Showing posts with label Family Hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family Hope. Show all posts

Wednesday, 9 May 2018

Team Gum: How Fran and I Share Our Mental Health Journey

“You’re stuck with me now, Frannie. I hope you realise that.”
“Like gum on my shoe.”

Fran and I are a team. Team Gum. That’s the starting point for pretty much everything we do, especially in the mental health arena. Our book. Our blog. Our social media presence. Podcasts. Interviews. Events. Book readings. Everything.

There are no hard and fast rules for how we balance things between the two of us and with the many other aspects of our lives. It depends on the nature of the work itself, our individual skills, experience, and preferences. It also depends on our commitments, health, and whatever else may be going on in our lives at the time. I thought it would be interesting to take a look at how it all works for us.

Mental Health Experience and Awareness

It is no secret that before I met Fran I had little knowledge or awareness of mental health. Fran had a lifetime’s worth which she shared, and continues to share, openly and honestly. Mania. Depression. Suicidality. Fatigue. Pain. Insomnia. The realities of living with chronic mental and physical health conditions.

I learned from what Fran told me and by spending time with her every day. I also learned from the books I started reading, from courses and workshops, and by engaging with others.

None of this means I really understand what it means to live with illness but I do believe it helps me set Fran’s lived experience, and that of others, in a broader context. And I have grown first-hand experience as a friend and caregiver.

Technical Skills

Fran worked as a highly successful electrical engineer before illness struck. She is technically competent which is a huge benefit, given that we live three thousand miles apart and do everything together online.

I work in the technology services industry (but please don’t ask me to troubleshoot your laptop or printer!) and have a fair measure of web, graphics, and computing experience. I love the technical side of running our social media, website and blog. When either of us is away from home I take the lead in ensuring we can keep in touch.

Writing and Creativity

Fran is a far more natural writer than I am. She is also a keen and accomplished photographer. She took the portrait photographs for her book For the Love of Peaks: Island Portraits & Stories: A Collection.

On the other hand Fran’s creativity depends a great deal on her health, energy and focus. The effect of illness on her motivation to create, her ability to do so, and the nature of her output (her writing in particular) can be profound. This is something we describe in our book. It makes it hard for Fran to work steadily at a project over a prolonged period of time.

I am more methodical and structured when it comes to writing. These are valuable traits when working on a long term project like a book, or committing to a blogging schedule as I recently have with bpHope.com, but they come at a price. I struggle to connect with the creative flow, not least because I tend to self-edit as I write. It is something I continue to work with. For example, I am currently experimenting with writing my blog posts out longhand in one of my Midori notebooks and typing it up later for editing.

Energy and Focus

Creativity aside, the tidal nature of Fran’s symptoms means she does not always have energy or focus to devote to projects. I provide the more or less stable structure to our work, keeping things moving forward so that Fran can contribute as and when she is able.

As far as possible we schedule our work around Fran’s health, allowing time in between for rest and recovery. At least, that’s the theory. We don’t always get it right. In the months leading up to our book’s publication we were working flat out with our publisher to get everything finished on time and to standard. I did most of the editing but each chapter, indeed every sentence, was proofread several times by us both. Fran was heavily involved at every stage including contract negotiations and book cover. She took a series of photographs which contributed greatly to the concept development, although they weren’t used in the final design.

We had an online cover reveal, and a book launch which was hosted online by us both and in person by Fran. This was followed by a book reading and charity fundraiser at a venue in Portland, Maine. Almost all the physical work for that fell to Fran and she hosted the event, with me attending virtually on a big screen at her side via the magic of the internet. In addition to all this we arranged interviews and podcasts, and there were marketing and promotion leads to be followed up.

It was the culmination of four years’ work. It was very rewarding but also exhausting and frustrating. It led ultimately to Fran getting severely fatigued and sick. She needed a prolonged period afterwards to recuperate.

Mental Health Community

Early on, our mental health contacts were all on Fran’s side of the Atlantic. Mostly these comprised her professional support team and people she had met over the years. As Fran’s friend and caregiver I got to know, and be known by, many of these people and organisations. Maine Health. It Takes A Community. NAMI Maine. Family Hope. Over time we started connecting with mental health groups and individuals online. Many of these were also in the US, including Stigma Fighters and No Stigmas.

At some point I recognised that I needed to up my game and connect with the mental health community here in the UK. My first approach was to Time to Change, the UK-wide charity campaigning to end the stigma and discrimination associated with mental illness. It was one of my wisest moves, and led to me connecting with many wonderful folk.

Much of our outreach is done online through social media but I have taken up the opportunity to attend events here in the north-east of England and further afield, including speaking at a mental health event last year in Ely.

For someone who used to have no social life and little in the way of social skills (the two facts are not necessarily unrelated!) it is a wonder and a delight to me that my life has changed so much.

It is interesting how our social skills complement each other. Fran is brilliant at meeting new people, which is a boon on vacations where she will strike up conversations with folk she has never met before. She finds it harder to maintain connections and friendships long-term. I have always felt more comfortable with established relationships, although I am learning to relish new connections and first time conversations. I have certainly “come out of my shell” to the extent that I now enjoy the people side of our work.

Visibility and Risk

Much of our motivation for working in the mental health area is to challenge stigma and discrimination, and to share the message that living with mental illness does not preclude or prevent deeply meaningful and mutually supportive relationships. The flip side of that coin is that stigma and discrimination really do exist and are rarely pretty. We risk negative reactions any and every time we raise our heads above the parapet. Every Facebook post, every open and honest conversation, may bring unwanted and unwarranted reaction.

The risk falls more on Fran’s head than mine. She is the person living with illness. She is the one with the diagnoses, the one whose symptoms, behaviours, and situation are being described or explored. With very few exceptions I have felt listened to and supported when talking about our friendship, about our book and work together, and about other crisis events in my own life. Fran on the other hand has personal experience of harsh and stigmatising treatment at the hands of others, and we go out of our way to protect against that happening again. It is part of the reason I am more of the “public face” of Team Gum.

Commitment and Motivation

A few years ago Fran and I spent some time coming up with vision and mission statements for our mental health work.

VISION: Our vision is a world where no one is too far away to be cared for or to care.

MISSION STATEMENT: To inspire connections between the ill and the well for a stronger more compassionate world.

Fran expresses her commitment with characteristic simplicity on her social media profile: “Passionate about making invisible illness visible.”

I recently changed my Twitter handle to include the words “#MentalHealth Author and Advocate.” This has brought me some negative feedback from people who see it as self-aggrandisement, or that I imagine I always know what to do or say to someone living with a mental health condition. Nothing could be further from the truth! I thought long and hard before claiming these labels. Doing so acknowledges how central our work has become to my sense of who I am and what I can contribute. No more, no less.

Just about everything I do or am involved in is part of our joint commitment to effect positive change. If I often take the lead it is because I have fewer challenges to face, not because I am more committed or passionate about what we are doing. I am encouraged and supported by Fran at every step.

We bring different things to the party and complement each other well. It is fascinating to me to witness how we have grown and learned from and with each other over the almost seven years we have been friends.

 

Sunday, 1 January 2017

Connection and Challenge: A Look Back at 2016

I don’t really do New Year Resolutions. Instead, I began 2016 by reaffirming the mantra which had served me well throughout the previous year:

Well boundaried. Well focused. Well challenged. Well loved.

In January, Fran signed up for Brené Brown’s online LIVING BRAVE semester, and for the next few months we worked through the lessons together. I read the books that accompanied the courses (Daring Greatly and Rising Strong) to Fran, and we shared our answers and responses to the weekly lessons. It was an intensely challenging experience for me. Early on, we were invited to explore our core life values (in my case, Connection and Challenge) and choose two or three areas in which to work (Brené Brown calls these “arenas”). I chose three, and will share one with you here. (The others I choose to keep private, as there is still work for me there.) The first arena I chose was: “To engage fully with local mental health groups.”

Within days, I was presented with the opportunity to volunteer for mental health charity Time to Change at Newcastle’s Mental Health Day. It was one of the scariest things I’d done in ages, but I stepped into the arena—and never looked back! You can read about my experiences here. I also volunteered with Time to Change at Newcastle’s Pride event in July, and was privileged to attend their Festive Networking event in December.

A chance encounter in my favourite coffee shop, Caffè Nero in Saint Mary’s Place, led me to the Newcastle Literary Salon. I wrote about the meeting in an open letter to Fran.

I got talking here at the cafe earlier with a guy who told me about a local writers’ group—Newcastle Literary Salon—which meets once a month. I looked them up and the next two meetings are on mental and physical illness. I will go along, and see if I can get a slot to read from our book. It’s scary to put myself out there in person, but that is part of what I’ve learned: to dare, to challenge myself—whether it’s doing a zip-wire slide from the Tyne Bridge to raise funds for Crisis, addressing the Mental Health First Aid team at Virgin Money, volunteering at the Time to Change Mental Health Day event, or appearing live on radio! I would never have done any of this if it were not for our friendship. Connection and challenge have become my watchwords.

The first Salon event I attended left a lasting impression on me, which I wrote about for the hastywords #BeReal blog series.

Courage and vulnerability were out in force last night at the Salon. I heard—really heard—people sharing words from the heart, from the guts of their personal experience. I connected with people I’d never met before, who knew nothing about me and about whom I knew nothing. I had fun. I felt my heart open. I made a new friend. I dared to be real amongst people who get what that means. I can’t wait until next time!

I’ve attended most of the monthly Salon meetings since then, and read aloud from our book on three occasions: June, July, and September. This fit perfectly with my twin values of Connection and Challenge. I remember especially one lady who approached me in person after my first live reading, to share how much my words had meant to her.

I’d like to take this opportunity to commemorate local poet Mark Potts, a Salon regular who died recently. I didn’t get to know Mark well at all, but he was someone whose performances I enjoyed, and who spoke to me—a newcomer to the literary scene—with warmth, and welcome in his eyes. He will be deeply missed by those who knew and loved him.

This year I have travelled both physically here in the UK—holidaying with my wife Pam in Brough (twice) and in Bowness—and virtually, accompanying Fran on trips in the US including New York City and Samoset.

When Pam and I stayed at Brough in April, Fran and I were eagerly awaiting confirmation of a publishing contract offer. I was floating that whole week. After three and a half years, we had found a home for our book. There would still be a great deal of work to be done, both before and after publication, but—we’d done it! On the final day of the holiday, news broke that the publisher had gone out of business. It was a huge disappointment, but something of a lucky escape. Had we been accepted six months earlier, it might have been hard to extricate ourselves from the mess. As it was, we had the satisfaction of knowing our book had been deemed worthy of publication. It did mean having to continue the search for a publisher or literary agent.

As things turned out, we didn’t have to wait long! Pam and I were on our next holiday, in July, when our son Mike messaged me to say the publisher he was working with on his novel was interested in seeing High Tide, Low Tide. Things moved quickly. Fran and I started working with Michael Kobernus from Nordland Publishing almost immediately. We signed our contract on August 8. One of the year’s highlights was the delighted shriek of excitement from one of my senior work colleagues on hearing the news! (No less noteworthy was pitching our book to the team conducting my bowel cancer screening examination. Connection and Challenge? You couldn’t make this stuff up!)

Our Facebook cover reveal event ran for ten hours straight. The official High Tide, Low Tide launch party was on October 1, which is also Fran’s birthday. We were delighted that so many of our friends were able to attend these events, both virtually and in person.

Later that month, I was proud to appear as a panellist in Maine Behavioral Healthcare’s annual It Takes a Community forum discussing social media and mental health. In November, Fran and I hosted a book party and fundraiser for Maine-based mental health nonprofit Family Hope at Blue.

At the close of the year, our book is “out there.” It is available for sale online at Amazon (Amazon UK) and Barnes & Noble, and in one highstreet bookshop: Longfellow Books in Portland, Maine. It is also available to borrow from the City Library here in Newcastle.

Fran and I have been blown away by the support and encouragement we’ve received, not just since our book was released but throughout the four years it took us to bring our dream to fruition. There are too many to thank individually, but we have recognised as many of you as possible in the Acknowledgements, which you can read using Amazon’s Look Inside feature.

We’ve been interviewed a number of times throughout the year. I’d like to give special thanks to Aimee Wilson, Steven Hesse, Diane Atwood, and Rebecca and Joe Lombardo for making us feel so welcome.

So, what’s next? I certainly achieved my 2016 ambition “to engage fully with local mental health groups” but I want to take it further. Mental health advocate and blogger Aimee Wilson, recently invited her followers to share their highlight from 2016 and their hopes for the year ahead. I responded:

1) Launch party for our book HIGH TIDE LOW TIDE!
2) To get more involved with Time to Change and other mental health folks

Aimee replied “Yay! Well 2 = more time with me!” which suits me just fine! Aimee, you are a great ambassador for Time to Change and a personal inspiration to me. I look forward to working with you in the year to come.

Book marketing will be a huge part of 2017. I’ve learned a lot, especially from book marketing guru Rachel Thompson, but there is a lot more to learn and a lot of work putting it into practice. Rachel’s new book BadRedhead Media 30-Day Book Marketing Challenge is a must-read and is on my Kindle already. A related challenge is to blog more regularly than I have done to date.

Fran and I are particularly keen to connect with trainers, tutors, and organisations interested in adding High Tide, Low Tide to reading and resource lists. If you are able to help in any way, please get in touch!

Whatever happens in 2017, I welcome the Challenges and Connections it brings. As for my mantra: I don’t think I can improve on the one I have:

Well boundaried. Well focused. Well challenged. Well loved.

Peace.

Marty

 

Saturday, 15 October 2016

High Tide Low Tide Book Party & Fundraiser

Sunday, November 6, 2016 / 1-5 pm EST

BLUE / 650A Congress St, Portland, Maine / www.portcityblue.com

Join transatlantic best friends Martin Baker and Fran Houston for an afternoon of music, readings and fun, to celebrate their new book, “High Tide, Low Tide: The Caring Friend’s Guide to Bipolar Disorder,” and raise funds for Maine-based mental health nonprofit Family Hope (www.familyhopeme.org).

“We thank all our friends who have come together to make our book, our event, and our way of looking at mental health a different way of being in the world.” (Martin & Fran)

About the book
We all want to be there for our friends, but when your friend lives with mental illness it can be hard to know what to do, especially if you live far apart. In their new book, “High Tide, Low Tide: The Caring Friend’s Guide to Bipolar Disorder,” Martin and Fran share what they’ve learned about growing a supportive, mutually rewarding friendship between a “well one” and an “ill one,” no matter how far apart you live. Their motto: No one is too far away to be cared for, or to care.

About the Authors
A successful electrical engineer until illness struck, author and photographer Fran Houston has lived with bipolar disorder, chronic fatigue syndrome, and fibromyalgia for over twenty years. Fran lives in Portland, Maine, and is passionate about making invisible illness visible. Three thousand miles away in the north-east of England, Martin Baker is an ASIST trained Mental Health First Aider and Time to Change Champion. A member of the National Alliance on Mental Illness, Mind, and Bipolar UK, Martin is also Fran's primary support and lifeline.

Facebook event: www.facebook.com/events/1316383898391984

 

Tuesday, 19 July 2016

Work Work Work

Stressing, striving, and straining never got me anywhere but sick. I was totally committed to my goals and achieving them at all costs. And I did. I was very successful as an electrical engineer, loved my work. I had the car, the house, the mate, the life. However, I had no balance, no boundaries, which basically translates into no wisdom. Inevitably, coupled with sickness, I lost it all. After many years of thrashing and grieving, beauty appeared. I found that tiny bit inside that was true. I listened to that and it grew.

The same philosophy of striving can be applied to healing. Getting fixed, getting normal, getting free of whatever ails you. At all costs. There are a lot of people who are not shy to tell you what to do. I listened and clung to every word until I hit the wall with no money and no cure and was once again only left with that tiny little bit. This time I accepted my illnesses, even embracing them. I now saw them as teachers who were merely showing me how to care for myself and to rely on the wisdom within. Living from the inside out rather than forcing my lovely spirit into an external mold of ego. Trusting in that process is not easy but it is transformative.

We even strive with playtime. We operate under FOMO (fear of missing out) rather than JOMO (joy of missing out). I live in a beautiful place with abundant things to do, see, and eat. It has been a very long road to let go of having to do everything. And seeing everybody. And eating everything. My illnesses help guide me to choose, where my no’s are, where my yes’s are, and the stuff in between. If it’s not at least 51% it is definitely not happening. I’ve learned to choose that which is rooted in my higher values and freely and thankfully let go of the rest.

We are Americans. We are about work, play, success, the American Dream. Yet when we fall short of that expectation we get really silent. We feel like failures. We want to hide. The bigger truth is that we are human, and we are beings. What is inside of us is more precious than anything outside of us, no matter what money can buy. When I realized that I became free.

Letting go of preconceived ideas of work, play, healing, and just about anything allows room for them to evolve and blossom from an original and creative space.

Fran

 

Saturday, 10 October 2015

Raise your head, raise your heart.

What an amazing week this has been. A week of awareness. A week of passionate and compassionate people making a difference.

I had an opinion piece in the Maine Sunday Telegram and attended two local events; an It Takes A Community public forum for Maine Behavioral Healthcare, and a fundraiser evening for mental health non-profit Family Hope featuring humorist Tim Sample of the Maine Humor Company.

It was hard for me. I don’t do events well. I get social anxiety. I get exhausted. My pain flares. My thoughts race. I can’t hear well. I can’t see well. It costs me. But the reward was gold. Attending these Mental Health Awareness Week events gave me the best gift ever. The reminder that there are people who care.

One soul there had undergone ECT every 2 weeks for 17 years. Forced. We all were riveted. Speechless. Breathless. I met someone who helps those in extreme situations and shared how this affected me. How amazing it is that there are many reaching out to those who can’t. We are all so different, as different as all the mental illnesses there are. Like a diamond. All the facets are needed and beautiful. And a rainbow shines.

Each of us has something unique to offer. Each of us has a part to play that no one else can.

Today is World Mental Health Day! Please take action, raise your head, raise your heart and raise awareness in your community.

Fran