Lila Baker
Lila Baker has almost 20 years' experience of living with mental illness. She was first diagnosed with severe depression in early 1990s. She was subsequently re-diagnosed with "deep, deep depression" and then bipolar disorder. Lila describes a succession of episodes of unwellness, with each leading to institutionalisation.
“Once I broke my bathroom window and the neighbour called the police,” she says. “The police arrived, handcuffed me and took me in escort to Tokonui [psychiatric hospital].
"My cousin came with me in the police car and I remember one of the police officers when we stopped outside Tokonui telling her ‘This is when people get violent, when they finally realise they are going hospital.’ She said that my cousin should be careful, but I knew I could never be violent towards my family.”
The first three times that Lila became unwell she was in Tokonui. The fourth time she went to Kingseat. She said that she was always good at following the recommendations of medical staff, but that she still became ill.
Being in an institution for Lila had both bad and good moments.
“In some ways it was like a little village. You had hairdressers, a second-hand shop, a dairy and occupational therapy all on one site. It became your own little community. It provided for all your needs, so you forgot about the rest of the world.”
Journey to wellness
Lila likens her recovery journey to one poem by a tangata whaiora.
“She talks about depression as a big, deep, dark hole and the poem starts off, ‘I was walking along the footpath and came across a big, deep, dark hole and fell in’,” she says.
“The poet continues to fall into the big, deep, dark hole until finally at the end of the poem she walks around it. That was me, I fell in the hole of mental illness many times before eventually I learned how to walk around it.”
Helping her find the path of recovery was Lila’s Maori psychiatrist, Jennifer Rankin, who looked after her from 1991 to 1993 – and her nurse Hinemoa Tate, who worked in the Whaiora Unit at Tokonui.
“Initially I never stopped to ask myself what patterns there were in my unwellness – what was making me unwell. I hadn’t thought about how I could help myself, but thanks to Dr Rankin and Hinemoa’s questions I began to recognise the situations and behaviour that could lead to me becoming ill.
“I learnt how to say no and how to stay away from negative people when I know I’m unwell or becoming unwell. I became more aware of when I need help and medication.”
Lila says that having family really helped too.
“My whanau, extended whanau and my son became my motivation to get out of those places - to get well and stay well. There were others who really helped me too, like the friends I made in Tokonui, Kingseat and the wider consumer movement. Seeing other people on their recovery journey, helped me,” she says.
Discrimination happens to many
When it comes to stigma and discrimination, Lila always thought that she had the problem.
“At the time of my first episode I was working at the telephone exchange in Hamilton. I remember colleagues ‘black-listing’ me and crossing the street to avoid me.
“One member of my extended family said that I was as ‘mad as a hatter’ and was very unsupportive. Luckily most of my close family have been supportive and are always there for me.”
It wasn’t until Lila was involved in the Respect Costs Nothing research that she suddenly realised she was not the only one who was treated that way and that those experiences had a name - discrimination.
She believes that ‘mad people’ take the brunt of society’s and individuals’ bad behaviour, “but being bad does not equate to being mad.”
“There are those who hang onto their negative beliefs, leading to a lot of fear in communities. I was just reading about a new community house in Napier,” she says, “The headlines were about a ‘nuthouse’ – in this day and age!”
Likewise, employment is an area where Lila still sees discrimination and she understands why people with experience of mental illness choose to not disclose that experience during the initial employment process.
“If we could ensure that there was no discrimination then yes, disclose,” she says, “but I don’t think that we are there yet.”
However Lila says employment is vital to recovery and with the confidence that follows getting a job, many people now talk more openly about their mental illness.
“I got to the point where I did disclose because I didn’t want to work with someone who didn’t understand mental illness.”
She’s also noticed more people are willing to live next door to those with experience of mental illness.
“Both my neighbours know. One of them said to me that she thought the previous neighbour was mad. I said no, he wasn’t. I know 'cause I am certified as mad. He just behaved badly!”
Support those with experience
For those with someone in their own life who is experiencing mental illness, Lila says they should listen with their hearts and put themselves in the other person’s shoes.
“Everyone has a different experience of mental illness,” she says, “so don’t presume you understand their situation without trying to see it through their eyes.
“Having support is vital, but support needs to come with encouragement towards self-determination, because what happens when their support is not there? It’s important to empower others so they can handle their illness in their way and feel good about it and themselves.”
Lila now works in the field of mental health herself and says, “I get a great deal of satisfaction knowing that my work has changed other people’s lives.”
She believes in the strength of Like Minds programme and thinks it will continue to champion and lead to further changes in people’s attitudes and behaviour.
"Now my son is proud of the fact that I loved him no matter what and kept him. He says that through my experience he had learned how to tell when other people are unwell."
(first published in Issue 40, May 2010, Like Minds, Like Mine Newsletter)
