Narrative Knowing: The Powers of Personal Story
Up until six years ago, I talked about my OCD and Asperger's Syndrome with only a select group: family members, mental health professionals, and peers with mental illness. But after a while, this wasn't enough. I was making good progress in treatment and was comfortable risking a wider circle of disclosure. Because I was a filmmaker, I made the documentary OC87: The Obsessive Compulsive, Major Depression, Bipolar, Asperger's Movie to talk publicly about my psychiatric problems and journey of recovery. When we finally started to show people the film, I emerged from my unhealthy shell.
But with emergence came fear, as well. If I disclosed too much, I feared rejection. I risked it anyway. A few months ago, during a community dinner in my apartment complex, a woman sat down next to me. We talked about our work. I told her that I was a filmmaker, then took the leap: I revealed that I was making OC87 and what it was about. She smiled and said, "That's wonderful . . . tell me more." I was relieved that she did not shun me. To this day, we remain friends. Since then, I have told others about OC87 and the response has been positive. But that doesn't mean that all my risks and anxieties have dissipated . . . it means that I go forward slowly and carefully. Recovery is not an easy process.
And for some, that road is just beginning. This was brought home to me by a powerful experience I had at a regional screening of OC87 for NAMI (National Alliance for the Mentally Ill). After the question and answer session, a gentleman took me aside. Welling up with tears, he said, "You gave me the answers I never had before. Thank you." He hugged me. I was amazed that my story had so much power.
Speaking out is a necessity. I'm reminded of a friend, John Gallagher, who jumped off a building with the intention of ending his life. Surviving the 45-foot fall, he later told me he wouldn't have jumped if he had spoken up sooner. John and his family eventually wrote a touching memoir, No More Secrets. I believe it has saved lives.
But speaking up has other important attributes. According to a psychiatric journal article, recovery narratives make a vital social point that mental illness is not all about isolation and ongoing deterioration: this counters stigma. Second, creating a narrative provides a context to chronicle personal strengths, including dreams and meaningful relationships. Also, when we re-tell our stories, we naturally redefine how we see ourselves. The article also points out that creating narratives has been used as a healing intervention. In one study, when patients with serious medical illnesses developed personal narratives, they realized that although illness had impacted their identities, it no longer defined them (ReStorying Psychiatric Disability: Learning from First Person Recovery Narratives, Ridgeway, P. Journal of Psychiatric Rehabilitation, 2001).
Clearly, we live in a world where we are known by what we tell about ourselves. And for those who are trapped behind the bars of stigma, first person narratives are significant because they give hope. Your story will be an example that they, too, no longer have to be silent. When that happens, they come out of the darkness of pain and into the light of acceptance. And so will you.
Bud Clayman is a filmmaker who lives in Philadelphia. He is the founder of RecoveryDiairies.
