The Windhorse Project:
Recovering from Psychosis at Home
Jeffrey M. Fortuna
Published in: Journal
of Contemplative Psychotherapy, 1994, vol. IX, pp. 73-96, The Naropa
Institute: Boulder, CO.
The Principles of Theory and Method
The Clinical Narratives:
An Intensive Team: Jonah
A Partial Team: Rich
A Partial Team: Kathy
The Distinctive Features and Implications
References
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The Windhorse Project for recovery provides individually
designed and comprehensive treatment for psychologically disturbed
persons in home environments. This innovative program is described
by its founder, Edward M. Podvoll, M.D., in The Seduction of
Madness (1990) . This text presents a whole-person view of psychosis
and recovery that is illuminated by first-hand reports and the author's
clinical experience. Dr. Podvoll describes the methods of compassionate
care which involve a team of skilled therapists working closely
with a disturbed person in his or her own home. The network of these
individual treatment households, together with the households of
the staff members, have come to form an extended therapeutic community.
This community was initially established in Boulder, Colorado (1981)
as Maitri Psychological Services and then expanded to Halifax, Nova
Scotia, Canada (1989) as Windhorse Community Services, The primary
treatment and study center of the Windhorse Community is now located
in Northampton, Massachusetts (1992), where the present author is
the director of Windhorse Associates, Inc.
THE PRINCIPLES OF THEORY AND METHOD
There are four essential principles:
- Psychosis is a major disruption
in the balance of the body-mind-environment system that
dislocates the person from the functional reference points
of ordinary life. An effective treatment program must work
with all of the imbalances in the biological, psychological,
social, and spiritual dimensions of the whole person.
- Significant recovery is a real
possibility for anyone suffering in psychosis.
The person's intrinsic intelligence continually interrupts
any psychotic turbulence with momentary experiences of
insight and freshness that bring the person into more direct
contact with his or her body and surroundings. This experience
is a coming to ones senses, as if awakening from a dream,
Such fragile moments are "islands of clarity" that
must be recognized and protected as the seeds of recovery.
- Recovery can occur naturally when
catalyzed by authentic therapeutic friendships in a home-like
setting. Grouping severely disturbed people together in one
place of treatment may risk the health of both clients and
staff. An ill person is likely to become healthier when in
the company of other healthy people in a sane environment.
- A Windhorse treatment team attends to
the recovery of the client, and is also committed to the well-being
of each team member, the client's family, and the entire therapeutic
community. The traditional meaning of a healing community resides
in this wide-ranging intention.
These principles, when contemplated and experienced
in clinical practice, arouse the cheerfulness and resourcefulness
required to attend properly to someone on the arduous journey of
recovery. This attitude is an antidote to the potential exhaustion
of one's compassion and resources, and is embodied in the name "Windhorse" that
we chose for our service and community:
Windhorse refers
to a mythic horse, famous throughout central Asia, who rides
in the sky and is the symbol of man's energy and discipline
to uplift himself. Windhorse is literally an energy in the
body and mind, which can be aroused in the service of healing
an illness or overcoming depression." (Podvoll, 1990.
p.24)
These principles translate into a comprehensive
method of care that is simple and effective and has withstood the
test of time.
The method of care used in the Windhorse program
is home-based team treatment. The pattern and cost of clinical teams
vary on a continuum of intensity, depending on what is needed and
the available financial resources. Three primary components comprise
an intensive team (a partial team is less elaborate): (a) therapeutic
household, with live-in housemate(s), established as the locus
of treatment for each client; (b) basic attendance, a specialized
form of therapeutic relationship, is provided by a team leader and
several team therapists; and (c) intensive psychotherapy provided
by a principal therapist.
A pattern of meetings, facilitated by the team
leader and principal therapist, integrates the teams activities.
These meetings include: the weekly team meeting of team members
and client, which is of central importance; the household meeting
in the home with client and roommate(s); the team leaders
meeting with the principal therapist; the supervision meeting with
team therapists; and family meetings with client and family members.
If several therapeutic homes are in operation, then additional meetings
include: a community meeting of all therapists and clients; an all-staff
meeting; and housemate meetings of past and present roommates. These
larger meetings are often held in team members homes and provide
opportunities to socialize together. This meeting pattern gives
structural coherence to the treatment situation, and avoids the
fragmentation in care and in personal relations often found in situations
with multiple care providers. These meetings form a matrix of social
containment, which is essential since there is no fixed facility
to give boundary to the therapeutic environment.
The principal therapist and the team leader organize
the household and the team. They assess the clients needs,
capacities, and available financial resources, in consultation with
the client and family. An affordable treatment prescription is then
tailored to the clients situation, by combining more or less
of the primary and adjunctive components and the types of meetings.
Such a design is adaptive to the uniquely evolving situation of
the client, and future adjustments are made in adjustment in collaboration
with the client and family. Each team is intended as decremental
in size and cost over time, although the clients social involvement
with the Windhorse therapeutic community is encouraged after formal
treatment has ended. We openly acknowledge the possibility of significant
recovery but do not predict the degree or direction the recovery
may take. In practice, we commit ourselves to be in empathic contact
with the clients present condition and life situation. the
client's present condition and life situation.
The forms of a Windhorse team are as varied as
the range of clients' unique life-situations. Our experience has
shown that the most stable recovery from psychotic imbalance occurs
in the familiar surroundings of one's home, attended by gentle companions.
THE CLINICAL NARRATIVES
One intensive team is extensively presented, and
two partial teams are briefly described, to illustrate the principles
of the Windhorse theory and method. Consideration has been given
to confidentiality.
An Intensive Team: Jonah
I was referred by a colleague to the director
of the rural treatment center in Europe, where Jonah had been a
resident for three years. Jonah had made progress recovering from
a disabling chronic schizophrenia and was now able to perform minimal
tasks of daily living and to communicate with others. The director
and Jonah's family felt that a highly structured therapeutic environment
in an urban setting would foster his maturity. Jonah wanted relief
from a relentlessly tormenting "voice" that for five years had caused "heavy
feelings" in his "soul." He also wanted to live independently and
to visit India someday.
I contracted with a team leader and we negotiated
program cost and design with Jonah's parents and the referring director.
We invited Jonah to visit us for a week in Nova Scotia for a "mutual
interview" (see Fortuna, 1987). Prior to the visit, a psychiatrist,
three team therapists, and a potential housemate joined us to form
the initial team. The primary hiring criteria for team members are
whether they are willing, capable, and available to fully participate
in the team. In particular, a key question that I ask myself when
considering someone is: "Would I want to be with this person if
I were ill and unable to care for myself?" We held several meetings
to prepare ourselves for the visit and to design a schedule of clinical
and social events that would give Jonah sample experiences of the
program. I shared with the team what I had already learned about
Jonah, emphasizing equally his histories of sanity and illness (Podvall,
1983). I took special care not to burden the team with too many
preconceptions prior to our meeting Jonah. This began the subtle
process of the team finding its unique rhythm and emotional spectrum
in relation to Jonah, which is analogous to an orchestra tuning
itself prior to a concert.
During the visit, Jonah expressed in spite
of his withdrawal and his difficulty with English his desire
to be free of the "voice", and to be more independent. Jonah was
appropriate for our program as he was non-violent, able to spend
time alone safely and relate to a schedule, was personally motivated
to come, and because his cognitive ability and talents were intact
Jonah presents himself as a self-absorbed man
30 years of age. His current therapist informed us that Jonah often
inspires other people to feel affection toward him even though he
offers so little of himself in return. Jonahs face is obscured
by brown, bushy eyebrows, full beard, and long hair that drapes
his cheeks and neck. His skin is pallid and lack-luster. His stocky
frame of medium height is slouched and rigid with atrophied muscle
tone. Jonah tends to neglect personal hygiene, and his dark-colored
clothes are unkempt. If left alone he sinks into himself in bed
for long periods. He occasionally exhibits a surprising precision
in the way he handles an object or shakes someone's hand. He mutters
semi-audibly to himself in a snarling, exasperated tone (in his
mother-tongue), "let me alone! go away! it's all bullshit!" although
he explains that this is the "voice" speaking through him. He has
an addictive preference for caffeine, nicotine, alcohol or street
drugs which intensify his symptoms. He has been relatively stable
for the past two years on 4 mg. of haldol per day although he was
unhappy with the drug's side effects. Jonah's eyes are clear gray-blue,
the gaze most often downcast and fixed although he often makes prolonged,
startling eye contact. My first reaction is often to feel ensnared
by his gaze, then frozen in a helpless sympathy. After long moments,
he and I usually smile together, exchange a few words, and look
away. This contact illuminates Jonah's aura of angry impenetrability
and conveys the impression of a person of significant depth of feeling
and intelligence who is both drawn to and terrified of human relationship.
The Program:
1. Household: Jonah resides with a male
housemate in a rented, modestly furnished 2-bedroom home in a quiet
residential neighborhood during his 14 months in Nova Scotia. The
housemate needs consciously to relax his therapeutic ambition for
Jonahs improvement, allowing them to be more "down home",
together as ordinary roommates. This relaxation of strict professional
boundaries in the direction of genuine friendship characterizes
the Windhorse approach in general, and is fostered by each team
members practice of "asylum awareness" (Podvall,
1990). This is a practice involving momentary recognition of ones
tendency to exert therapeutic power over others as an unconscious
reaction to ones own anxiety or bewilderment.
Contact with insanity tends to provoke "asylum
mentality": a reflexlike way of responding to insane people
that can, in a moment, generate all the notoriously punishing techniques
of treatment used in a supposedly bygone era. Even in the most benevolent
of institutions, asylum mentality erupts as a series of self-deceptions
and primitive beliefs, or superstitions, about what madness is and
how it should be treated. (Podvall, 1990, p. 62).
Recognizing this tendency frees ones basic
attention from fear and fixation, and brings ones presence
back to the immediate experiential field of self, other, and situation.
This practice of asylum awareness functions as a contemplative discipline
in an interpersonal context.
The housemate and Jonah spend several hours together
each day in domestic living, sharing responsibility for housework
and cooking. Weekly household meetings are facilitated by the team
leader to review necessary chores, the arrangement of the environment,
the household budget, the relationships between house members, and
plans for hosting guests. Naturally the dirts of soiled air, floors,
and windows, of unspoken resentments, and of depression accumulate
in the environment. However, we remind each other the slogan, "Train
in cleaning up after yourself", as a bedrock ecological effort for
maintaining a decent household.
2. Basic Attendance: Four team therapists
and the team leader individually attend to Jonah during three-hour
shifts in his home and in the field. Two shifts are scheduled each
weekday, and each weekend day has one six-hour shift allowing for
leisurely excursions into the countryside. On this particular team,
the therapists all hold Master's degrees in clinical psychology
and have extensive clinical experience. They also practice a formal
type of mindfulness-awareness meditation which reveals the common
tendency to be absorbed in habitual patterns of thinking. This experience
allows the therapists deeper empathy with Jonahs entrapment
in mental projection. Mindfulness-awareness practice provides the
therapists with personal knowledge of how ones body and mind
can be joined and synchronized, which is also the intent of basic
attendance. This practice also serves as the basis for the interpersonal
practice of asylum awareness. The quiet household setting provides
opportunities for team members to attend to Jonah by gently encouraging
him to refocus his distracted attention on the sensory details of
ordinary activities. By practicing these "domestic disciplines," (Fortuna,
1987), Jonah strengthens his concentration and knits his mind, body,
and environment more closely together. Contemplative practices are
relied upon by increasing numbers of therapists to coordinate body
and mind as the foundation of their personal health and of the healing
relationship (see, for example, Kabat-Zinn, 1990).
Four adjunctive team members have weekly contact
with Jonah: a language tutor, an acupuncture and massage practitioner,
a psychiatric nurse and a psychiatrist who both monitor Peter's
medication and general health. Each adjunctive person attends a
team meeting monthly.
3. Intensive Psychotherapy (IP): As the
principal therapist, I meet with Jonah during 4 one-hour sessions
per week in the formal setting of an office. IP is a specialized
form of basic attendance rooted in the tradition of Edward Podvoll,
Harold Searles, Otto Will, Frieda Fromm-Reichman, and Harry Stack
Sullivan. In spite of the volumes written and the years of oral
instruction given, IP with highly disturbed persons seems an "endangered
species" in all but the most elite psychiatric hospitals. The
basic premise of IP is that human intimacy is a significant catalyst
for recovery from psychosis. The activity of IP is to cultivate
an authentic therapeutic friendship. Authentic means to recognize
that empathy with the clients experience happens naturally
as the starting point. Therapeutic means to search for and
give proper voice to the truth available in every interpersonal
moment. Friendship means that client and therapist become
trusted companions who encourage each other in a process of mutual
learning. In the Windhorse approach, the principal therapist is
just one element in an integrated treatment network rather than
the single point of meaningful therapeutic contact.
The root interpersonal discipline of basic attendance
can appear to be deceptively simple in its focus on ordinary daily
activities and on simply being with Jonah. There are many degrees
of sophistication in properly attending to the intricate function
of synchronizing mind with body and environment without forcing
a particular outcome. It is the concerted effort of the group of
people who practice basic attendance with the client and
with each other that constitutes the work of the healing
team. This is not a conventional multidisciplinary group of specialists,
such as a psychiatrist, social worker, nurse, and so on, who sometimes
consult together about their individual work with the client; rather,
it is a team that is facilitated by on-site leaders (internally
accountable) and whose members are openly responsive to each other
and to the task. This style of working team can increasingly be
found in the most successful political and business organizations
worldwide.
The team leader and I co-lead the weekly team
meetings and individually supervise team members. I maintain bi-monthly
phone contact with Jonah's father, who becomes a close collaborator
in the treatment. My work with Jonah's team is ten hours per week.
The team leader works 15 hours a week supervising the household
and especially the housemate, and tracks the details of program
budget, schedule, and case management. She and I are continuously
available by phone to the team.
The cost of Jonah's program is $300 per day. This
provides flexible and comprehensive treatment for Jonah's unique
life predicament in his own home, far below the cost of hospital
care.
The journey of treatment: The daily schedule
provides a predictable structure that safely moves the healing environment
forward. "Schedule is related to rhythms, cycles, number, counting,
the pacing of things, and the movement of seasons." (Podvoll,
1990, p. 261). The very fabric of human life is a dynamic pattern
of rhythms that is in or out of balance internally and with the
environment.
Just how the neurotransmitters
affect the mind itself is unknown. But everything indicates that
they affect the rhythms of the brain and the rest of the body
. . . . Everywhere there are patterns and rhythms of activity.
There are menstrual cycles, breathing rhythms, heartbeats, and
cellular oscillations; even the microparticles (known as organelles)
inside each cell have been found to be rotating and vibrating.
Every particle of life is involved in the musical activity of
producing rhythmic waves of energy. (Podvoll, 1990, pp. 184185)
The precision of the schedule sharpens Jonah's
mind and the team members awareness of the boundaries of experience,
such as between work and relaxation, or between daydreaming and
attending to the situation at hand. To be alone for long periods,
drifting into the future is unhealthy for any person recovering
from psychosis, especially from the negative symptoms of lack of
motivation, blunted affect, and social withdrawal. Constant attention
to the sane rhythms of schedule is the background of the work with
Jonah. This balancing and integrating of the rhythms of the clients
body, mind, and environment is a primary Windhorse medicine.
The weekday schedule for Jonah is typically as
follows.
8 am: Jonah awakened by housemate
or alarm; tries to dress and attend to hygiene.
9 am noon shift: team
therapist helps Jonah with dressing and hygiene, if needed, and
tidying bedroom; the two prepare breakfast, eat together, and clean
up; Jonah takes medication; reviews daily checklist for morning
routine; does pre-assigned housechore with team therapist; remains
at home or engage in an outside activity such as walking, shopping,
or going to the library, a cafe, or a class; rides bus alone to
IP appointment.
12 - 12:50 pm: IP session.
1 - 1:30 pm: rides bus or walks
home alone.
1:30 - 3:30 pm: attends language
tutorial or session with acupuncture/ massage therapist, or rests
at home alone.
3:30 - 6:30 pm shift (less structured
than morning shift): engages in an outside activity with team therapist;
remains at home and converses, reads or listens to music; prepares
dinner, eats, and clean up with housemate; takes medication.
Evening: Spends time with housemate
or alone; goes to bed after dinner or stays up later (regular bedtime
encouraged).
1. The First Spring.
The fresh beginning
with Jonah's arrival is reflected in the bright skies and flowers
of Spring. The team attends to the practicalities of establishing
the household and to developing rapport with Peter. We gently
urge Jonah to participate in spite of his well-honed resistance to
intrusion
by us or the "voice." Team members feel frustrated and rebuffed,
even hurt, by Jonahs refusal to "let us in." Each
person, with word, touch, or gesture, begins gently to call Jonah's
attention back from distraction. We observe that Jonah compulsively
eats unprepared food, smokes cigarettes, paces, mutters incessantly,
and lies prone for long periods drifting in and out of trance, dream,
and sleep. We soon discover an irregularity in Jonah's cardiac pulse
for which a medical exam shows no obvious physical cause. We observe
that Jonahs diet revolves around the stimulants of nicotine,
caffeine, alcohol and sugar. We notice that his speed of mind and
self-absorption intensify the more he ingests these substances.
Organizing healthier life rhythms becomes our first priority. We
intervene by tightening our control of his pocket money, keeping
healthier foods in the household (such as decaffeinated coffee),
and showing Jonah wholesome alternatives. We keep a warm pot of
bancha tea, the great "balancer" in the macrobiotic system
(Podvoll, 1990, p. 230), on a stove during the day, which Jonah
and all staff are encouraged to drink. We encourage more regular
exercise, reduce the haldol by 50%, and introduce Jonah to weekly
acupuncture and massage.
Jonah alternates between passive compliance and
stubborn resistance to these changes in life style. The team acknowledges
the risks of this exercise of therapeutic power, including, for
example, possibly reinforcing Jonah's sense of persecution and powerlessness
in dealing with the "voice" and any other real or imagined
forces beyond his control. We explain to Jonah the practical necessity
of such protective boundaries, and that our primary intention is
to encourage his personal motivation and independence. We listen
thoroughly to all of his objections concerning his restricted freedom.
Jonah's English is barely adequate, which further strains interpersonal
contact, increasing his sense of alienation. The concerted efforts
of Jonah and the team to learn each other's languages become the
tangible model for establishing a deeper level of communication
through his isolation and our alienating feelings of frustration
and impatience. Language dictionaries are kept close at hand.
The task for the IP sessions is for Jonah and
me also to learn to communicate meaningfully. We settle down together
in long silences and often share a cup of tea. I soon realize that
I must abandon any strategies to change or rescue in order to truly
listen to him. When I notice my mind wandering, I acknowledge what
relevance my distraction, whether daydream or feeling, might hold
in relation to Jonah, and then gently bring my attention back to
the rhythm of breathing, physical posture, and a general awareness
of the room. Frieda Fromm-Reichmann (1959) taught that the one prerequisite
for all intensive psychotherapy is, "The therapist must be able
to listen...in this other person's own right." (p. 65). IP is a
controversial aspect of the Windhorse approach. Most psychiatrists
with whom I spoke assured me that such intensive therapy is too
stimulating for the fragilely defended ego; is an anachronism now
that we have biomedical science and neuroleptics; has not been shown
by research to be of benefit; is not cost-effective; and has only
been useful in elucidating psychotic phenomenology. Critics often
fail to appreciate that IP acquires unique value when practiced
within a highly integrated therapeutic team. I am also faced with
personal fears that nothing is really happening, or that I am not
trained enough to deal with transference issues, or that too much
time and money are being spent on just sitting together. During
a session, Jonah, with a word or glance, draws me out of these discouraging
moments of doubt back to our relational space. Jonah is always on
time for our sessions and we both value our time together.
In our sessions, Jonah and I begin to investigate
his suffering, especially his experience of the "voice" in
detail. His sane doubts are slight, but they occasionally pierce
his delusional conviction in the "voice." Relating directly
with such moments of doubt as islands of clarity, in either the
therapists or the clients experience, is a cornerstone
discipline for the recovery from psychosis and of IP itself. (Podvoll,
1990, pp. 25-28). Jonahs involuntary muttering and snarling
soon come to dominate our sessions. In response, I introduce an
exercise the we repeat frequently over the next three months: Sitting
side by side, we focus our attentions on a clock for two minute
intervals and hold our mouths closed, breathing normally. During
the exercise, Jonah's mouth is unmoving and he reports, to his surprise,
not hearing the "voice." Later the practice is transferred to the
basic attendance shifts and the interval extends to five minutes.
Eventually, Jonah learns to hold his mouth still and to stop the "voice" for
several minutes at will, enabling him to stabilize and extend these
islands of clarity.
In the second month, we celebrate Jonah's birthday,
the team leader's new pregnancy, and a house warming at the household
with the team members' families. Jonah's anxiety and repressed anger
are becoming more apparent, and we have a healthy respect for how
he might eventually express his emotions.
2. The Summer.
This is the season of
growth and activity. Jonah becomes more alive to the world
around him, evidenced by a flushed complexion, robust movements, and
clearer
eyes. He briefly attends pottery lessons where he angrily pounds
clay and smashes discarded pots. Often he is in a rage, agitated,
restless movements and is occasionally sleepless. Team members
experience sharper alternations of being in and out of contact with
Jonah.
The structure in the household is increased concerning, for
example, Jonahs being fully clothed at home and not smoking
in his bedroom, which further irritates him. The housemate becomes
uneasy
and he and the team leader are in conflict. The housemate gives
notice that he will resign in the Fall and we begin to doubt
our decision to staff the household with only one roommate. The entire
situation seems directionless and potentially unsafe, and this
seems
to mirror Jonah's experience. The team bands more tightly together
by emphasizing precision of schedule and communication.
The tension builds prior to the Jonah parents week-long
visit to Nova Scotia in the fifth month. During a team meeting with
Jonah and the parents, we agree that Jonah is waking up in the middle
of his psychotic nightmare with no apparent means of escape while
experiencing his pain more clearly. Jonahs mother explains
that Jonah has been at this point on three past occasions "but he
always ran away before and now he cannot run away", His parents
cannot agree to his request to live with them. He becomes increasingly
agitated. We discuss with Jonah what he needs now in his life and
we agree to allow him to smoke in his room if he uses an air purifier
and smoke alarms; to have freer use of pocket money; and to begin
to plan a vacation for himself and a team member. Jonahs mother
states that "a person must have vision." And if Jonahs
is to visit India, then we could build on that interest in every
imaginable way. Later, we gently encourage the parents to abandon
feelings of guilt at having failed as parents. We emphasize that
their present mental health has a positive impact on Jonah. The
morning of their departure, Jonah is very sad and despondent, his
eyes welling with tears. Long gazes between Jonah and team members
seem laden with loneliness.
3. The Autumn.
The pace of summer slows
to the cool season of harvest. Jonah becomes more withdrawn
and depressed, and begins to ignore the schedule. This regression
coincides
with his parents departure, the roommate's termination,
a change in language tutors, and the team leader's increasing
preoccupation
with her pregnancy. Jonah's haldol is increased and valium
is prescribed. Over the 14 months of treatment, haldol is adjusted
across a range
of 1-5 mg./day, and valium is adjusted across a range of 5-20
mg./day. This treatment has a positive effect, which is reinforced
when a
new roommate of Jonah's age is hired. The new roommate has
a natural affinity for being with eccentric people and is a student
of the
healing arts. Soon after moving in, the roommate reveals, to
our surprise, that he is four months into his recovery from severe
drug
abuse. The team members become trusted elders to him and he
grows significantly over the next year. Jonah's and the roommate's
parallel
journeys of recovery serve to strengthen their camaraderie.
Jonah becomes curious about the smallest details
of things, whether the name and origin of a particular tea or the
place where a team member grew up. He begins to anoint himself with
a fragrant cologne and to enjoy luxurious bubble baths. He attends
the cinema with steady attention and resumes the swimming lessons
he had begun he previous summer. He begins to report that the "voice" can
now "taste what I taste, hear what I hear, feel what I feel." This
may be a beginning reintegration of Jonah and the projected "other." We
begin to remind Jonah of decent manners, such as in addressing other
people or in eating a meal. Behaving with respect towards one's
environment uplifts a person from the obliviousness that degrades
body and mind.
But by December's end, Jonah shows increased psychotic
agitation and withdrawal, feeling the emptiness of the holidays
away from home. He spends Christmas day at my home with family and
friends, remaining anxiously withdrawn on the periphery.
4. The Winter.
The sun is at its lowest
point and Jonah longs for a warmer, brighter climate. His frustration
and loneliness mount to an acute psychotic episode. One morning
he has a barber cut his beard and hair cut, and his muttering
and movements become pressured in an explosive buildup. In our
IP session
I am shocked to see his face so exposed, as if he had suddenly
emerged from hiding. He insists that his loneliness is intolerable
and that
he must return to his native country. I am unable to slow the
escalation. Later in the day, he vigorously punches the air around
him, plays
rock music loudly, and makes unintelligible sounds that frighten
his roommate. On an accompanied walk, he pushes a female pedestrian
against a parked car, because "she is Canadian", he later reports.
She is stunned but unharmed. I meet at the household with Jonah,
who is now shaking in bed fully clothed. I offer him enough medication
to reestablish contact. He reiterates his desire to return home
and I agree to consider this immediately. We remain quietly together
into the evening.
The crisis subsides overnight. When Jonah rouses
from a long, deep sleep we find his cognition stable, his interpersonal
contact excellent, and his motivation to continue with the program
unambivalent. The crisis seems to be a personal drama intensifying
to a breaking point, followed by a prolonged island of clarity.
The team regards this as a healing crisis. The meaning of the event
includes not only Jonah's manifest experience of missing his native
language, land, but his coming to direct contact with the profound
loneliness accumulated over years of social withdrawal.
Regarding a psychotic crisis as potentially healing
is a mark of an alternative to the conventional medical model
treatment. The crisis may not be the symptomatic recurrence of a disease
once
held in remission, requiring suppressive measures for a person
to recompensate back to a previous level of functioning. Rather, this
may be a crisis of organismic growth initiated by chaotic disintegration
of a previously stable state. The crisis is healing if the person
re-integrates to a more evolved level of meaning and function,
and
is destructive if the psychotic disturbance intensifies towards
further chaos, injury, or death. The outcome is significantly
affected by how one is treated by others, and how the person relates
to the
spontaneously occurring islands of clarity experienced as gaps
of doubt and wakefulness in the pressure of the crisis. Gregory Bateson
has proposed the notion of a "curative nightmare" – "... that
the body or mind contains, in some form, such wisdom that it
can create that attack upon itself that will lead to a later resolution
of the pathology" (Bateson, 1961, p. xiii). Persons in the patients-rights
movement insist that mental health professionals first consider
a psychotic crisis to have growth potential before altering its
vulnerable transitional states with involuntary treatments.
Jonah begins to describe openly his depression
as the alternation of "heavy, dark feelings in the soul" which alternate
with bright moments of sunlight or the companionship of women. He
vacations in Mexico with his roommate, curbs his overeating, and
reduces his cigarette smoking, all of which make him "feel better
and the 'voice' less difficult." Medications are again reduced.
Jonah joins a work-oriented day program for disturbed persons and
shows surprising skill in long-neglected hobbies of chess and backgammon.
He shows more concern for the team members, frequently offering
tea on shifts. A major focus for the remaining months becomes learning
the skills of conversation. We begin planning for Jonah's departure,
although it has been decided, with Jonah's input, that he will remain
for two additional months.
5. The Second Spring.
The cycle of the
seasons is completed. The team relaxes the program structure,
giving Jonah more responsibility. For example, having unsupervised
pocket
money communicates that he can care for himself . Increasingly
he is attentive to his surroundings and makes poignant attempts at
conversation. He is "coming out" with the tentative awkwardness
of one emerging from a harrowing inner ordeal. The team members
express sadness as our team community prepares to disband. Jonah
will join a Windhorse-style team in a familiar European town
accompanied by the current roommate who will continue to live with
him.
By telephone, the parents express their gratitude
for the opportunity that the Windhorse group has provided Jonah,
although the father expresses his doubts about whether Jonah has
really changed. It is revealed that when Jonah speaks with his father
by phone, he lapses into agonizing complaint about his condition,
even if he is otherwise having a good day. Jonah explains his notion
that if his father knows how bad he feels, then perhaps he can help
him and even accept him back home. He also expresses an old grudge
he has harbored for his fathers having forcibly removed him
at age 16 from the family home to a psychiatric hospital. I suggest
to Jonah that he is old enough and well enough to assume personal
responsibility for his experience, and that it is now time to unburden
others, especially his parents, from his pain. He considers this
and smiles enigmatically, leaving me uncertain of his meaning.
A weekly team meeting occurs the day before a
second birthday celebration for Jonah, two weeks before he is to
leave Nova Scotia. His psychotic turmoil has intensified over the
past 48 hours. Amidst forceful vocalizations and facial contortions,
he complains of the relentless torture of the "voice", of his inability
to do anything for himself, and of his wish to die. The team offers
him empathic reassurances and the obvious termination-anxiety interpretation
to no avail. He insists that we do not understand him, nor he us
and that there is no hope for him. With no way to bridge the abyss
with Jonah, the team doubts its work of the past year. I remember,
with some comfort, that at the end of anyones treatment, the
entire original problem often recycles as if nothing useful had
happened. I decide to delay sharing this conceptual interpretation,
as I feel to do so would drain the life out of this poignant group
experience. The meeting ends with no resolution.
The following morning Jonah is pleased to awaken
to birthday phone calls from both parents and is overjoyed. The
birthday celebration is a communal island of clarity, alive with
music, children's voices, and good cheer that eases our previous
days
struggle with isolation. Jonah responds with smiles to the thoughtful
gifts and affectionate
farewells he receives.
After 14 months together, the team meets at the
household. A photo album of Jonah and the team is presented to Jonah.
Final goodbyes and good wishes are exchanged and then it is time
for Jonah and the roommate to go. The team stays for a final cleaning
of the house, and then disbands.
I have remained in contact with Jonah, his parents,
and the roommate in Europe. Jonah continues his slow, steady recovery
in the context of a small therapeutic team and household. He and
his roommate have plans for the long-sought visit to India. Jonah's
parents and others who knew him before the Windhorse experience
acknowledge his improving health.
A Partial Team: Rich
Rich's parents were referred to our service by
a psychiatric hospital where Rich, age 30, had been a patient for
two months and was soon to be discharged. He had been removed by
the authorities from his parents home and taken to the hospital
during an acute paranoid episode of a disorder previously diagnosed
as "schizoaffective." After meeting with the hospital, the family,
and Rich, I agree that Rich would like alone in an apartment supported
by social assistance, continue under the care of his psychiatrist
of seven years, to be paid by medical insurance. A team leader,
myself as the principal therapist, and three team therapists would
comprise the therapeutic team. Rich would learn to live independently
by developing interests, a career, and a social life outside of
the family circle.
Once the team began its work, each team therapist
and the team leader met with Rich twice per week for the three hour
shifts of basic attendance, totaling eight shifts per week. Rich
spent Sundays at his parents home. I met with Rich for two
weekly sessions of individual psychotherapy, and joined Rich and
his psychiatrist monthly to discuss medications. The psychiatrist,
cognizant of the danger of tardive dyskenisia, had been eliminating
Rich's haldol and phasing in buspar, an anti-anxiety agent. I met
weekly with the team leader for planning and supervision, and we
met monthly with Rich's parents, most often including Rich. Supervision
of the team members occurred in the team meetings and by phone.
The cost of the service to the family began at $130 per day, decreasing
to $30 per day currently as Rich's capabilities have strengthened.
These figures do not reflect housing and psychiatrist costs. My
departure and that of another tea member reduced the teams
size and cost, and transferred more responsibility to Rich. He continues
to attend the weekly hour-long team meetings, now more central to
the integration of the smaller team.
A key clinical issue has been Rich's proper emancipation
from home. During his recent "paranoid episode", Rich reported he
actually was barricaded in his bedroom to give him the privacy to
plan out to move out, while his parents were privately discussing
the same matter. There has been no overt sign of psychotic disturbance
since Rich began with the team. A year later, Rich has become a
trusted elder in the family matrix, modeling the process of leaving
home for the younger siblings. The family has matured, and Rich
has discovered the necessary courage to relate more truthfully with
himself and others. In spite of his shyness, Rich has become an
active participant in the Windhorse community meetings. The journey
of the team with Rich has been as personally engaging, although
not as dramatic, as the experience with Jonah. The current plan
is to formally end treatment at the end of the second year, although
informal relations between Rich and the Windhorse community would
continue.
A Partial Team: Kathy
An elderly woman approached me
following a lecture I had given on the Windhorse program, and described
the condition of her daughter, Kathy. Now in her 40's, Kathy had
been suffering since age 18 with a disturbance diagnosed as "chronic
paranoid schizophrenia", that had required extensive inpatient care
and multiple medications. She had not been able to settle in supervised
residential setting and was back with her parents again. Life in
the household had deteriorated into intolerable conflict and her
father's heart condition was worsening with the stress. Kathys
parents felt that unless Kathy had a strong support network by the
time they had died, Kathy would succeed with the final in a series
of suicide attempts.
A team leader and I met weekly
with the family members in their to mediate conflicts and to establish
productive living patterns. The team leader provided case management
and one three hour shift of basic weekly. She was in almost daily
phone contact with Kathy and the parents, due to frequent crises.
We soon moved to my office for weekly team meetings, with Kathy
attending on alternate weeks. The team leader continued with the
house meetings. I met weekly with the team leader for planning and
supervision. Kathys psychiatrist of 20 years, paid by medical
insurance, agreed to our involvement is we did "not provide
psychotherapy or meddle with the medications." We agreed to
these conditions, but the psychiatrist has since withdrawn them.
The cost for the team was a reduced fee of $13 per day to her parents,
as they live on a small retirement pension.
After 8 months, Kathy moved to
an apartment support by a social service agency with whom the team
formed a collaborative relationship. The team expanded to include
a student and the director of a student housing agency, who are
working as volunteer team therapists with Kathy for their own professional
development. Kathy has grown into a capable householder and continues
to slowly untangle delusions from accurate perceptions with her
increasingly stable attention and discriminating doubts. Upon my
leaving Nova Scotia, the team leader became the principal therapist,
and a new team member assumed the vacant spot. The team is well-established
as a viable learning environment for each member.
The work with Kathy continues
to be rugged and understaffed due to insufficient funds. Recently
her allegiance to health suffered a setback with a near-lethal overdose
attempt using her prescribed medications. The team stayed close
by Kathy and her parents during her awakening from a comatose state.
Kathy continues to inspire her team with delightful eccentricity,
humor and sincerity. She may remain with some form of the team for
the rest of her life. Her parents regard the Windhorse team as "a
breath of fresh air" and are now enjoying their "golden
years" together. I remain in contact with them and the team
by phone and letter.
THE DISTINCTIVE FEATURES AND
IMPLICATIONS
The Windhorse program for recovery
is a viable alternative to contemporary care offered in long term
inpatient and residential settings. Each treatment team provides
compassionate in-home care for a person enduring psychosis or its
after-effects, to facilitate his or her recovery of a dignified
and meaningful life.
In practice, the Windhorse program
works with the imbalances in the biological, psychological, social,
and spiritual dimensions of the whole person, as illustrated in
the three clinical vignettes.
- Biological
Dimension: The team utilizes a range of physical
treatments in addition to psychiatric medications. Medicines
are used sparingly, intermittently, and for as long as
is necessary without committing to long-term maintenance
regimes. Care is taken not to cloud the client's awareness
or to excessively blunt the level of arousal in order to
maintain an optimal learning ability. This orientation
is a source of dialogue with each team's attending psychiatrist.
Proper diet and behavior are emphasized, and appropriate
physical therapies are considered, such as acupuncture,
massage, or movement therapy. A schedule patterns healthy
rhythms of daily living. Maintaining a clean and uplifted
household is essential. Care of the body and the environment
that promotes wellness is the ground of recovery and the
context for the proper use of medication.
- Psychological Dimension: Basic
attendance fosters the synchronization of the client's body,
mind, and environment. The forms of basic attendance are individual
psychotherapy, practical or ordinary therapy, specialized group
meetings, and family work, which are all integrated into a
single team for each client. Gentle and disciplined friendships
between staff and client gradually develop, which bridge the
alienation that is usually the result of the psychotic disturbance,
of cultural stigma, and of rigid professional distance. The
client is able to recover hidden psychological resources of
intelligence and courage within him or herself that are essential
in overcoming the fears and self-aggression that shadow any
psychotic episode.
- Social Dimension: Treatment
and recovery are carried out under ordinary life conditions
in individual households in the community. Grouping disturbed
persons together in one place may risk everyone's health, and
reinforce stigma. The team attends to the boundary between
the client and the practical tasks of living and working in
the larger social world. The client is accompanied by the same
therapists through all stages of recovery, eliminating the
stressful transitions that clients experience when they are
abruptly admitted to and discharged from discrete programs
in sequential levels of care. The "revolving door" problem,
such as going in and out of the hospital, is lessened, since
the intensity and cost of the team adapt to the clients
changing condition. Client and family become active collaborators
in the team as a micro-healing community, and the benefits
of involvement are shared among everyone. This intimacy of
mutual caring fosters bonds of human kinship similar to an
extended family or clan.
- Spiritual Dimension: The
Windhorse community does not promote any particular religious
doctrine. It does cultivate a field of dialogue in which
the broad range of staff and client experiences can be safely
expressed and responded to. Clients repeatedly ask their
care givers to listen, without judgement or denigration,
to their cherished spiritual concerns, such as their relationship
to good and evil or to the "divine." Compelling glimpses
of ultimate meaning always occur in some stage of psychotic
disturbance. Similarly, staff may ask to explore the meaning
of true compassion or the relationship between their personal
spiritual practice to clinical work. Many Windhorse staff
and clients have found contemplative disciplines to enhance
self-knowing and to awareness beyond private concerns. Members
of the Windhorse community are attempting to live productively
and creatively together, enlivened by a spirit of learning.
To engage in healing is traditionally a sacred art that attends
simultaneously to the ill person and to other community members,
and reharmonizes the community with the surrounding environment.
This perspective joins social ecology and spirituality together
in a time-honored way (Knudtson and Suzuki, 1992).
The future of mental health care
is increasingly driven by the consumers/survivors of conventional
treatments, which are influence by the medical model of psychosis
as a brain disease best treated with brain medicine. Consumers insist
on being offered humane, whole-person treatment alternatives. The
medical model was once the promising alternative to outdated treatments,
and it is reasonable to assume, since all models have historically
proved to be provisional, that future paradigm shifts are inevitable.
There are already signs of a transformation of Western medicine "from
a narrow biomedical model to a biopsychosocial one" (Barasch,
1992, p. 36).
American mental health care is
now in a crisis of rising costs, inaccessibility to shrinking community
services, and increasing reliance on brief crisis hospitalizations
and psychiatric medications (Dumont, 1992).
In addition, the political and
economic alliances between the psychopharmaceutical industry and
psychiatry are an increasing source of embarrassment to the profession,
and the obvious conflicts of interest left unresolved will intensify
the crisis. One can certainly rely on the occurrence of alternatives
to any established system in a crisis of transition. However, as
with psychosis, whether such outcomes are healing or destructive
depends significantly on our actions now.
REFERENCES
Barasch, D. (1992, October 4). "The
mainstreaming of alternative medicine." New York Times Magazine, Pt
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Bateson, G. (Ed.), (1961). Introduction
to Perceval, J., Percevals narrative: A patients
account of his psychosis. Palo Alto, CA: Stanford University
Press.
Dumont, M. (1992). Treating
the poor: A personal sojourn through the rise and fall of community
mental health. Belmont, MA: Dymphna Press.
Fortuna, J. "Therapeutic households." Journal
of Contemplative Psychotherapy, 4 (1987):49-76.
Fromm-Reichmann, F. (1959). Psychoanalysis
and psychotherapy. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Kabat-Zinn, J. (1990). Full
catastrophe living. New York: Delta Publishing.
Knudtson, P. and Suzuki, D. (1992). Wisdom
of the elders. Toronto: Stoddart Publishing Co.
Podvoll, E. "The history of sanity
in contemplative psychotherapy." Naropa Institute Journal of
Psychology, 2 (1983):11-32.
Podvoll, E. (1990). The seduction
of madness: Revolutionary insights into the world of psychosis
and a compassionate approach to recovery at home. New York:
Harper and Row.
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