Dancing a line in the darkness

Lem Ward, a Depressionera woodcarver, said, “To be an artist is to hurt in silence, to hear the harsh words from loose tongues, to feel the pains of hunger, the aches

for understanding, and to sit in the

long, lonesome hours when evening comes.”

It’s a position, a status, which we honor and romanticize — the brilliant and tortured artist.

We are even more enamored with artists who danced, even crossed over, the line between brilliance and insanity.

We clamor for Van Gogh’s sparking mind, riddled by the lead-based oils with which he crafted his name, poisoned by Absinthe, and swinging wildly between mania and depression to ultimately arrive at suicide.

Or, Modigliani, reputed the “poorest man in Paris,” who died of influenza and consumption, unknown and unnoticed and unwilling to stop striving as a painter, impassioned beyond logic. His sympathetic landlord took his paintings as rent and then used them to patch mattresses. In 2006, one of those “patches” auctioned for $30 million dollars in New York.

The list could stretch on — Jim Morrison, Ernest Hemingway, Nathaniel Ayers — we all have antiheroes.

But, stray too far past “normal,” or cross the line without the balancing title of “artist,” and the culture that embraced will shun, turning you out to fend for yourself in the black lonesome nights.

The silence that wraps the artists, disorients the mentally ill.

And there are a lot of people crying in that darkness.

The National Institute of Mental Health reports one of four adults in the U.S. suffers from a mental disorder in a given year, ranging from severe mood swings to depression to schizophrenia to autism and Alzheimer’s. Six percent suffer from a serious mental disorder — much smaller number, but still one in 17.

How many people do you work with?

Jim Bloss, president of National Alliance for Mental Illness (NAMI) Snohomish County, knows too well what statistics support. “The need is huge – it’s a matter of finding those folks who need assistance,” he said.

As Bloss pointed out, most people aren’t too keen on drawing attention to themselves. Others are homeless – up to 39 percent of people who are homeless are also reported to suffer from mental illness — “casting about, wondering where to go and what to do.” Many others, Bloss said, are simply lost in the darkness.

In the best cases, he added, these people have an advocate, a friend or family member, to look after them. These caregivers need support, too, though, and are often casting about themselves for help.

Sometimes, they stumble into NAMI. That’s how Bloss ended up there: Looking for a resource. He found one, and now, 15 years later, he’s seen many other people follow the same path. Initially seeking assistance, they become part of the organization.

“Most of us are the friends, family members and significant others of people suffering from mental illness,” Bloss said. “Our goals are education, support, advocacy and research related to mental illness.”

This “matriculation” keeps NAMI growing. Bloss said graduates from the Family-to-Family program have stepped forward to begin other programs like NAMI Basics and In Our Voice, which trains people with mental illness to speak at conferences and in front of groups, telling their stories as inspiration to others.

And, many of these people are inspiring, “mind boggling, almost breathless,” Bloss said.

Most teachers can name a crazy-smart kid who suffers from ADHD, or bipolar disorder, or obsessive-compulsive disorder.

Others have read with blown minds astounding essays so obviously spawned from fits of depression, or met the painter who writhes in visible anguish through each masterpiece.

But now we’re back to artists, aren’t we? The safe zone.

What about people who simply live with mental illness, obviously or unnoticed? Why don’t we celebrate the countless individuals who make it through the day, the week, or to another birthday without the support of culture’s selective and idiosyncratic embrace?

If we were to walk the line between brilliance and insanity with a flashlight, and cast its beam far and wide, we’d realize it’s really a dance floor. And it’s crowded. If we looked long enough, we’d likely find ourselves, nearer or farther from the center than others.

Next month, NAMI needs you to take that walk, Bloss said. In this case, it’s only five kilometers. It won’t take you long.

The NAMI Walk is May 15, at Magnuson Park in Seattle, and check-in is 9 a.m. The fundraising goal is $150,000. Register at www. nami.org/namiwalks/wa.

Then, walk with an open mind.

Staff Reporter Jeremiah O’Hagan: 629-8066 ext. 125 or ohagan@scnews.com.