Michelle Sherman ’92 walks alongside families through some of life’s hardest moments. In addition to her work as a clinical psychologist and a fellow of the American Psychological Association, she’s co-authored — with her mother, DeAnne Sherman — several books for families navigating mental illness. Their latest, Loving Someone with a Mental Illness or History of Trauma, was published in January by Johns Hopkins University Press. In it, the Shermans weave science and storytelling to support those who are ill and the loved ones who care for them.
What are some misconceptions about the role of family and friends in healing and recovery?
Sadly, what often happens is the focus goes entirely on the person with the illness — getting them doctor appointments, dealing with insurance, helping them to take their medications. Meanwhile, the other family members’ needs and experiences are overlooked as they may have to take another job, maybe worry about paying the bills, maybe try to get the kids taken care of and these sorts of things.
If you think about it, if your neighbor was hospitalized for a physical illness, what do people in the community do? They bring flowers, they set up a GoFundMe, they bring meals, et cetera. What if your next-door neighbor’s adult son tried to die by suicide? What do the family members and friends do? Sometimes nothing. Sometimes they say really tacky or unpleasant things. These family members often feel so alone, so confused, so sad and invisible.
Of course, it’s helpful to know how to advocate and support and help your loved one, how to navigate the healthcare system, communication tips, all this sort of stuff. But we also write that it’s equally important for you to find ways to take good care of yourself, because if you don’t do that, you can’t show up for them.
How can we talk to a family member with a mental illness without triggering defensiveness or shame?
That’s a huge challenge. The most impactful thing you can do is to focus on your relationship. Because nagging, doing an intervention, yelling, screaming, crying — those things generally don’t work very well, and you may create more of a wall.
Oftentimes, they may do things that push people away, but it’s staying there for them while not accepting abuse — but showing that you’re going to be there through the ups and downs. And sometimes the person with the illness may end up asking for help, not because they think they have an illness, but because you love them, and they trust you. That’s better leverage than pushing, persuading or threatening.
How does the book blend science and storytelling?
As a researcher and as a scientist, it’s easy for me to write long paragraphs and citations, but that’s not what the public wants. My mom is a teacher, and she helped me put things in a way people could hear. So we would take some of the facts and summarize them, and make sure they were in small chunks. If you look at the book, there aren’t any pages that don’t have either pictures or stories or activities. Our target readers are adults who often already feel pretty overwhelmed.
Where did this start for you?
My trauma work began back when I was a college student at Notre Dame. There was a program called Sex Offense Services (SOS) in a large mental health clinic in town, and I volunteered with them. I went through lots of formal training, and I’d go to the hospital whenever someone in the community came in who had been sexually abused and sit with the person while they had their investigation and their physical examination.
Then, with the support of SOS, I started a support group on campus for people who had experienced some sort of sexual trauma. We held it at the Center for Social Concerns.
Now I specialize in trauma and supporting family members whose loved one has a mental illness or PTSD, and it all goes back to Notre Dame.
What do you hope readers will gain?
It’s very understandable that loving someone with a mental illness or history of trauma can be really hard and that there can be a lot of emotions: exhaustion, sadness, anger, fear, confusion and powerlessness. Setting up the relationship in a way in which you’re getting your needs met is critical, because otherwise you’re going to be resentful. You’re going to be burned out, you’re going to be angry. But you have every right to want to be seen, to be loved. If your loved one cannot give that to you for whatever reason, it’s important to find it elsewhere: in pets, nature, friends, God.
You’re not doing your loved one any good by making your life small. You have got to keep moving forward and allowing yourself to have your own life, your own journey, as you’re staying present and working to be a good friend. That’s not always easy. But hold on to hope and hold on to your own sense of self, and take good care of yourself while you continue to support them.
Interview by Michelle Cuneo, an associate editor of this magazine. The interview has been edited for length and clarity.