It loomed like a castle over our arrival in dreary, grey, cold Indianapolis: the global headquarters building of Eli Lilly. "Lilly owns this town," says our host and curator/artist of the studio we appear in. He explains that this Mad Gifts Week discussion Mix and Mingle met a chilly reception when he spread the word in the community. Too many arts grants linked to Lilly. Too many people who work for Lilly. Too much Lilly corporate presence in the mental health system in this town. In many ways Indianapolis is hostile territory, but it's also a place where alternative views of mental health are needed.

Our event in the gallery was surrounded by his varied art from many years, wild introspective portraits, light boxes, and furniture. He tells us the story of how he found Icarus: by chance on the internet, looking up a possible name for a business idea, and how ever since Icarus has been a central part of his life and community. He's gathered a few people he knows for tonight's talk, and we enjoy the depth and relaxed pace that a smaller crowd allows. Everyone has a story of how a crazy world has no right to label as crazy people who don't fit in, and we talk about how the agenda of Eli-Lilly and other big capitalist companies is tearing down the very communities needed to truly promote mental health.

In the middle of the discussion I get an urgent call from a friend traveling in Western MA -- he's having a physical health emergency, but terrified to go to the hospital emergency room. Why? Last time he went in for a physical problem (nothing to do with mental health issues), guards were posted at his door, for no other reason than his chart says he is diagnosed with schizophrenia. Intimidated and terrified by the experience, he's now afraid of how hospitals might treat him. It's a huge obstacle to getting his emergency health needs attended to. This is what psychiatric abuse and a coercive mental health system do: they drive people away from services and set up barriers to health care. People labeled by the system have to live with this kind of second class ciizenship every day.

It's not a story that is new to me: I'm terrified myself of going to mainstream medical treatment because of how things could turn against me based on my history, and how I can get flashbacks from hospital trauma. I remember seeing a doctor for a shoulder injury, and complaining that I couldn't kayak or garden because of stiffness and pain. He told he I shouldn't worry about kayaking or gardening, and he wouldn't refer me for physical therapy. I was completely shocked and puzzled at this: then I put it all together and realized he was treating me like a mental patient. It even happened once with an acupuncturist in Northampton, who demanded I see a therapist or she wouldn't provide me services. For years later I would see this person on the streets of Northampton, a reminder that so much of the world, even well-meaning people, is afraid of people like me, and capable of mistreating me out of their fear.

I talk my friend who needed to go to the hospital, helped him with some ideas on his situation, and connected him with local resources from the Freedom Center to watch his back. Then I return to the studio with a clear example of the crazy world people with psych labels are facing. Our discussion turns to the Mad Maps Sascha, Madigan, and I have developed, the lists of warning signs and helpful tools we carry around and share with close friends as a way of supporting us to prevent and deal with crisis. Mine says never take me to a psych hospital under any circumstance. So many common themes in our Mad Maps, and also many distinct needs each of us has. Then we talk about suicide, how it haunts so many of us but is to taboo to talk about, and how crucial and helpful talking about it can be (without fear someone is going to panic or call 911 against you). We head downtown for Indian food and eat outside on a bench under speakers blaring the local 'alternative rock' station. Indianapolis, for all its cold and grey and despite Eli-Lilly's sinister omnipresence, seems a lot friendlier after we've made new friends and opened up about hard topics.

-- Will

_____________________

Hello. we're having an awesome time on tour: me and madigan and will seem to travel well together. we're all really intense, somewhat volatile people with lots of sensitivities, but we've spent enough time around each other over the last couple years that we're being really loving and sweet with one another. and the harshness of the outside world is good bonding. this country's so fucking scary. we were in a rest stop in ohio on the border of indiana yesterday and there was this sign on the wall with this incredibly ignorant, racist, xenophobic shit on the walls which i found on the internet today on the homeland security website:

Quote:
Seven Signs of Terrorism
5. Suspicious People Who Don't Belong
Another pre-incident is observing suspicious people who just "don't belong." This does not mean that we should profile individuals, but it does mean that we should profile behaviors. This includes suspicious border crossings, stowaways aboard a ship or people jumping ship in a port. It may mean having someone in a workplace, building, neighborhood or business establishment that does not fit in because of demeanor, language usage or unusual questions he/she is asking.


i started reading it out loud in shock and disgust and madigan freaked out and got all paranoid that we were being watched by the employees (which we were) and then i just got really angry and drove to indianapolis which, we discovered, is fucking run by eli lilly. all the arts people around the scene we were at got funding from lilly and are scared to go near them. we saw some gray industrial Night of the Comet shit in the warehouse where we were staying with our friend. they were fuckin awesome though, we all felt really lucky to be hanging out with them.

anyway, the world's fucking crazy but you all know that. we keep passing the new naomi klein book The Shock Doctrine between us and it's really good and it's really terrifying. the three of us stayed up late last night talking about mass torture and collective memory loss and cointelpro and all the scary shit we're up against and how it doesn't feel like we're doing enough fast enough and how we need to build the networks faster and stronger and tighter. and then at some point we just chilled out and appreciated one another and spent some quality time talking about all the really good work that us and our friends do. we loved meeting with inel from asheville and hearing about all the amazing work going on down there; we loved traveling with greg and pearl as they kept asking the right questions and posing the right scenes and documenting our mad work; we were all in love with neil in his big asian man w/ mohawk wearing a This Is What a Feminist Looks Like tee-shirt persona around the virginia tech campus. we're part of this incredible global movement that is growing all the time, growing and getting more creative - adapting and shifting and getting all freaky.

and the road keeps going...

-- Sascha