should be?

Break Down the Numbers

What would happen if our focus was more on organising ourselves as mainly meeting as church in smaller groups. What if our gathering of the ‘whole’ congregation became less regular, on a monthly basis, and the main point of teaching was within smaller groups? What if we sold our buildings off, or changed them to be an essential resource for the community, thereby having a daily presence of the Church in witness to the world?

Challenge Stigma

The best way to challenge any prejudice is to introduce the bigot to a real living person with whom they have to interact. If you want to know how my experience of life and faith differs from yours, ask me. In smaller groups it is easier to break down barriers. Again if Church only means the big Sunday Services, it becomes very easy to pat me on the head and distance yourself from what I’ve been banging on about at the front. Especially, if you misunderstand what Mental Illness is and how it affects people.

Relationship

My understanding of the Christian gospel is that relationship is central to it. In the beginning, God established that ‘it was not good for man to be alone’.

Before we are in relationship with God there is a vacuum. Emptiness and isolation are common symptoms of a number of complex and more common mental illnesses. It follows then, that the Church has hope to offer to people with Mental Health issues. God understands that we were made for relationship.

Is the way we do Church at the minute designed to help us develop effective and satisfying relationships with one another? I often have conversations with people about how dissatisfied they are with the lack of depth in their Church friendships. That’s because we fail to apply God’s principles to our Church relationships. We emphasise our relationship with God, rightly and stress the importance of time spent learning more and more about Him through prayer and Bible Study.

The Church is Christ’s Bride, that means that every one of us form a part of one body, we are all united to one another in Christ. Somehow, I think we have decided to accept that this mysterious, spiritual union, somehow negates the necessity to learn more about one another, in fellowship.

How do we do that? By spending time with one another, for me the most effective and safest way to get to know my Church Family is in ones and twos. When I spend more time with you during the week, then there is a shared understanding when we come together for worship and fellowship as part of the wider family. If I can see that I am accepted, that there are reliable relationships and true friendships, then it makes the struggle to get to the bigger meetings worth it. How important, really is relationship and enabling the building of in-depth relationship, in the way we currently do church?

I am not offering any answers. I recognise the inherent challenge in much of what I have said. However, I hope it helps us to engage with the thorny issues around probably the most isolated disability group in our churches. Solutions and hope for relationships are welcome.

Saturday, 19 April 2014

The Robinson Crusoe Effect


When I was young I used to enjoy television on a Saturday morning and one of my favourites was an old black and white dubbed version of Robinson Crusoe. Apart from the ace title music I loved the story of a man who was on an island and was desperate to get off it. My child’s view was that, of course Robinson’s efforts were all about getting off the island and back to society. However, when I studied the original novel at University I realised that Robinson’s story was much more complex than that. After many years he had adapted to life on the island until the thought of rescue in the end became something that was bittersweet.

Life with a mental illness has been described in many different ways and one which resonates with me was from Sylvia Plath, the American poet. In an autobiographical novel describing her lowest points in her late teens and early twenties she described her life with Mental Illness as being like life inside The Bell Jar. I have related to this on many occasions, as sometimes it feels as if I have been trapped in a vacuum sealed glass jar; others could see me, but I had no way of making them hear me. At times the best way I could find to describe this was that I was 'inside my own head, screaming'. If you have felt the isolation brought by depression and other mental illnesses you may relate to this sense of being cut off from the rest of humanity.

Like Robinson Crusoe, depending on how long you may have struggled with mental illness, you may find yourself feeling in two minds about ending the isolation. On the one hand, emotional distress is exhausting and there is little energy to cope with others. On the other hand, remaining isolated from others only confirms some of the more negative thoughts about yourself and stop you from receiving emotional energy from others.


For me life on the island of Mental Illness was painful, but ultimately, I was 'safe' from humanity. Basically most of my emotional and psychological wounds were the result of the actions of others. This along with the combination of my biological predisposition has meant that I have battled psychological maelstroms all my life. When I was diagnosed and offered 'shelter' in MH services, I was able to find some respite from the dangers of relationships. I have been quite happy not engaging to any emotional depth with anyone over the past nearly fourteen years, since the last traumatic breakdown of a relationship. Being 'in treatment' has meant that I have had a focus on managing my BPD and it was a convenient excuse to ignore the need to engage with anyone outside my therapy bubble. Except, I have reached a point where I feel strong enough to manage relationships. I don't trust everyone yet, 'In God I trust, all others have some way to go to prove themselves...' But I have let some people in and it's been ok. I know I am healing because I can say I am fond of certain people and look forward to their company. I still enjoy my times of solitude, but I am no longer in danger of going for weeks at a time with no human contact. I would say that I have learned that in order to cope positively with my relationships and friendships I know I will continue to need those times on my own to recharge my emotional batteries - people I think will continue to tire me.

I have now been given a date for my final discharge from Mental Health services. I know that it is testament to the journey I am completing (at least this stage). I am happy that there is equilibrium in my life. It's not perfect. I still react emotionally in situations that other people take in their stride. I continue to battle some of the demons from my past. I have developed new skills and rather than my BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) controlling me, I am feeling that I can ride it's storms and maintain a level of stability which will allow me to step off my island and sail back to 'the mainland'. However, I am aware that I have been sheltered on my island, I have had safe places and people to whom I can speak to about my ongoing battles with my emotional extremes. I am at the point on my journey to recovery where I can see the docks looming into view and will face the prospect of walking the gangplank back to the life I was ripped from about five years ago. It's a scary thought.

However, I'm not going back to the same country. Anymore than Robinson Crusoe would recognise the world that awaited him back in England, following his many years on the island, the place I left behind no longer exists. Many of the friends I had then have fallen by the wayside. Some gave up on me, some have considered me 'lost at sea' and others just haven't been that interested in maintaining relationships in general. There are other friends, though who have strengthened the friendships with me because we have weathered the storms together. They have patiently waited for me to return from my desert island. These relationships rather than the therapeutic relationships are what will sustain me through my recovery.

I still face the pain of the final separation from people who have been really important to me, who have helped me, who have been privy to the most intimate details of my heart and soul. That's not an easy transition to make. In the past I have moved on too quickly, I have not allowed myself time to grieve friendships and relationships. The process of leaving services is yet another opportunity to learn a new way of doing things. Of allowing myself to feel grief and know that I can live with it. What is different about these therapeutic relationships is they have been honest, straightforward and have delivered what was promised. When we have had issues I have felt confident enough to be honest about the impact of mistakes on me - what has been refreshing is the level of self confidence in my CPN and therapist which has meant that they could own mistakes and we could work through the implications together.

My journey out of services has above all, been well planned. This ending has not taken me by surprise, and though I can acknowledge that it will be a difficult transition, I know I am ready to return to life after the island.