
Liza Long shares her experience raising a violent, mentally ill child:
A few weeks ago, Michael pulled a knife and threatened to kill me and then himself after I asked him to return his overdue library books. His 7 and 9 year old siblings knew the safety plan—they ran to the car and locked the doors before I even asked them to. I managed to get the knife from Michael, then methodically collected all the sharp objects in the house into a single Tupperware container that now travels with me. Through it all, he continued to scream insults at me and threaten to kill or hurt me. That conflict ended with three burly police officers and a paramedic wrestling my son onto a gurney for an expensive ambulance ride to the local emergency room. …
In the wake of another horrific national tragedy, it’s easy to talk about guns. But it’s time to talk about mental illness.
Sy Mukherjee examines mental health services in Connecticut:
The National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) reports that Connecticut’s public mental health system currently provides coverage for less than one in five Connecticut residents with a serious mental health problem. The other four may not be able to afford to pay for those services on their own, particularly since mental health issues tend to disproportionately affect poor people. Many states do require mental health evaluations and background checks before allowing their residents to purchase a gun. But doing an evaluation isn’t the same thing as actually treating people with ongoing mental health conditions.
We do not fully know what the killer's psychological profile actually was yet. Perhaps we never will. There are some hints and guesses here. But that we need a broader and deeper discussion of mental illness in American society seems undeniable to me, along with a much more aggressive attempt to treat those many people hovering at the edge of compulsion and violence. The salient debate only begins, it seems to me, after we have rejected the easy extremes – that such a person is inherently evil or somehow blameless. And every case will be different, because every human life is different. To infer anything general about an individual case like this – especially the hideous, reckless and grotesquely unfair generalizations that have been made about people dealing with autism or Asperger's – would be deeply wrong.
But at what point does mental illness require action? I saw my own mother taken away from me and sent to a mental hospital when I was four. She was admitted several times again as I grew up – and since. She was put through electric convulsive treatments several times – a fact my young mind simply could not fully handle. They're electrocuting my mummy's head? And then she was there again – my beloved mother, the same but fragile, living her life for many years as if she were crawling naked on broken glass in the dark.
Was her disease intensified by her own personal history and situation? Sure. The first breakdown came during post-partum depression with my younger brother. Was it also something beyond her control? Absolutely as well. Did its ripple effects come to overwhelm all of us in different ways? I'd say – after a lot of therapy – that I was obviously traumatized at an early age by this kind of experience. It defined my emotional development. It wiped out my sister's retention of an entire year at elementary school. Mental illness does not usually massacre children, as just happened. But it wounds and hurts countless others because treatment is not there, and stigma still endures.
My mother, to put it baldly, never harmed a soul. Her illness was the greatest threat to herself. But it changed the lives of all those around her – and the families with people with mental illness have issues to deal with as well. And by chance, this weekend, I saw Silver Linings Playbook, which for the first two-thirds of the movie, really does courageously explore the edge between disease and wellness, sanity and madness, truth and social expectations that dealing with such illness exposes. For that alone, it's a movie whose humanity and depth surpasses the morally neutered Zero Dark Thirty.
It also establishes, it seems to me, a clear and defensible line: the illness that can lead to spasms of violence is the one we need to control and treat first. This is an incredibly hard call for a family with a mentally unwell human being in its midst to arrive at, as the story above shows, and as my own memories echo. But it is important. In a less grave instance, I realize now that the mother I was sobbing for at four years' old (and multiple times thereafter) was not a mother who could adequately take care of me until she got care herself. She needed help. And so did those around her.
We need to take that truth more seriously than we now do. Not just because we can help prevent mass death. But because we can also prevent lives that are living deaths of the spirit, and because we can now appease and effectively treat many of the torments whose turmoil spreads ever outwards. I hope Sandy Hook takes us further in that direction of policy adjustment. The issue of mental illness seems to me as equally relevant here as gun control. And we seem sadly often incapable of having a mature, and, above all, humane conversation about it.
(Photo: Teddy bears, flowers and candles in memory of those killed, are left at a memorial down the street from the Sandy Hook School December 16, 2012 in Newtown, Connecticut. By Spencer Platt/Getty Images)