

Success Stories (scroll down for more stories)
Portage Path is filled with the stories of people who have overcome the
burdens of behavioral issues and mental illness to live happier, healthier,
more productive lives. Below are links to the stories of some of these
courageous people.

There was a time when 53 year-old Michael P. would have no problem punching you right in the nose. Now, after years of searching for a way to tame his inner demons, this well-spoken tough guy would rather hit you with a discussion of Emerson’s theories on existentialism or wallop you with the teachings of Confucius. At interview time, he even had an Italian dictionary on his lap.
Michael’s path to inner peace didn’t come easy. Until late in middle school, he was illiterate, misunderstood, and melancholy. The inability to read and write was a weight that Michael carried privately.“I was an auditory learner,” he explains. He survived high school by sneaking into the back of a class for “slow learners”. Paying attention to their class and instructions allowed him to teach himself how to read. “I got by. I still didn’t do well in high school, but I managed,” he says. Many experts agree that not being able to read and function at the level of your peers can severely impact one’s self esteem, and Michael was no exception.
The men in Michael’s family were what some might call “manly men.” As the only boy in a family of six sisters, Michael was often left to his own devices. “My family always thought of me as a survivor, someone who would be OK if you dropped them in a desert somewhere,” he remembers. “With six sisters, preparing them for the world was a priority and they had most of the attention. I was a man, I’d survive.”
Because the focus in his family was on his sisters, Michael’s emotional needs were ignored. Although he doesn’t like to talk about the emotions he had growing up, he says that just beneath the surface is the memory of having chronic depression and not understanding what it was. He’ll tell you that no one understood him, and that he felt different. “No child should suffer mental anguish due to the denial of a close few and the ridicule of a distant many,” he advises.
Michael believes that you can see a pattern of alcoholism and depression through all the men in his family. “You drank because that’s what men did,” he remarks of the pressures the men put on him. “If I didn’t drink, they’d pick on me.”
In his teens, Michael had what many therapists describe as suicidal tendencies, hiding them in what he calls ”adrenaline junkie behavior,” Joining other boys in the neighborhood, Michael was involved in drag racing, skydiving, and bar fights, often crashing cars just to fix them up again.
In 1968, Michael got involved with boxing, even winning a Golden Gloves title. “I was far from professional. I was just a kid then, it wasn’t a big deal,” he says modestly.
“The theme of fighting through Michael’s life is appropriate because even then, he fought for acceptance and attention,” explains Dr. Phil Scozzaro, Michael’s therapist at Portage Path Behavioral Health.
“The main thrust of Michael’s early sessions helped him look at his past behavioral patterns as a way to satisfy basic needs. The intent of the behaviors was sincere and important, but the actual behaviors were self-defeating. That is, the behaviors always led to dysfunction, dejection, and rejection. Michael then was able to focus on new thoughts and behaviors which would allow him to have the same needs satisfied in a safe and productive manner.”
The aftermath of his pugnaciousness - both in and out of the ring - are evident today. “My chin is plastic, and my knuckles are permanently broken from all the fights,” says Michael. “I was always getting into trouble in Ohio when I was young. I ran away to Texas to get away from it all.”
Although still battling mental health and alcohol issues, the move south provided Michael with an outlet for his creative abilities, through a job with Hormel Foods. “I was actually able to develop some pretty useful products,” he says proudly, displaying copies of letters from Hormel and copies of the checks they wrote him for his development. “I was difficult to work with, but they didn’t want to get rid of me because I was making them money.”
While in Texas, he met the woman who would become his wife, a bartender of Korean descent. “When I was married, I was very happy. I didn’t care that I didn’t speak Korean. There were Asians in and out of our house and they were involved in so many exciting things. It’s a fascinating culture and I was excited to be accepted into it.”
His wife fostered his love for the martial arts, especially kendo - a style of Japanese fencing that literally means “way of the sword.” He describes his wife as being extremely feisty, and good at martial arts.
“Once in an argument, I was drunk and being stupid and she was calling me all these names in Korean. She hated my drinking. I didn’t even see it happen, but my tiny wife broke my nose with her foot! She didn’t take any crap from me.” The story is told with a smile and an obvious fondness for a woman who didn’t let him get away with anything.
In September of 1980, just a couple years after he was married, Michael’s life met with tragedy. On her way to bring him lunch, Michael’s wife was in a fatal car accident. To say that he had a difficult time coping would be a serious understatement. “Disbelief initially, I guess that’s common,” he says, remembering how he felt. “After that, it was extreme anger. I had to take her body back to Korea to her family, and emotionally I just felt destroyed.”
Upon hearing that her brother was a widower, Michael’s then 22-year-old sister flew down to live with him and make sure he was OK. The year and a half that she stayed with him held good memories, and he’s quick to show pictures of the two together during happier times.
It wasn’t all fun though, and Michael’s sister says now that he only had two speeds in Texas - slow and isolated or fast and furious.
Michael’s late wife always wanted to open a bar herself. Being a bartender, she knew a lot about the business, and Michael was intimately familiar with being a patron. Shortly after her death, Michael got into the bar business, but perhaps not the kind she had in mind. For the next twenty years, Michael was the manager of several high-end topless bars in the Houston area, eventually leaving Hormel to pursue the business full time.
“The peak of the industry was in the 1980s. Anna Nicole Smith worked at two of the clubs that I managed including the one where she met her famous billionaire husband.”
As he had done with his sisters, Michael made sure no one messed with the women at the strip clubs. “I was like their brother, and as I got older, a father figure. They always came to me with their troubles. I became a confidant. We had a mutual respect,” he recalls.
“My family learned I was a big name in the topless industry from national television. I was on tv with some dancers talking to city council and local politicians. That’s how my family learned what I was up to - managing multi-million dollar strip clubs.”
Despite the beautiful women and seemingly endless cash flow, Michael still wasn’t happy. He missed his wife, had a rocky relationship with his current girlfriend, and he still felt the same emotional conflicts he felt in his youth. “The dancing industry got to be too decadent and arrogant for me,” he explains. “I saw what the drugs and power did to people. I was still a moral man, and I was uncomfortable with the direction the industry was taking.” Twenty years after he worked in his first club, he left the business.
“I just wanted to hide,” Michael says now. “My life was all about making and saving money, so when I felt bad again, I could hole up in my house, isolate myself and just read and be alone, not have to be around anyone.” He had experienced several panic attacks, and despite the glamorous lifestyle he was leading, he still suffered depressive episodes fueled by the grief he felt over the loss of his wife.
When the situation seemed too hard to handle, Michael fled to new territory, just as he had when he left Ohio. He moved to Alaska and went to work for Coca-Cola Bottling Company. Looking back, a state that has 24 hours of darkness at certain times of the year might not have been the best decision for someone suffering from undiagnosed depression. He remembers a significant moment when he began to realize that he needed help.
“I had access to these brush planes and I took one of them out to this place where the the fisherman would leave the waste from the day’s catch. The bears would be there, eating the fish parts,” he recalls of the Alaskan wilderness. “So I’m sitting no more than 15 yards away from these large, wild bears who were very busy eating. I was wearing a bright orange jacket, so you know that they were aware of me. They could have done anything to me at that moment.”
Despite the fact that Michael’s life could have been in danger, he didn’t care. He knows he couldn’t repeat the experience without being scared to death now. “That’s just not normal, sitting among wild bears. I was literally at the top of the world, but at the end of my rope.”
Unable to get a grip on his increasingly dark emotions, Michael headed back to Texas. Eventually, he realized he wasn’t going to get better without the support of his family and headed home to Ohio. “Driving back to Ohio, I often just wanted to lay down and give up,” he recalls. “When you aren’t working, when you aren’t contributing to society, you wonder why you are there. You just want to give up and not be part of life anymore.”
In Ohio, Michael was greeted by a sympathetic family, but they couldn’t understand. “Some of the members of my family are just so old, they don’t understand depression,” he says. “They still love me and accept me, but they think ‘hey, here’s a new car ... now you should be happy,’ and that’s just not how it is.”
Michael had heard about Portage Path Behavioral Health from a friend and decided to give it a try.At first nervous, he was comforted by a team of clinicians who helped him. “They do a great job of pairing you up with the right people here,” he says of the Intake team at Portage Path. “Everyone is so good at their job. I’ve worked at Fortune 500 companies, and neither of them were run as professionally as this place. The people here really have their acts together.”
Portage Path offers a variety of group therapies, and Michael was placed into a depression group. “Group therapy was the first time I had really talked with people with problems like mine,” he remembers. “My weight went up and down all the time, so I shared with the group that I had two sets of clothes - my 175s and my 225s. Another guy jumped up and said ‘Me too!’ He knew just what I was talking about.”
“Group helped him to realize he isn’t alone. Overall, the term that I would use is he’s gained peace of mind,” says Scozzaro.
While Michael has only been a client at Portage Path for a little less than a year, he is relieved to know that his chronic depression can be treated and already feels a lot better. “If I didn’t get help at Portage Path, I’d be one of three places: jail, back with the topless dancers in Houston, or the morgue. Period.”
Michael believes he’ll probably be a client at Portage Path for the rest of his life, but that doesn’t scare him. “Now I know I’ve got a handle on my problem,” he says. While sitting in the lobby one day, he saw a woman with a child. He kept looking at the child and then a thought struck him - “This illness doesn’t just bring something negative into your life, it withholds positives from your life as well,” referring to starting a family and having a woman in his life.
As for relationships, Michael knows he has a long way to go before he’ll be successful again. “I miss the companionship, but I know I have to work on me first. I have to know me and who I am.”
Michael is starting to form plans he never could before, and dreams of traveling. He’s currently learning Italian, and considering his options in his new depression-controlled life. He’s also extremely interested in psychology, an interest that hits close to home. “I hope one day mental illness is looked upon the same way we look at diabetes, or cancer. No more stigma.”
Scozzaro relates that Michael has even discussed nursing with him in his sessions, “He’s thinking about job training now, and he’s got several years of college credits already behind him.” Scozzaro believes that redirected, Michael’s intelligence and strength can lead him to do good things, “I’d rather him be on the side of the good guys. He used to be a dangerous man to cross, but he’s not like that now. He really has insight into his moods and thinks before he acts.”
The former Golden Gloves boxer and nightclub bouncer now fights something else - he fights his illness. Michael’s love affair with Asian culture has continued - he channels his energy into martial arts, which help him with discipline, concentration, and focus, not to mention fostering good health. One of the many ways Michael has re-connected with society is by volunteering his services at local charities. “Now I’m the older wiser one, looking out for the faster young.”
His family has also noticed a difference in him since he began treatment. With a warm smile, he says, “My sister was right. I only had two speeds in Texas, but now I have a neutral and a first gear, thanks to Portage Path.”
MORE SUCCESS STORIES
- The Comeback Kid
- The Highs & Lows of Bipolar Disorder
- A True Survivor
- Akron Man Fights Free From Fear's Grip
- Scars Tell A Tale Of Hope
- Learning To Live With Schizophrenia
- Vietnam Vet Combats His Past
- Terrorist Attacks Bring Back Memories
- A Journey Toward Wellness
- Rediscovering Happiness
- Misfortune Doesn't Weigh Her Down