Such a brilliant post about mental health, privilege, and politics. On a very minor note, I smiled to see you were in the FFA. I was a Future Farmers of America sweetheart 2 years running—And I was certainly no future farmer! I want to find an FFA jacket on eBay and wear it every day to remind me of that time, at the height of my powers 😆
I so appreciate your open, honest reflection on your personal mental health and the lessons learned as applied to the political sphere. Your Wise Mind has much to say and share.
You can hold two opposing thoughts in your head and sharing that is a blessing. This from an Atheist.
It is funny how much the Wise Mind seems like applied nuance.
Thanks for pointing out the correlation between traumatic brain injury and presenting mental illness! None of the therapists I've seen have ever mentioned this!
Such a powerful essay from "wise mind". "So much paperwork" in DBT - I remember investigating CBT and stopping at about half an inch of printout, and that wasn't all the worksheets either. Tackling them all was the wrong approach on my part!
Keeping this as copy in my textEDIT--thanks Sherman, for this brilliant rundown, brave of you and a real gift to read for anyone who wonders about basic 'drivers,' of how friends/strangers and family members think and feel their way through life. Great information.
Never thought of myself as mentally ill (okay, only rarely thought of myself as mentally ill) but your thinking and experiences match mine nearly exactly. Except my craft requires me to center myself as opposed to leaning on my emotional mind. But I do like to write and I see that is totally my emotional mind's outlet. Anyway, thank you for laying this out so clearly, I understand myself better after reading your insights.
Thank you for your generous and open sharing of what it means to be bipolar. I have close relationships with several people who are bipolar. That includes my best friend of almost 50 years and my former sister in law. During their pregnancies they were off meds and did very well but had manic psychotic episodes soon afterwards. Medications and treatments have greatly improved since and they are stable. My friend has asked me to let her know if she seems off. Looking back I’m certain that an uncle was bipolar who self medicated with alcohol, decades ago. You’re a great talent and I appreciate your writings very much.
This may be the most personally useful work of yours I’ve encountered and I think k I’ve read everything you’ve shared. I recognize virtually everything you describe, perhaps only slightly toned down in intensity.. I will save it for repeated readings, post the DBT chart many places as a personal guide, treasure the times of calm (I forget the word you used, but will be using it often as I can!). I have been yelling at clouds a lot lately even when my emotional side is thinking “I love you, need you, treasure you.”
Sherman Alexie, thank you for this brave, open honest telling of your struggles with mental illness. You have so graciously shared your heart and mind and I thank you.
As for white privilege, you are correct, not all whites live in privilege. Many struggle in deep poverty and it is near impossible to break away from the "system" and poverty policies that trap the poor of all races from ever breaking free. I know this because I am white and I spent the majority of my adult life living in poverty.
We are blessed by your openess and willingness to share your struggles Sherman. Thank you...
Man. This was powerful. Still digesting. This paragraph seems particularly important: “At my healthiest, I can function in those grey areas. I can hold two opposing thoughts. I can be celebratory and disgusted at the same time.”
Dear Sherman, thank you for this essay. It’s profound. It speaks to me on many subjects. As I try to unravel my crazy-ass brain, your words help. Your words, here and in your books and poems, are teaching me, I hope, how to write about my own life and my family.
But I want to ask you about a memory I have. I’m not sure if it’s accurate, and please know that I do not mean to embarrass or attack you. (I think you are a treasure, a blessing, and a crown of creation!) I would just like to know if you remember this (a minor thing, and yet it stays with me).
Did you once give a reading at the Living Batch Bookstore in Albuquerque across Central Avenue from the University of New Mexico in which you said that when Coyote trimmed his toenails, he threw the clippings down to the world where they became the white people?
I can’t remember if it was you who said it. I can’t think of who else it could have been. Maybe Simon Ortiz? I don’t know. But I’ve never forgotten that moment. I remember that my feelings were hurt, and that I was embarrassed for myself and for all of my white friends sitting there, smiling, loving you, hearing that, and all of us nodding in agreement and shame.
I have a signed hardcover copy of The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. I must have bought it that evening. I thought I’d read it long ago, but I read it this week and realized that I hadn’t. I know I hadn’t read it because I would not have forgotten your hydrocephalus. I would have remembered that because I had a baby sister born with it; she died at five months old, seventy-five years ago. Every February 3rd my mother would call to say, It’s Kay Lynn’s birthday. Now, every February 3rd I think, I’m the only person left who knows this is Kay Lynn’s birthday. I don’t remember her; I was only eighteen months old when she died; but she’s always been a presence in my life. So I know that I hadn’t read that book until just this week.
It occurs to me now that maybe I didn’t read it back then because I was mad at you. That would have been like me. Just as it would have been like me to buy your book anyway, even though you’d hurt my feelings. (If it was indeed you.) If in my anger, I had not bought your book, I would have somehow showed myself as nothing more than dirty coyote toenails, and not the good white person I believed myself to be.
Not that it really matters. I’m not mad or hurt anymore. At you, or at whoever it was. Yet the memory is still with me, so I’m curious to know if you remember this moment in my life. I know that whoever said it was in Emotion Mind. I get that. I’m familiar with it; I have to guard against it all the time.
In my bipolar journey, I began with Prozac. It helped a lot with my debilitating depression. But then there was the mania, the impulsiveness, the leaping without looking. I remember once saying to my then-psychiatric that I thought that my sister was bi-polar; the doctor said, “I wouldn’t be surprised. You are.” Still, it would be a few years before I was treated for it when I was in a two-week intensive-outpatient program. It was the consensus of the treatment team that I was indeed bipolar. The psychiatrist there prescribed a mood stabilizer, which I’ve been on ever since (along with the Prozac). The meds seem to be working, but I have to be working, too. Always. Which I try to be.
On “Deadwood,” the Calamity Jane character says, “Every day takes figuring out all over again how to fucking live.” Oh my god, oh yes! I jumped up and wrote that down.
Jane says it as a complaint, and for years that’s how I understood it. But now, further along in my journey, I see that is it actually a simple statement of fact: that life requires our attention. Every day. Especially, I guess, if one struggles with mental illness. Life requires that we be vigilant about our values, our priorities, our thoughts, our actions. It’s a little easier to accept if I think of it that way and not as a poor-me whine.
I wish you much happiness, peace, and productivity! I thank you with all my heart for this substack site and for your generosity and openness. And for the opportunity to talk to you in this forum.
Yes, that toe nail story! I remember. It was meant to be offensive in reaction to the audience expectation that I would be a "traditional" Indian storyteller, speaking grand-eloquently about nature and such. So I'd tell that story, which is an old one in our tribe, to challenge those expectations. And to highlight that Native traditional stories are heavily filtered by white folks, leaving out the tales of war and rage and lust and hate and general debauchery.
Good morning, Sherman. We have a mastiff and a small poodle (both rescues, if that matters). This morning their toenails were clicking on the kitchen floor, and my husband said, "Listen! The white man dancing!" (a line from a Leonard Cohen song if you don't know it)). So your toenail story has become part of our family story!
Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can't tell you how wonderful it is to have you confirm that memory for me. I got tears in my eyes, when I saw your reply!
Such a brilliant post about mental health, privilege, and politics. On a very minor note, I smiled to see you were in the FFA. I was a Future Farmers of America sweetheart 2 years running—And I was certainly no future farmer! I want to find an FFA jacket on eBay and wear it every day to remind me of that time, at the height of my powers 😆
I have never seen this explained so eloquently before. But just a reminder Sherman, it helps to forgive yourself also.
Parsing out how powerful this post is… measured by the fact no one pithy granular statement can summarize.
I so appreciate your open, honest reflection on your personal mental health and the lessons learned as applied to the political sphere. Your Wise Mind has much to say and share.
You can hold two opposing thoughts in your head and sharing that is a blessing. This from an Atheist.
It is funny how much the Wise Mind seems like applied nuance.
Thanks for pointing out the correlation between traumatic brain injury and presenting mental illness! None of the therapists I've seen have ever mentioned this!
the Artist in you.
I am grateful that you stayed on this earth. 🙏
Such a powerful essay from "wise mind". "So much paperwork" in DBT - I remember investigating CBT and stopping at about half an inch of printout, and that wasn't all the worksheets either. Tackling them all was the wrong approach on my part!
Keeping this as copy in my textEDIT--thanks Sherman, for this brilliant rundown, brave of you and a real gift to read for anyone who wonders about basic 'drivers,' of how friends/strangers and family members think and feel their way through life. Great information.
Never thought of myself as mentally ill (okay, only rarely thought of myself as mentally ill) but your thinking and experiences match mine nearly exactly. Except my craft requires me to center myself as opposed to leaning on my emotional mind. But I do like to write and I see that is totally my emotional mind's outlet. Anyway, thank you for laying this out so clearly, I understand myself better after reading your insights.
Thank you for your generous and open sharing of what it means to be bipolar. I have close relationships with several people who are bipolar. That includes my best friend of almost 50 years and my former sister in law. During their pregnancies they were off meds and did very well but had manic psychotic episodes soon afterwards. Medications and treatments have greatly improved since and they are stable. My friend has asked me to let her know if she seems off. Looking back I’m certain that an uncle was bipolar who self medicated with alcohol, decades ago. You’re a great talent and I appreciate your writings very much.
This may be the most personally useful work of yours I’ve encountered and I think k I’ve read everything you’ve shared. I recognize virtually everything you describe, perhaps only slightly toned down in intensity.. I will save it for repeated readings, post the DBT chart many places as a personal guide, treasure the times of calm (I forget the word you used, but will be using it often as I can!). I have been yelling at clouds a lot lately even when my emotional side is thinking “I love you, need you, treasure you.”
Love you Sherman. Nothing like a good 4th Step
Sherman Alexie, thank you for this brave, open honest telling of your struggles with mental illness. You have so graciously shared your heart and mind and I thank you.
As for white privilege, you are correct, not all whites live in privilege. Many struggle in deep poverty and it is near impossible to break away from the "system" and poverty policies that trap the poor of all races from ever breaking free. I know this because I am white and I spent the majority of my adult life living in poverty.
We are blessed by your openess and willingness to share your struggles Sherman. Thank you...
Man. This was powerful. Still digesting. This paragraph seems particularly important: “At my healthiest, I can function in those grey areas. I can hold two opposing thoughts. I can be celebratory and disgusted at the same time.”
Dear Sherman, thank you for this essay. It’s profound. It speaks to me on many subjects. As I try to unravel my crazy-ass brain, your words help. Your words, here and in your books and poems, are teaching me, I hope, how to write about my own life and my family.
But I want to ask you about a memory I have. I’m not sure if it’s accurate, and please know that I do not mean to embarrass or attack you. (I think you are a treasure, a blessing, and a crown of creation!) I would just like to know if you remember this (a minor thing, and yet it stays with me).
Did you once give a reading at the Living Batch Bookstore in Albuquerque across Central Avenue from the University of New Mexico in which you said that when Coyote trimmed his toenails, he threw the clippings down to the world where they became the white people?
I can’t remember if it was you who said it. I can’t think of who else it could have been. Maybe Simon Ortiz? I don’t know. But I’ve never forgotten that moment. I remember that my feelings were hurt, and that I was embarrassed for myself and for all of my white friends sitting there, smiling, loving you, hearing that, and all of us nodding in agreement and shame.
I have a signed hardcover copy of The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. I must have bought it that evening. I thought I’d read it long ago, but I read it this week and realized that I hadn’t. I know I hadn’t read it because I would not have forgotten your hydrocephalus. I would have remembered that because I had a baby sister born with it; she died at five months old, seventy-five years ago. Every February 3rd my mother would call to say, It’s Kay Lynn’s birthday. Now, every February 3rd I think, I’m the only person left who knows this is Kay Lynn’s birthday. I don’t remember her; I was only eighteen months old when she died; but she’s always been a presence in my life. So I know that I hadn’t read that book until just this week.
It occurs to me now that maybe I didn’t read it back then because I was mad at you. That would have been like me. Just as it would have been like me to buy your book anyway, even though you’d hurt my feelings. (If it was indeed you.) If in my anger, I had not bought your book, I would have somehow showed myself as nothing more than dirty coyote toenails, and not the good white person I believed myself to be.
Not that it really matters. I’m not mad or hurt anymore. At you, or at whoever it was. Yet the memory is still with me, so I’m curious to know if you remember this moment in my life. I know that whoever said it was in Emotion Mind. I get that. I’m familiar with it; I have to guard against it all the time.
In my bipolar journey, I began with Prozac. It helped a lot with my debilitating depression. But then there was the mania, the impulsiveness, the leaping without looking. I remember once saying to my then-psychiatric that I thought that my sister was bi-polar; the doctor said, “I wouldn’t be surprised. You are.” Still, it would be a few years before I was treated for it when I was in a two-week intensive-outpatient program. It was the consensus of the treatment team that I was indeed bipolar. The psychiatrist there prescribed a mood stabilizer, which I’ve been on ever since (along with the Prozac). The meds seem to be working, but I have to be working, too. Always. Which I try to be.
On “Deadwood,” the Calamity Jane character says, “Every day takes figuring out all over again how to fucking live.” Oh my god, oh yes! I jumped up and wrote that down.
Jane says it as a complaint, and for years that’s how I understood it. But now, further along in my journey, I see that is it actually a simple statement of fact: that life requires our attention. Every day. Especially, I guess, if one struggles with mental illness. Life requires that we be vigilant about our values, our priorities, our thoughts, our actions. It’s a little easier to accept if I think of it that way and not as a poor-me whine.
I wish you much happiness, peace, and productivity! I thank you with all my heart for this substack site and for your generosity and openness. And for the opportunity to talk to you in this forum.
Yes, that toe nail story! I remember. It was meant to be offensive in reaction to the audience expectation that I would be a "traditional" Indian storyteller, speaking grand-eloquently about nature and such. So I'd tell that story, which is an old one in our tribe, to challenge those expectations. And to highlight that Native traditional stories are heavily filtered by white folks, leaving out the tales of war and rage and lust and hate and general debauchery.
Good morning, Sherman. We have a mastiff and a small poodle (both rescues, if that matters). This morning their toenails were clicking on the kitchen floor, and my husband said, "Listen! The white man dancing!" (a line from a Leonard Cohen song if you don't know it)). So your toenail story has become part of our family story!
Hahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahhahahahahahahha
Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can't tell you how wonderful it is to have you confirm that memory for me. I got tears in my eyes, when I saw your reply!