Irene
Irene
Don’t let a diagnosis stop you from living your life
Whenever Irene isn’t working as an instructor at an outpatient recovery center, you’ll find her at her art studio. There, she uses acrylics to create magnificent pieces—splashes of color on canvas in the form of landscapes and flowers.
It’s relaxing and therapeutic. There is no right or wrong when you are creating art.
The soothing images are in stark contrast to her early years, which were plagued by swings of deep depression and hospitalization. Irene’s first bout came at age 20, after she transferred from a small college where she was studying economics to a large state university.
I suddenly didn’t know what was going on.
Even though I was an A student and school had always come easy to me, I was overwhelmed. That’s when I asked to get help.
I was brought to a state hospital where I was told I had major depression, and it was not curable.
I was told I would be on medication for the rest of my life. It was a terrible experience.
“I began speaking at high schools and colleges. It’s incredibly rewarding.
Students come up to me afterward and say, ‘My mom has bipolar’ or ‘I have depression,’ and we start a conversation.”
Fortunately, Irene knew something about mental health struggles. Her father had schizophrenia. She remembers a time when she was younger when her dad was convinced there was going to be a country-wide blackout. She said he seemed drunk and wasn’t making sense.
We had a psychiatrist who came to the house, and Dad got better quickly. In fact, he worked for the same company servicing oil burners for 40 years.
This gave me hope that I could have a job and a life.
Having had that traumatic inpatient experience, Irene tried to live without ongoing therapy or medication. A few years later, her depression became so bad that her parents forced her back into a hospital environment.
Over the years, Irene would be hospitalized multiple times—none of them successful at curbing the emptiness she felt inside.
What’s more, each hospitalization led to her being fired from whatever job she had at the time, forcing her to find a new position once she was discharged.
Then in 1981, Irene had her first manic episode and was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Another episode hit in 1986.
It sounds ridiculous, but I got really angry because ‘The Color Purple’ didn’t win an Academy Award. I was hospitalized and had a month off work.
But this time when I got out, I still had my job. I was working for a big corporation then, and they had to treat my depression like any other condition. It was a relief.
Her last hospitalization was in 1996, brought on by the stress of a medical procedure. It was during that inpatient experience that she learned from a friend, and now colleague, that talking about her journey could be therapeutic and could help others.
I began speaking at high schools and colleges. It’s incredibly rewarding.
Students come up to me afterward and say, ‘My mom has bipolar’ or ‘I have depression,’ and we start a conversation.
She also helped cofound The Awakenings Project, a nonprofit organization, which led to the studio Irene loves. It’s a place that welcomes anyone with mental health issues to come in and create—artists, writers, musicians, and playwrights.
Irene has witnessed how self-expression through art can heal wounds and build confidence.
The project doesn’t charge membership fees—the materials are funded through grants from the Illinois Arts Council Agency. The project also hosts shows and events featuring the artwork.
Irene hopes the idea catches on in other states, so more people managing mental health issues can participate.
Not only has creating beautiful paintings helped Irene feel good, but she notes that she hasn’t been hospitalized since the project began 26 years ago.
It’s been an incredible project. We sometimes sell the work, but we always get exposure and talk to people about mental health. And a lot of the artists and supporters have been working with us since the beginning.
We have friendships that endure. It’s no doubt what has kept me well all these years.
