We filled the auditorium & I sold my books!

Two years ago after my triumphant performance at the Doylestown Hospital Wellness Center, I called local hospitals to see if I could get another gig speaking about my favorite topic: Pre-Columbian Pottery in the Age of the Ptolomies.

Surprisingly, Abington Memorial Hospital has never been interested in hearing me speak about bipolar disorder even tho we're the most longlasting member of their support group network.

What dyou do when you get rejected? You try again. I scratched my head and said, Where can I speak that's in the requisite 20 minute driving distance? So I made a phone call to the Holy Redeemer Hospital Counseling Center and lo, Sister Gerry Fitzpatrick, said Cmon down! However, it wasn't for another year and a half.

What a long wait. In the meantime, I did get other gigs including mine own Upper Moreland Library at which time I wrote up a 40-page booklet with the title Yes I Can: Living Well with Bipolar Disorder and Depression. I slaved over that book, a true labor of love, and included I believe 3 or 4 of my poems about the illness.

Driving down in my new car to the counseling center, I was in a fab mood, radio tuned into my new fave radio station WPRB in Princeton. They were playing some awesome music at 6:30, I don't know how to describe it, I'd never heard anything like it before.

Hey, did you know that in N Korea, the populace is unaware of jazz? It's verboten. One guy accidentally found out about it (they probly imprisoned him for it) and he became ecstatic, What is that, he wondered. What a repressive country!

I pull up and my assistant Ellen is also pulling up. She took great c/o me, another Ada. During the presentation I called her my wet-nurse after she brought me a bottle of water but nobody heard me and Ellen did know what it meant. Please don't tell her.

The secretary had emailed me before the program and said 52 people had signed up. I thought it was a typo but it was true. We had to move into the auditorium.

When I walked into the auditorium 12 minutes early, all these people were sitting in their chairs - nice cloth swivel chairs - and they were waiting for me! "Hello everyone!" I shouted happily. "I'm your guest speaker!"

They were all wearing nametags, per my suggestion, and I told them that from previous experience I know they're gonna have lots of questions and that I want this to be an interactive evening and I'm here to answer their questions. I also mentioned I'd written a book which was available after the meeting for $5 apiece. I signed a huge number of my books, just like my daughter Sarah has signed for her wonderful Iris, Messenger.

I began talking right away even before everyone had filed in and before Sister introduced me. Why waste time? When I finished up, people said they wished I could talk all nite. The time of course went quickly and I was glad to get off my feet and get home to Scott who was waiting in bed for me. When I came home I showed him my dress and took off my high-heeled sneakers which are a teeny bit tight but unlike Cinderella's stepsisters, I decided not to slice off my big toe.

Sister had a metal pitcher of cold water waiting for me at my table and as soon as I got there I drank an entire glass. Man, it was hot outside.

Right away people began raising their hands. "Lemme talk a few more minutes," I said, "and then I'll take questions."

People were STARVING for information and to tell their stories.

I do not adhere to a script but talk about whatever they're interested in. I learned from my Doylestown talk to speak about substance abuse. Why do people abuse substances, I asked. The audience provided different answers, all correct, but the chief reason is the individual "just wants to feel normal." One woman's brother died from an overdose. Another woman's husband had killed himself many years ago and the woman was still very angry. I suggested she learn to forgive him and said that in a moment of unendurable agony people will take their own lives. We must have compassion.

Unlike other talks I've given, they were very interested in hearing my own story, my hospitalization, a history of my manias and depressions, my paranoia, my suicidal ideation. "This is why I invented the Keys to Recovery," I said. "I've been through so many scenarios."

I was thrilled to talk about it. At one point I said, "I know this sounds funny but even tho I was in supreme agony during my first mania, the supremest I'd ever been in, I felt privileged that in this little body of mine, God had allowed me to experience such intense feelings they were unimaginable."

I have to say that a former psychiatrist of mine, who shall remain nameless, refused to honor this statement of mine and called it a rationalization.

Questions included: How do you find a good psychiatrist - always get a referral, I said - you can check our New Directions website for a partial listing of agencies.

The first word I wrote on the white board was HOPE. I talked about the incredible resiliency of the brain. I also mentioned 'hidden personality disorders,' an inefficient way of handling life - that when it doesn't make sense or add up, a person may well have a personality disorder that must be addressed.

I was talking to Pam London Barrett this evening and told her I advised the group that bipolar people take an average of 3 medications. She said, That's right, Ruth. I heard this recently in a lecture given by Dr. Post, a top psychiatrist. Whew! Our Pam is getting ready to start a private practice. I said, Our whole group will come to you!

I counseled them to always try new things to stimulate their brains. I actually mentioned that when I see cars turn down streets I never knew about, I follow them and have learned many shortcuts over the years!

Hey, is it raining where you live? A quick thunderstorm here. I had to run out and close my car windows. When will I ever learn?