An earnest friend sent me an article from the World Tribune, a Buddhist publication. I know nothing about Buddhism, to be frank, but he's found practicing it to be very calming and rewarding. He sometimes chants for my health, which is nice and (maybe?) intermittently effective.
The article he sent is about Kim, a ballet dancer turned drug addict who was diagnosed with both schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. In the piece, Kim and her mother Clare talk about how they found solace for Kim, despite the jail stints, hospitalizations, homelessness, hallucinations, etc. It's a powerful story that, if you read between the lines, I think is really about how medication works to treat psychosis. The family ascribes Kim's wellness to chanting and faith, and maybe that's true too. But as a non-believer, it seems more likely to me that the "much stronger medication" was the answer. This story is also a strong example of the way mental illness impacts family members, especially parents.
I couldn't find the article online, so I typed the whole thing in myself. Please read it (after the jump). My fingers hurt.
[Photo by awfulsara via Flickr.]
Clare: I started practicing Nichiren Buddhism 33 years ago, married Ray in the 1970s and in 1979 had a beautiful daughter, Kim. She practiced Buddhism happily from the get-go and loved performing with the SGI-USA youth division’s music corps.
Kim: I felt loved and happy. My parents gave me all I needed and a lot more. I started taking dance classes at age 7. Shortly after, I decided to become a world famous ballerina. I remember telling my teacher and my father that. Ballet became my passion. I continued with other dance and art forms as well—jazz, modern, tap, acting and singing. My parents made me happy and so did my dancing. I felt loved by everyone.
Clare: After high school Kim moved to New York to follow her dream. She seemed extremely happy.
Kim: I got a scholarship at a school called STEPS right on Broadway. I was beginning to live my dream. I danced every day, practically all day. I was 5-feet-9 and had long struggled with anorexic tendencies. I started having trouble with my legs and feet, but I figured it was part of being a ballerina. Then, abruptly, unable to completely understand why, I quit ballet. I thought, I’m too anorexic. It’s too cold in New York, and I’ll never make it big. So I moved back home to LA. My dream died. That’s when my dad told me that he and my mom were separating. I had vaguely known that my parents were having problems, but it never affected my happiness.
Clare: I didn’t understand how she could give up her dream, but I was happy to have her near us again. Kim worked and seemed happy. After a year back home, however, her behavior grew increasingly strange. Early one morning, without telling me or Ray why, she flew back to New York. We had no idea how to find her. That was when I first chanted to connect to her through the universal Law of Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. I used every available minute to chant for her. I chanted for her to understand how special and important she is. She returned as unexpectedly as she left. She was OK but scared. She told us she had chanted on the airplane all the way back that she saw funny things in the clouds and heard loud voiced in her head. But she felt my connection through it all, which gave her comfort. Things got worse. One days she was uncontrollable and I called the police. She hit her father, ran out of the door, leaped over the garage wall and on to the street, where the police picked her up. They took her to a mental hospital for a 72-hour hold and kept her locked up for 30 more days.
Kim: I was diagnosed with schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. That was the day, when, in my mind, people started talking at me, not with me. I was hearing voices. I didn’t know where they were coming from, and I couldn’t understand what people were talking about. I hated the mental ward. I was put on medication and dealt with the side effects, which included gaining weight, anxiety, depression and being unable to speak or see clearly. It was like constantly treading water and almost drowning.
Clare: That was in 2000. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I was so frozen, I didn’t chant. I could do almost nothing. By this time I was practicing Nichiren Buddhism in an area that was not near to my many close SGI-USA friends. A few, however, continued to chant with me, but none knew the hell I was in or how weak my Buddhist practice had become. I had no clue about mental illness, so I took education classes, went to lectures and obtained the best doctor I could for Kim. No matter how much I learned, however, it didn’t help the numbness and despair I felt.
Kim: I returned to my mother’s home, but I felt trapped. I felt like no one cared about me—not my parents, not my family, not my friends. I experienced fear, sorrow, anger and hostility; emotions I never thought I’d ever feel. I was in hell.
Clare: When Kim returned home from her hospital stay, the first of many, Ray and I had to watch her every minute. Even though we were separated, we worked together for Kim’s sake. Most nights Ray slept on Kim’s bedroom floor because she would wake up screaming, with loud voices in her head. I didn’t sleep much and felt I was in hell most days, always afraid of Kim’s next move. She had become someone I didn’t know. She had lost her beautiful spirit.
Kim: I began to use cocaine, crystal meth and marijuana. I started drinking too. I was out getting high with everyone and anyone who’d give me drugs. I was raped more than once. I spent two separate nights in jail and lived in seven mental hospitals and two board-and-care facilities. I was in several car accidents, and I did a lot of bad things. I lost my voice and my ability to express myself, and I felt weak. No one wanted to be around me. Mom kicked me out of the house for coming home high a couple times, and I was homeless on a couple of occasions. I had gone from living in a beautiful home to a shack. I thought I’d never see the light in my life again. The only reason I didn’t commit suicide was because of my chanting.
Clare: Kim would stay away from home for days and sometimes return with a male stranger in the early morning hours. I had to put down rules, which in turn led to her staying out on the street more often. Whenever she was out, Ray and I would drive up and down the streets, checking coffeehouses, jails and even the morgue looking for her. I was so scared. I finally woke up and began putting my Buddhist practice first. How had I forgotten this? I started a major effort to chant Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, joined by many members. SGI president Ikeda’s words gave me much hope, particularly when he described how much chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo can open even the heaviest door that may block our way. He says, for example: “Difficulties impede the progress of those who are weak. For the strong, however, they are opportunities to open wide the doors to a bright future. Everything is determined by our attitude, by our resolve.” I became more certain that I am a Buddha, that I am connected to the universe and again I realized I am connected to all life. I gained the wisdom that I needed to make changed within instead of looking at what Kim had to do. I felt a strong connection to the Gohonzon and deep appreciation for my life. I was lifted above my despair and able to take action once again. People around me were surprised to see my happy face and saw new strength in me. They began asking questions, so I brought them to SGI-USA meetings. My determination was to chant with the same conviction as Nichiren Daishonin every day. In August 22004 Kim was again brought into a local hospital by the police. This time, her personal doctor convinced them to work with her to start her on a new, much stronger medication. He was hesitant to prescribe this because Kim would have to get weekly blood tests for as long as she took it. Also, patients on this medication typically gain weight, always a concern for Kim. It was, however, our last resort. Kim agreed to try. Almost immediately my daughter was back to being loving, spiritual and kind.
Kim: That wasn’t the only change I made. I began to chant Nam-myoho-renge-kyo as often as I could and once again began attending SGI-USA meetings. That was my turning point.
Clare: The day Kim returned to my home was my birthday, and she asked immediately if we could recite the evening prayers together. I will never forget that birthday present. Now when she shares her experience at SGI-USA meetings, I’m amazed at how deep an understanding of life she has gained.
Kim: Since I renewed my Buddhist practice, stopped using street drugs and started taking action for my life, I feel 100 percent better. I’ve been drug-free for more than a year. I’m not completely recovered, but instead of waking up to a day of hell, I wake up to one of joy. I have many goals, including finding a job and getting a car. I also love to perform. I want to get married and have kids. My greatest goal is total recovery. It’s wonderful to focus on my dreams again instead of merely surviving each day. I recently moved into a board-and-care facility, and I love it. I no longer feel trapped. My home now feels like a mansion instead of a shack.
Clare: There is so much more to tell, but mostly I want to express how deeply I appreciate Nichiren Daishonin, President Ikeda and all the people who stood by us through days and nights of chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. My SGI family never let me give up. I’ve learned to look outside myself for answers and changes. I love the journey of my life and, with conviction in my own Buddhahood, I know my daughter will live a fulfilling life.
Kim: I’m living again, and I love it.
