Why this almost-35-year-old mama doesn’t mind wearing beige.

There’s a car commercial that has several women—all of whom are roughly my age and presumably mamas—pulling out of the driveways of their identical suburban homes, getting into identical beige cars, and generally acting like Stepford wives, although they most likely have professional jobs they go to Monday through Thursday, with a work-at-home day on Fridays. The voiceover says something along the lines of “everyone says you need a beige car now to fit your beige life. Break out of the beige and go bold!” (totally paraphrasing here). Then some woman breaks free from beige and shoots down the freeway in a bright red car. The commercial cuts off just before she gets a speeding ticket and a visit from CPS for child endangerment.

While I don’t have a beige car (but want one!), the outside of my house is beige. The inside of my house is beige. (Well, at least the remodeled parts. The yet-to-be redone parts are a shade of grayish-yellow that can’t be found on even the most inclusive color wheel.) Today I am wearing a beige shirt under a beige sweater, and I would have switched to a beige purse but I was running late, and does the woman at the DMV really care if I’m color coordinated?

My baby’s highchair is beige, as is his crib set, as is my kitchen granite, as is my kitchen tile. Someday we will redo our bathrooms in slate grey, another lovely neutral.

Much to my teenager’s surprise, my favorite color is no longer red, but is instead sage green (but red is a close second, mainly because I wish it were Christmas year-round).

So what’s with all the boring neutrals when everything in my life used to be fiery shades of red and bold swaths of black and animal prints? Why do 30-something-year-old mamas have a reputation for being so “beige?”

That’s easy: we must be beige to maintain our sanity.

When you have to hit the ground running at 5:45am after sleeping roughly 4 hours for the 10th night in a row (and no alcohol was involved on any of those nights), and your day is mired in total chaos by 7am, who wants the mental stimulation of zebra pillows and leopard print blankets? Or even a red car? The brain can only take so much. Of course, the number of kids one has probably influences this, as does ones natural resiliency; perhaps I’m just not that resilient.

But let me tell you, my kiddos don’t stress me that much. I mean they DO stress me, no doubt about that. But not as much as they could, based on what other people tell me. Why? Because when you live in a crazy house it’s smart to crazy-proof yourself, and that’s exactly what I’ve done.

That may sound like an exaggeration, but trust me: it isn’t.

Punk music? Nope.

Bright colors? Nope.

Emotion-laden movies? Nope.

Fist-pumping Irish anthem rock? Well, sometimes.

This is called self-preservation, not boredom.

It’s also why I had the following text conversation with a friend the other day:

ME: “Who is this booby $ person?” (referencing my friend’s recent FB post)

HER: “Huh?”

ME: “You know, this person whose breasts write her songs for her.”

HER: “Kesha!?? Tik tok?!? Oh boy.”

ME: “Hey, you have 3 kids [she has 1] and a husband who isn’t a DJ [hers is] and then see how cool you are!”

HER: “Awww. Where is C going to college?”

[momentary digression]

ME: “You still haven’t enlightened me.”

HER: “About Kesha?”

ME: “Yes.”

(She sends me a Google link, which is not helpful at all, because although I’m too busy to keep up with pop culture, I can certainly use a computer. When I looked her up, I found her debut album was released in 2009, the year Rachel was born. Case closed. Also in my defense is that I strongly dislike the majority of pop music).

ME: “Yesterday I was going somewhere and my husband told me I looked nice. I said, ‘No, I don’t. I look like a 34-year-old mom.’ And you know what? I did.”

She said nice things to make me feel better, then we went on to have a discussion about Capri pants, which she was also wearing. That made me feel somewhat better because my friend is still cool. (Did I mention she only has ONE child?)

The next day I went somewhere where many 30-something-year-old mamas were present. I started to count the number of women wearing Capris, but then I ran out of fingers.

But seriously, I am not apologetic. I am okay with being beige (and no, this blog post does not prove otherwise). You know that poem that tells old, empty-nest women it’s okay to wear purple? I’m here to say that, until your own nest is empty, it’s okay to wear beige.

PS – about 5 minutes after writing this, I realized this post may sound dismissive of the hard work parents of 1 do. I definitely do not mean to do that! Having 1 kiddo is terribly hard, so if you’ve got only 1, please feel free to go beige! (aren’t you so glad to have my permission? ;)) For me, personally, 1 was hard but not as hard as 3, but some people say the more you have the easier it gets! So I guess it all just depends (like most of life.)

No, this isn't beige, but in case there was any question: I was speaking more metaphorically than literally. Mostly.

No, this isn’t beige, but it is neutral. Also, in case there was any question: I was speaking more metaphorically than literally. Mostly.

Mental Health Awareness Month: Dual Diagnosis

Author’s note: While I may some day turn this into a legal, scholarly article complete with footnotes, statistics, solutions, and multi-syllabic words, please take it for what it is today: a blog post. It is not meant to address every problem with mental health treatment within the foster care system, but it is meant to get people thinking.

During my 10 years as a foster youth advocate, and my 5 years an attorney representing children and parents in the foster care/dependency system, I became very familiar with the mental health double whammy of a dual diagnosis (also known as “co-occurring disorders”). The National Institute of Health (NIH) gives this very basic definition of dual diagnosis:

“A person with dual diagnosis has both a mental disorder and an alcohol or drug

Based on my 15 years of professional experience with the foster care system, I feel comfortable saying that a very large percentage of parents who are involved in that system suffer from both mental illness and drug/alcohol addiction, or, in other words, are dually diagnosed.

The Problem

When social services removes children from their parents’ care and places the children into foster homes, the parents are given a case plan that outlines what the parents must do to successfully reunify—in other words, what the parents must do to get the children back in the parents’ care. For a mentally ill parent, the case plan will include a mental health evaluation, the recommendations of which the parents must follow. This typically includes counseling and appropriate medication. For a drug or alcohol addicted parent, the parent must complete drug/alcohol treatment, and prove sobriety by passing a certain number of drug tests. So we have two directives: 1) get help for your mental illness (i.e. medication) and 2) get sober.

In the case of the dually diagnosed parent, a special problem presents itself: psychiatrists will not provide psychotropic medication to a person who has drugs in his or her system. Since many mentally ill people turn to drugs and alcohol to self-medicate their illness, the requirement that a parent be completely substance free before psychotropic medications are prescribed is almost impossible to fulfill, thus creating a system of certain failure.

As the NIH explains:

“Sometimes the mental problem occurs first. This can lead people to use alcohol or
drugs that make them feel better temporarily. [self-medication] Sometimes the
substance abuse occurs first. Over time, that can lead to emotional and mental

“Someone with a dual diagnosis must treat both conditions. For the treatment to be
effective, the person needs to stop using alcohol or drugs. Treatments may include
behavioral therapy, medicines, and support groups.”

A Hypothetical

Consider a mother who has her children removed from her home because of her rampant drug use. After beginning her case plan, which includes a mental health evaluation, it comes to light that the mother had previously been diagnosed as bi-polar, and the current evaluator agrees. The mother is ordered by the judge to comply with the recommendations of a mental health professional. The mental health professional suggests that the mother be placed on lithium to treat her bi-polar disorder. That same mental health professional, however, refuses to provide the mother with a prescription until she has at least 30-days of sobriety, as proved by random drug testing. Because the mother is self-medicating her bi-polar disorder, she cannot stay off drugs for the required amount of time. Because she is not off drugs, she cannot get the lithium, therefore she cannot get off the drugs. As is apparent: this is a Catch 22.

Difficulties in Treatment and Reduced Odds of Reunification

There are some residential drug treatment programs that can help a person obtain sobriety for long enough to receive psychotropic medication; however, the beds in these program fill up quickly, and many will not take a patient with a dual diagnosis. The residential programs that are specifically designed for those with a dual diagnosis are few and far between, and of course, funding and space are always short.

Compounding this problem is a general culture of stigmatization, especially where dual diagnosis is in play, as well as an assumption that the parent will fail. Not all judges, attorneys, and social workers buy in to this line of thinking, but I would argue that the overall culture of the foster care system is one of misunderstanding and stigmatizing the mentally ill (including mentally ill children, but that’s a topic for another post).

For instance, one thing that often bothered me about the reports social workers write to summarize their interactions with parents is the common use of the word “admit” in connection to mental illness. Example: “Mother admits she suffers from depression.” Or, “Father admits he takes Prozac for his depression.” Or, “Mother admits to often being overcome by anxiety.” One “admits” to stealing or lying. One does not “admit” to feeling depressed or anxious, or to taking necessary medication to bring a very real illness under control. When mental illness is couched in terms of a crime, it is viewed as a crime.

In such a culture, the odds of a parent successfully reunifying with his or her children is drastically reduced, if not completely obliterated.

The Solution

According to the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, only a small proportion of those with dual diagnosis actually receive treatment for both disorders. In 2011, it was estimated that only 12.4% of American adults with dual diagnosis were receiving both mental health and addictions treatment. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dual_diagnosis#Treatment) This is in part because those with dual diagnoses may not be able to receive mental health services if they admit to a substance abuse problem, and vice versa. (Id.)

The following is an excerpt from Wikipedia, discussing treatment of dual diagnosis patients:

“There are multiple approaches to treating concurrent disorders. Partial treatment involves treating only the disorder that is considered primary. Sequential treatment involves treating the primary disorder first, and then treating the secondary disorder after the primary disorder has been stabilized. Parallel treatment involves the client receiving mental health services from one provider, and addictions services from another.

Integrated treatment involves a seamless blending of interventions into a single coherent treatment package developed with a consistent philosophy and approach among care providers. With this approach, both disorders are considered primary. Integrated treatment can improve accessibility, service individualization, engagement in treatment, treatment compliance, mental health symptoms, and overall outcomes. The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration in the United States describes integrated treatment as being in the best interests or clients, programs, funders, and systems. Green suggested that treatment should be integrated, and a collaborative process between the treatment team and the patient. Furthermore, recovery should to be viewed as a marathon rather than a sprint, and methods and outcome goals should be explicit.”

As you can see, there is no easy answer. The suggestions above take time, money, health insurance, and advocacy, none of which (most) parents in the foster care system have. These treatment options also require a streamlined and interconnected system, which is certainly lacking in the bureaucracy of social services. Given the short timeframe parents have in which to reunify with their children, the fact that treatment for a dual diagnosis should be a “marathon rather than a sprint,” is especially troubling.

I am not a doctor, psychiatrist, counselor, or social worker. I am an attorney, writer, mom, and wife. Unfortunately, the latter set of credentials does not qualify me to come up with a perfect solution, or even an imperfect one. I understand a doctor’s belief that mental illness cannot be treated while drugs are either masking symptoms or creating symptoms that wouldn’t otherwise exist. But perhaps greater reunification periods could be given to parents with dual diagnosis. Perhaps doctors could cross their fingers and hold their breath and hope that the medication prescribed works well enough for the parent to get sober, then doctor, parent, and therapist can see what symptoms are left, and what new ones appear.

Whatever the alternative, it can’t be worse than what these parents face now.

Mental Health Awareness Month

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. I hope to write a few things about the importance of de-stigmatizing mental illness, what our communities could do to help support those suffering from mental illness, and how we can reign in the myths of mental illness and create a truer picture of those who suffer. I have a few things pending publication elsewhere, and I have to wait until those are a “go” before I can put them here. In the meantime, here is a poem about anorexia, a mental illness that some may push aside as a self-created condition of teenaged girls. It is, however, a very serious mental illness that kills approximately 20% of those who suffer. For more information, please visit the NAMI website.


Neon hotel
The computer blinks as you cough.
I am uncomfortable on the floor.

I saw my collarbones once: thin beauty burgeoning.

Ribs jauntily flaunt, waiting to be counted,
balanced atop hip bones blooming in thin-skin soil.

The triumph of emaciation.

The control of self-denial.

The superiority over everyone,
especially her

and her.

I will be better than your broken nose, childbearing hips.
I will fight your curse with knives,
beat you with my brittle femur.


The Mentally Ill Need a Champion

I’m in a conundrum.

I am very in favor of gun control. I am very in favor of increasing healthcare services for the mentally ill.

I am also very in favor of de-stigmatizing mental health issues and getting to a point where we, as a nation, acknowledge the prevalence of mental illness among our neighborhoods, workplaces, families, and congregations.

And by “acknowledge,” I mean accept that mental illness is something that can and does effect anyone from any walk of life, any faith, and any socioeconomic status. And most importantly to the current discussion, acknowledge that severely mentally ill people only account for 3-5% of violent crime. Approximately 26% of the American population has a mental illness, and only 6% (1 in 17) has a severe mental illness.

What the mental health movement needs is a champion. Someone who is unafraid to talk about his/her illness, who has a friendly face, a humble nature, and who looks “faultless” in the eyes of onlookers. The mental health world needs a Ryan White.

I’ll never forget seeing Ryan White on TV when I was a little girl. I heard him tell the talkshow host (Oprah, I think) that you can’t get AIDS from spit. You can’t get AIDS from a toilet seat. You can’t get AIDS from hugging or even kissing someone. The list went on and on, and I was absolutely blown away. I thought for sure you could get AIDS all the ways he said I couldn’t. And he wasn’t gay. And he didn’t use drugs. Earth shattering stuff for a little girl who somehow, somewhere, had heard just the opposite.

Who doesn’t know those things now? AIDS is still stigmatized, but Ryan White did so much to bring it to the forefront of public conversation in a completely different way than it had been before. He forever changed how AIDS is treated and perceived.

Who will that person be for mental illness? Many famous people have come forward with their story of mental illness, yet to the best of my knowledge, no one has been able to champion the cause of de-stigmatizing mental illness the way Ryan White did for AIDS.

So what am I to think of the current gun control debate that makes mental illness a criminal justice issue rather than a public health issue and will cause many Americans to perceive mental illness as something to be deeply afraid of? That may cause people to avoid seeking treatment and that will further demonize and marginalize those who suffer from mental illness?

Probably what so many professionals and advocates in the mental health field have thought as the debate rages on: this isn’t how we wanted it to happen, but we’ll take what we can get.