By Barb Shelly, Kansas City Star Editorial Page columnist

As we arrange to meet, Jennifer Nugent throws out caveats. “Sometimes I talk fast,” she says. And, “I might seem anxious.”

But when we get together at her office at The Whole Person Inc. in midtown Kansas City, Nugent comes across as exactly what she is: a good lawyer prepared to make her case.

For years, she summoned almost superhuman effort to fit into that role. Nugent made it through law school and into a job as counsel for a bank while fighting a serious but undiagnosed mental illness.

In law school, she sometimes studied 24 hours at a stretch, “because I knew there would be a day when I couldn’t get out of bed.”

In the working world, she struggled to preserve her smart, composed persona, while fighting off panic and the shame of not living up to expectations.

Finally the façade fell apart. In 2000, while the world observed the dawn of the new millennium, Nugent simmered inside a psychiatric hospital. But, displaying a talent for organizing that is now part of her story, she cajoled other patients into a celebratory line dance.

After years spent resisting the idea that she might be mentally ill, Nugent now channels her energies into fighting the stigma that comes with that diagnosis.

“How can we make progress on mental health issues if people think we’re all lazy or have moral failings?” she said.

In her job with The Whole Person Inc., which promotes independent living for people with disabilities, Nugent assists clients, coordinates support groups and is organizing an anti-stigma campaign called “Look Beyond the Mask.”

One goal is to convince employers, landlords and others that a diagnosis of mental illness need not stop someone from being productive.

Another goal is persuading clients of the same thing.

“I don’t like to be maudlin, but I’ve been there,” Nugent said. “I’ve been in at least four homeless shelters. I’ve slept in a truck.”

Now 41, Nugent recalls skipping across a bridge on her 8th birthday, knowing that inside their Grandview home, her mother was baking a cake.

That was her last happy memory of childhood. Her adolescence was troubled by erratic sleeping patterns and accelerating conflicts at school and home.

She sought help in college, but fooled counselors with her good grades and composed manner. If someone got too close to the truth — asking about racing thoughts or sleeplessness, for instance — she backed away.

Job failure and her mother’s death precipitated what Nugent calls “a huge breakdown.” She greeted the diagnosis of a bipolar illness with relief and horror.

“I finally knew why I felt the way I did,” she said. “But it was like I had a big ‘M.I.’ for mental illness stamped on my forehead.”

Nugent at least felt reprieved from the pressure of trying to distinguish herself as an attorney. She retreated to northern Arizona to work on a project advocating for native Americans with psychiatric illnesses.
There, she became acquainted with a community of persons who were coping with mental illness.

“There were all these dynamic, strong people and they didn’t feel the way I did,” she said. “They didn’t feel hopeless and ashamed.”

Nugent returned to Kansas City and took a job a year ago at The Whole Person, working on access issues for people with disabilities. Even then, she was hesitant to talk about her mental illness. But a colleague asked her to help out with a support group for persons diagnosed as bipolar.

From there, it was only a matter of time before she began telling her story to the world.

If Nugent speaks rapidly these days, it’s because she has a great deal to say.

Editorial board member Barbara Shelly can be reached at or 816-234-4594.