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Navigating the Space Between Brillance and Madness: A Reader and Roadmap of Bipolar Worlds
This little book emerged from the stories of the many amazing members of The Icarus Project. We assembled the beautiful and jagged pieces of our collective experience, the lessons and the scars, to create an atlas of alternative maps to the particular breed of madness that gets called bipolar, and the ways people are making it through. Traveling through subconscious and waking worlds, from hospital waiting rooms to collective house kitchens, from the desert to the supermarket, these pages chart some of the underground tunnels beneath the mainstream medical model of treatment and the pathologizing language that alienates so many of us. These are maps made up of ideas and stories and examples from many people's lives. Some of these maps will help you to navigate through the existing architecture of the mental health establishment; some of them might help you figure out for yourself where you stand in relation to the larger ecosystem of the earth and the people who inhabit it.We've drawn stories from letters, journals, articles, and the forums of the Icarus Project website to create 80 pages of art, imagination, and mutual aid. Originally published in March, 2004, Navigating the Space is currently in its 5th printing.
First published March 1, 2002
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
June 4, 2010
this book was obviously written by crazy people.
Read
January 10, 2008I don't really feel like it's fair for me to give this a rating since I co-wrote it... but I just thought I'd search to see if it's listed, and hot damn, it is!
February 11, 2017
On a recent trip to New York, I stayed in a hotel by Bluestockings. I was on vacation and let myself buy a few books. This was one of them.
I first heard about The Icarus Project when I was a freshman in college. I had just gotten out of a psych ward after a medication-induced mixed episode that led me to attempting suicide, ended a relationship with a therapist (that I now view as unethical,) and stopped taking medications (out of fear of becoming suicidal again,) without the help of a doctor (I don't recommend this.) I was on Klonopin and luckily I didn't have any withdrawals (benzo withdrawal can be lethal.) I still look back on this time in shock. I knew about drugs (weed/acid/etc, I hung out with dirty hippies,) but I didn't know anyone who took pills. My doctors never told me how addictive or potentially lethal they are. The treatment I received in the hospital from a psychiatrist was brutal; the IOP practitioners were isolating.
I had always been interested in the mental health industry, but it was this time in my life, in addition to radical politics, that made me interested in radical mental health. So when I saw this book I became excited and purchased it. I now come to the book from a more complicated space; I am finishing my degree to become a therapist because I have been there and am dedicated to empowering the mentally ill. Unfortunately, it seems the systems practitioners have to navigate don't really allow this. I am also more familiar with the challenges of being a practitioner, especially after working in a community mental health clinic, where many uninsured/unemployed chronically mentally ill folk show up. I was also reading this with a group I am developing in mind (a reading group where we read essays by people who have mental illness) for clients, as well as my thesis. So reading this was interesting!
Overall, I think this book portrays how complicated having a mental illness diagnosis is in this world. The desire not to enter the mental health system, which often disempowers people by placing them in a "patient role," instead of trusting them as the experts of their own bodies and lives. The suspicion of pharmaceutical companies and doctors who seem ready to provide medication at the drop of the hat, and only become hesitant when someone resists or questions the diagnosis. But, the reality that for many people with disorders, these avenues may be the only ones that can keep them safe (even for a brief while.) How can we navigate this system? Especially if we are not in a place (financial/emotional/physical) to really research and find a clinician who recognizes us as human and not just a disorder. How can many of us keep a fake smile on our face when we head into a psychiatrists' office we hate to get pills? How can we live with ourselves for taking the pills we so resent? While I don't struggle with al of these things (I don't take medication because of my past experiences,) I think they are probably pretty common experiences for people who are functioning/self-aware enough to have them. This book briefly touches on the fact that many find diagnoses comforting, and I have felt that way before, as have some of my clients.
I have two complaints about this book. First, it is a little too tailored to people who live lifestyles filled with connections. It constantly suggests staying connected, checking in with others, and even relying on others when you need care. Unfortunately many mentally ill people are extremely isolated / paranoid / ashamed / etc and this isn't a realistic option for them. Many are surrounded by others with mental illness who may not be capable of taking care of others. Many may be surrounded by people who do not support / do not believe in mental illness and will not get involved. Due to my own life, lives of loved ones, and lives of clients, I found these suggestions a) unrealistic and b) potentially isolating for readers (definitely didn't make me feel great.)
Secondly, this book made me feel a lot of things. I was constantly reflecting as I read, and how my position as both therapist / past therapy client affected my interpretations of the book. It wasn't always easy but these discussions were necessary.
What did effect me was the end of the book where "shamanism" is brought up. The book tries to make the metaphor that bipolar disorder is like shamanism, a potential link to other worlds, that would have been honored in past "primitive" societies. There is a brief note that they have come to understand that "shaman" is appropriation, but that they'll continue to use the word anyway in hopes it will bring up discussions on colonialism (as the authors continue to perpetuate it, ironically), and parallels they think run between ancient shamans and bipolar disorder.
This was disgusting but it didn't shock me. The book is clearly written by people who come from relatively well off backgrounds, who have connected to communities to allow them to choose not to hold full time work. So many essays on how people with bipolar disorder just can't work, it doesn't fit with their perception of the world. If only I were that lucky! Unfortunately this isn't an option for all of us, not all of us feel safe or have access to the white punk models of hitchhiking, taking bike trips, or riding the trails.
The language of "shaman" and continuous use of "primitive" was nice, too. Throughout the book, no works by "primitive" people or traditional Asian healers (Asian medicine is also mentioned,) are used. Nope, just books by white people who literally went to those areas to find out more. As if Western societies could even begin to understand these traditional beliefs, and as if it isn't disrespectful to simplify them enough that they can be summarized in five or six pages, and used as a metaphor for mental illness.
I wasn't having a great day when I read that portion of the book but it really offended me and took away from the rest of the book. Especially when it was followed by a debate on what language should be used for bipolar/mental health in general. How can people respect this debate after the authors explicitly say they know using "shaman" is appropriation but they'll do it anyway? Mental health providers could easily do the same. It made the authors/contributors come off as self-involved.
I would definitely read this book with a grain of salt.
I first heard about The Icarus Project when I was a freshman in college. I had just gotten out of a psych ward after a medication-induced mixed episode that led me to attempting suicide, ended a relationship with a therapist (that I now view as unethical,) and stopped taking medications (out of fear of becoming suicidal again,) without the help of a doctor (I don't recommend this.) I was on Klonopin and luckily I didn't have any withdrawals (benzo withdrawal can be lethal.) I still look back on this time in shock. I knew about drugs (weed/acid/etc, I hung out with dirty hippies,) but I didn't know anyone who took pills. My doctors never told me how addictive or potentially lethal they are. The treatment I received in the hospital from a psychiatrist was brutal; the IOP practitioners were isolating.
I had always been interested in the mental health industry, but it was this time in my life, in addition to radical politics, that made me interested in radical mental health. So when I saw this book I became excited and purchased it. I now come to the book from a more complicated space; I am finishing my degree to become a therapist because I have been there and am dedicated to empowering the mentally ill. Unfortunately, it seems the systems practitioners have to navigate don't really allow this. I am also more familiar with the challenges of being a practitioner, especially after working in a community mental health clinic, where many uninsured/unemployed chronically mentally ill folk show up. I was also reading this with a group I am developing in mind (a reading group where we read essays by people who have mental illness) for clients, as well as my thesis. So reading this was interesting!
Overall, I think this book portrays how complicated having a mental illness diagnosis is in this world. The desire not to enter the mental health system, which often disempowers people by placing them in a "patient role," instead of trusting them as the experts of their own bodies and lives. The suspicion of pharmaceutical companies and doctors who seem ready to provide medication at the drop of the hat, and only become hesitant when someone resists or questions the diagnosis. But, the reality that for many people with disorders, these avenues may be the only ones that can keep them safe (even for a brief while.) How can we navigate this system? Especially if we are not in a place (financial/emotional/physical) to really research and find a clinician who recognizes us as human and not just a disorder. How can many of us keep a fake smile on our face when we head into a psychiatrists' office we hate to get pills? How can we live with ourselves for taking the pills we so resent? While I don't struggle with al of these things (I don't take medication because of my past experiences,) I think they are probably pretty common experiences for people who are functioning/self-aware enough to have them. This book briefly touches on the fact that many find diagnoses comforting, and I have felt that way before, as have some of my clients.
I have two complaints about this book. First, it is a little too tailored to people who live lifestyles filled with connections. It constantly suggests staying connected, checking in with others, and even relying on others when you need care. Unfortunately many mentally ill people are extremely isolated / paranoid / ashamed / etc and this isn't a realistic option for them. Many are surrounded by others with mental illness who may not be capable of taking care of others. Many may be surrounded by people who do not support / do not believe in mental illness and will not get involved. Due to my own life, lives of loved ones, and lives of clients, I found these suggestions a) unrealistic and b) potentially isolating for readers (definitely didn't make me feel great.)
Secondly, this book made me feel a lot of things. I was constantly reflecting as I read, and how my position as both therapist / past therapy client affected my interpretations of the book. It wasn't always easy but these discussions were necessary.
What did effect me was the end of the book where "shamanism" is brought up. The book tries to make the metaphor that bipolar disorder is like shamanism, a potential link to other worlds, that would have been honored in past "primitive" societies. There is a brief note that they have come to understand that "shaman" is appropriation, but that they'll continue to use the word anyway in hopes it will bring up discussions on colonialism (as the authors continue to perpetuate it, ironically), and parallels they think run between ancient shamans and bipolar disorder.
This was disgusting but it didn't shock me. The book is clearly written by people who come from relatively well off backgrounds, who have connected to communities to allow them to choose not to hold full time work. So many essays on how people with bipolar disorder just can't work, it doesn't fit with their perception of the world. If only I were that lucky! Unfortunately this isn't an option for all of us, not all of us feel safe or have access to the white punk models of hitchhiking, taking bike trips, or riding the trails.
The language of "shaman" and continuous use of "primitive" was nice, too. Throughout the book, no works by "primitive" people or traditional Asian healers (Asian medicine is also mentioned,) are used. Nope, just books by white people who literally went to those areas to find out more. As if Western societies could even begin to understand these traditional beliefs, and as if it isn't disrespectful to simplify them enough that they can be summarized in five or six pages, and used as a metaphor for mental illness.
I wasn't having a great day when I read that portion of the book but it really offended me and took away from the rest of the book. Especially when it was followed by a debate on what language should be used for bipolar/mental health in general. How can people respect this debate after the authors explicitly say they know using "shaman" is appropriation but they'll do it anyway? Mental health providers could easily do the same. It made the authors/contributors come off as self-involved.
I would definitely read this book with a grain of salt.
March 27, 2013
revised extended rambling review, 3/27/13
in an anarchist landscape where nowadays it is viciously fashionable to dismiss any sort of traditional positive collective project such as food not bombs or collective housing as not being preparatory enough for some sort of oncoming social war offensive (if yr not in a community like this or don't even know an anarchist, see anarchistnews.org or just roll with my critique) It is intelligently claimed that these projects are too...subcultural or ineffectual, (maybe they rely too much on "identity politics" or "leftism" "charity" or other such boogeymen), when and what anarchists really need is a more serious, potent and (hopefully coming Someday) direction towards the insurrection. in this light, icarus project, in some ways needs to be championed more than ever. because in reality, what a lot of these afformentioned projects due is simply (on yes, a so far pretty small scale) make life under the miserable totality that is capitalism a bit more pleasant and in the case of icarus, will literally help you stay sane(r), a small but meaningful reprieve from living under the gun. in fact, as mental health is being incessantly discussed in "mainstream" society, (who we are supposed to be better than or something), and health and mental wellness are increasingly acknowledged as part of the puzzle in "alternative" sectors of society (who some anarchists also for some reason feel vested in sometimes scoffing at) mental health is nearly always on the backburner of anarchist culture, and probably would've slipped into total oblivion were it not for the valiant efforts of the icarus project. for that, i thank them, both founders and those that continue it.
but...but...but...i must point out that some days, having run an icarus project in st. louis, my continued support for it seems to also have something to do with it being the only game in town. let me explain...icarus was initially written and created by and for folks with bipolar disorder. which is fine, it's good to address that, it's rampant and quite serious. but it also tends to make a claim engaging with the whole mental health apparatus and people with almost any mental illness. thing is, i suffer from schizophrenia, another serious mental illness that is quite different from bipolar (tho also includes hallucinations and altered states definitely). yesterday i was talking with an acquaintance who had just had a manic episode and she described hallucinating rainbows and birds and described her episode as dangerous but strangely intoxicating and an adventure. thus you have the "dangerous gifts" of icarus project. but as a schizophrenic i've never had anything close to an interesting positive hallucination. it's all evil...monsters, twisted threatening faces, threatening voices. thusly, for the last six years i've been thrust into the position as a psychiatric patient on (only one type of) medicine. and ya know what? finally, I feel fucking great. my doctor also prescribes me vitamins and so forth and my symptoms are at a total minimum and my life is very rich. something i could hardly imagine if i wasn't on meds. there i said it. so while i deviate from the icarus party line, it has been a huge growth agent and while i benefit clearly from heavy medication, i do reject still some of the ways schizophrenia is talked about in both the media and mainstream literature on the subject. but then again, i also disagree with the alternative agents who romanticize it and portray it as an existential growth experience such as rd laing and somewhat terrance mckenna.
what am i getting at? yes, i support icarus to a large extent. yet my current medicated happy state also makes me feel a bit in relation to icarus like an insurecto anti-work squatter who finally by a mixture of circumstance and necessity finds a pleasant, rewarding humanitarian job. still feels like the same person, yet a long held belief or opinion is questioned out of a changing life experience. some people have clearly had horrible experiences with a sometimes malicious psychiatric system. i am very radical but not one of those people. i am coming to terms with that.
------------------------------------------
in an anarchist landscape where nowadays it is viciously fashionable to dismiss any sort of traditional positive collective project such as food not bombs or collective housing as not being preparatory enough for some sort of oncoming social war offensive (if yr not in a community like this or don't even know an anarchist, see anarchistnews.org or just roll with my critique) It is intelligently claimed that these projects are too...subcultural or ineffectual, (maybe they rely too much on "identity politics" or "leftism" "charity" or other such boogeymen), when and what anarchists really need is a more serious, potent and (hopefully coming Someday) direction towards the insurrection. in this light, icarus project, in some ways needs to be championed more than ever. because in reality, what a lot of these afformentioned projects due is simply (on yes, a so far pretty small scale) make life under the miserable totality that is capitalism a bit more pleasant and in the case of icarus, will literally help you stay sane(r), a small but meaningful reprieve from living under the gun. in fact, as mental health is being incessantly discussed in "mainstream" society, (who we are supposed to be better than or something), and health and mental wellness are increasingly acknowledged as part of the puzzle in "alternative" sectors of society (who some anarchists also for some reason feel vested in sometimes scoffing at) mental health is nearly always on the backburner of anarchist culture, and probably would've slipped into total oblivion were it not for the valiant efforts of the icarus project. for that, i thank them, both founders and those that continue it.
but...but...but...i must point out that some days, having run an icarus project in st. louis, my continued support for it seems to also have something to do with it being the only game in town. let me explain...icarus was initially written and created by and for folks with bipolar disorder. which is fine, it's good to address that, it's rampant and quite serious. but it also tends to make a claim engaging with the whole mental health apparatus and people with almost any mental illness. thing is, i suffer from schizophrenia, another serious mental illness that is quite different from bipolar (tho also includes hallucinations and altered states definitely). yesterday i was talking with an acquaintance who had just had a manic episode and she described hallucinating rainbows and birds and described her episode as dangerous but strangely intoxicating and an adventure. thus you have the "dangerous gifts" of icarus project. but as a schizophrenic i've never had anything close to an interesting positive hallucination. it's all evil...monsters, twisted threatening faces, threatening voices. thusly, for the last six years i've been thrust into the position as a psychiatric patient on (only one type of) medicine. and ya know what? finally, I feel fucking great. my doctor also prescribes me vitamins and so forth and my symptoms are at a total minimum and my life is very rich. something i could hardly imagine if i wasn't on meds. there i said it. so while i deviate from the icarus party line, it has been a huge growth agent and while i benefit clearly from heavy medication, i do reject still some of the ways schizophrenia is talked about in both the media and mainstream literature on the subject. but then again, i also disagree with the alternative agents who romanticize it and portray it as an existential growth experience such as rd laing and somewhat terrance mckenna.
what am i getting at? yes, i support icarus to a large extent. yet my current medicated happy state also makes me feel a bit in relation to icarus like an insurecto anti-work squatter who finally by a mixture of circumstance and necessity finds a pleasant, rewarding humanitarian job. still feels like the same person, yet a long held belief or opinion is questioned out of a changing life experience. some people have clearly had horrible experiences with a sometimes malicious psychiatric system. i am very radical but not one of those people. i am coming to terms with that.
------------------------------------------
August 4, 2008
So, read the last page "outroduction" piece first, to give you a heads up: this anthology/reader on mental health doesn't take into account environmental effects, abuse history, trauma, race, class, gender, etc. etc. That's a big deal, and can effect how you need to heal yourself.
BUT, aside from being limited in scope by not addressing those things (or calling attention to the role they may be playing in your madness), The Icarus Project does an incredible job giving practical advice and positive philosophy on living with bipolar disorder in a world that is itself totally fucked up. It's written by a bunch of anarcho-punks and traveller kids, people who are considered sick by a world that refuses to bend to make room for their minds, and people who have realized that sometimes its ok to bend yourself to the world if you want to be able to keep living in it. The writing is honest, the struggle is so evident and clear, the thinking behind all of it so fresh, raw yet careful.
Practical advice on eating well; descriptions of living with depression and mania; possibilities for embracing one's madness and learning from it without letting it overwhelm or kill you.
I loved this.
Also, Sascha used to be in Leftover Crack, and that's awesome.
BUT, aside from being limited in scope by not addressing those things (or calling attention to the role they may be playing in your madness), The Icarus Project does an incredible job giving practical advice and positive philosophy on living with bipolar disorder in a world that is itself totally fucked up. It's written by a bunch of anarcho-punks and traveller kids, people who are considered sick by a world that refuses to bend to make room for their minds, and people who have realized that sometimes its ok to bend yourself to the world if you want to be able to keep living in it. The writing is honest, the struggle is so evident and clear, the thinking behind all of it so fresh, raw yet careful.
Practical advice on eating well; descriptions of living with depression and mania; possibilities for embracing one's madness and learning from it without letting it overwhelm or kill you.
I loved this.
Also, Sascha used to be in Leftover Crack, and that's awesome.
February 26, 2011
This book is a must read from anyone who has been diagnosed as bipolar, who identifies with the bipolar neurodiversity, or who interacts with people with the label. It's an amazing anthology of people, many of radical backgrounds, experiencing, questioning, living with, accepting, etc the bipolar situations they find themselves in. It does no take a hardline stance on medication, diagnosis, illness, or transcendence. It's just awesome.
January 8, 2008
the bi-polar's must have
September 10, 2016
a lot of really amazing stuff in there. In the digital version there are some parts where the writing is a bit distorted and hard to read.
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