My brother recently posted a picture of a T-shirt that read "It's an Oberg thing. You wouldn't understand." This struck me as funny because our last name is not exactly common. It got better when I started reading the comments--all these other people with the last name Oberg who thought they were the only ones was intriguing enough, but my favorite comment was, "Has anyone else spent their life going 'No, it's not Irish, there's no apostrophe?" I loved the whole thread. It taught me an important lesson about group therapy--namely, it can be just as effective as individual therapy.

The Supreme Court ruled 5-4 in Burwell v. Hobby Lobby that an employer does not need to cover contraceptives if it conflicts with a sincerely held religious belief. Some are saying it's a victory for religions liberty, others say it's a startling setback for women. The truth is probably somewhere in the middle. But this is a column about mental illness, and what the recent decision means for mental health consumers. In short, we're in danger.

My apartment complex has become infested with bedbugs and roaches, so the landlord has moved us to a small hotel in northern Indianapolis. The move has been chaotic--some of my neighbors have left altogether, some have been threatened with arrest for panhandling or smoking, and getting to medical appointments relies on a superb knowledge of the bus schedule. Yet I'm holding up well thanks to Alcoholic's Anonymous (AA) and therapy. It is possible to have serenity in the midst of chaos.

Sometimes houses of worship are not the sanctuaries we need them to be. Many people of faith believe that mental illness is a spiritual problem, which hurts everyone involved. More Than Borderline's, Becky Oberg, endured two exorcisms at the hands of a charismatic non-denominational church, eventually leaving when she realized they would not accept her mental illness or her.

Sadly, one of my previous posts can be recycled. I wrote about whether or not people with severe mental illnesses should have firearm rights after the events in Aurora, Colorado (Should People with a Mental Illness Have Firearm Rights). Now there's been another killing spree in which mental illness may have been a factor. I would not be surprised if Elliot Rodger had a diagnosis of borderline personality disorder (BPD)--his difficulty in relationships and inappropriate anger are two symptoms of the disorder. It raises the question, "Is locking up people with borderline the answer?"

I am a firm believer in the healing power of service; I've found it helps with my borderline personality disorder symptoms. In the years that I've done service, I've learned many things--for example, the week I spent in Haiti straight out of high school taught me I didn't know jack about how American foreign policy affects the poor, but I digress. Three lessons I've learned are: you get back what you give, someone always has it worse than you, and helping others brings us closer to our Higher Power.

One of my friends from AA relapsed recently. Her struggle has caused me to learn many things. One is that alcoholism is a progressive, deadly disease that is "cunning, baffling and powerful", and that you must always be on guard because alcohol relapse is easy, no matter how many years sober you have. The second is that you have to have a reason to stay sober, and you have to work at it. The third is that alcoholism relapse can happen to anyone.

I once remarked that 90 percent of the cases on Judge Judy could be avoided by remembering proverbs such as: "If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is." An Arabic proverb says: "Proverbs are the light of speech." Proverbs are important even when it comes to mental health treatment. Here are three sayings that mental health professionals would do well to remember.

A new documentary, "Kidnapped for Christ", was recently released. Although I haven't seen anything other than the promo, the movie made my must-see list. The movie is about a dysfunctional Christian behavioral modification school and the teenagers who were sent there involuntarily. It brought back memories. While my parents thankfully never sent me off to the Dominican Republic because of my psychiatric disorder, I feared that they would. Some kids, including a high school friend of mine, weren't that lucky. I was, however, abused in the name of God, just like these folks were, as a form of mental health treatment.

I just celebrated six months sober. However, I face a new threat--my own indifference. Earlier today, I found myself thinking "Is this it? Sobriety is overrated." It's similar to what people newly on psychiatric medications think--"Do I really need this pill? Do I really need this program?" It's a bullet I have to dodge.