Jib
Member
- Joined
- Mar 20, 2013
- Messages
- 591
http://raypeat.com/articles/articles/th ... ties.shtml
^ I love that article. That and the "Rat Park" experiment on drug addiction (whether it's a written analysis of it on any number of sites, or the comic drawn about it by Stuart McMillen) are two of my favorite things to refer people to. Anyway, on with the rant:
Sitting here by myself brooding about the herd mentality when it comes to mental (physical) illness. So much respect and trust for all these doctors instead of a respect for actual science and the human beings that are suffering from these problems. Looking at people as organisms isolated from their environment, or frozen in time at the current moment of diagnosis, like they're a picture taken of a culture in a petri dish.
People's behaviors are both a result and a cause of their environment. It's incredibly complex. That is an incredibly complex phenomenon to observe. And yet people pin it down as if it could be explained in a paragraph. There are so many variables and it irritates me so much when people say things that imply those variables don't exist. "You're depressed. Your brain has a chemical imbalance and you need this medication to correct it."
Even if a medication could help, it isn't that simple. I think that's completely disrespectful of the complexity of life. Even following a lot of Peat's ideas, I never hold them as an ultimatum. I would never ignore someone's thoughts and feelings and tell them they just need some more sugar and some aspirin (I don't think anyone here would do that either -- just making a point). What I mean is simply this: that the *real* ultimatum is the open-mindedness to new information while remembering that life is complex, and the need for science to keep evaluating and re-evaluating stagnant ideas that new evidence challenges. And to treat human beings with respect as the complex individuals that they are instead of something that can be summarized in a lab report.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
And now the more personal rant:
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I was born C-section somewhere around a month premature with Horner's Syndrome, scoliosis, one kidney, thumb hypoplasia, and not breathing with the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck, and had to spend the first part of my life in an incubator. Grew up in a dysfunctional family, ended up in therapy and on medication starting around 12 years old, was on Zyprexa, Buspar and Lexapro for years, during which time I regularly engaged in cutting myself and suffered from chronic suicidal thoughts, severe and rapid mood swings, severe depression, severe anxiety and insomnia that none of the medications seemed to help with. My last episode was in 2010, when I was committed to a mental hospital for the second time in 5 years. I had a nervous breakdown around that time.
After nearly a day in the E.R., I was taken to the mental hospital and seated at a table with three doctors, all women. I explained everything that had happened* and poured my heart out thinking that they'd be receptive to at least something I was saying. I kid you not, there was complete silence. And then one of them just said, "We think you need medication."
When I was offered medication at the mental hospital like it was Halloween candy, I refused. I had to talk to a doctor to explain why I didn't want to take some antipsychotic medication that I had no prescription for, especially since I had done absolutely nothing to warrant taking it. I ended up not having to take it but at least once out of sheer frustration and just giving up I took some pills they gave me that they didn't tell me the names of.
When I asked the psychiatrist at outpatient what the medication she wanted to give me did, she said it would help me think more clearly. I asked why she thought I needed to think more clearly, and then I asked what the medication did on a physiological level. She looked at me sternly and just said, "I'm an MD."
I repeatedly said that I didn't want to take medication and that I wanted to do talk-based therapy, because I had problems expressing my feelings and communicating them to other people face-to-face. They never respected that request and I never got it. Just pushing me to take medication that I kept refusing to take. Earlier on when I did take what they wanted to give me, it didn't help, and they ran out of options and the 'therapy' never went anywhere or accomplished a single thing.
*The circumstances of my being there were that I'd sent an e-mail to someone that made them think I might be suicidal, so they called for a wellness check. The police came into my house while I was lying on the floor sleeping in my boxers at 3:30 AM, shined flashlights at me, made me get up and show them my e-mail. I couldn't find the e-mail I'd sent, and ended up showing them an e-mail in my 'sent' folder that was -- get this -- the e-mail I'd *originally* written to this person, but *didn't* send to them, because I decided it was a repeat of the same mistake I'd made the last time I was hospitalized when I was 15.
I'd sent a similar e-mail to my high school teacher when I was 15, and that was the reason for my first hospitalization. I remember writing to her, "I wish I was dead, but I don't want to die." I didn't know how else to reach out for help or communicate needs -- I still don't know how to communicate needs, or even identify what needs I have, if any, that involve other people emotionally. Anyway, pouring my heart out meant explaining all that to them, and I even went so far as to say that what I realized I needed was to go home and ask my friend for a hug. I never learned how to ask for that. That's the last thing I said before they told me, "We think you need medication," and that and my subsequent stay in the mental hospital kind of killed my ambition. I never did end up asking for a hug, and it's going on four years later now.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
To conclude
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Common sense. A respect for the complexity of life, which includes human beings. Promoting holistic, open-minded thinking that questions conventional thinking and against-the-grain thinking without discrimination.
I'm posting here because I don't know what else to do. Sometimes, like probably everyone, I want to save the world. Then I step back and look at myself and I feel so small and insignificant. It's a push-pull between believing something is right and true but then, upon realizing how hard it would be to implement those ideas into practical reality, feeling discouraged. Then you question whether your idea of a better world really has any merit to it at all, and if it the best you can hope for is to save your own self.
*sigh*
Okay, I'm done for now. Is that enough ranting and raving for you? :p I think I need to go to bed now >__<
^ I love that article. That and the "Rat Park" experiment on drug addiction (whether it's a written analysis of it on any number of sites, or the comic drawn about it by Stuart McMillen) are two of my favorite things to refer people to. Anyway, on with the rant:
Sitting here by myself brooding about the herd mentality when it comes to mental (physical) illness. So much respect and trust for all these doctors instead of a respect for actual science and the human beings that are suffering from these problems. Looking at people as organisms isolated from their environment, or frozen in time at the current moment of diagnosis, like they're a picture taken of a culture in a petri dish.
People's behaviors are both a result and a cause of their environment. It's incredibly complex. That is an incredibly complex phenomenon to observe. And yet people pin it down as if it could be explained in a paragraph. There are so many variables and it irritates me so much when people say things that imply those variables don't exist. "You're depressed. Your brain has a chemical imbalance and you need this medication to correct it."
Even if a medication could help, it isn't that simple. I think that's completely disrespectful of the complexity of life. Even following a lot of Peat's ideas, I never hold them as an ultimatum. I would never ignore someone's thoughts and feelings and tell them they just need some more sugar and some aspirin (I don't think anyone here would do that either -- just making a point). What I mean is simply this: that the *real* ultimatum is the open-mindedness to new information while remembering that life is complex, and the need for science to keep evaluating and re-evaluating stagnant ideas that new evidence challenges. And to treat human beings with respect as the complex individuals that they are instead of something that can be summarized in a lab report.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
And now the more personal rant:
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I was born C-section somewhere around a month premature with Horner's Syndrome, scoliosis, one kidney, thumb hypoplasia, and not breathing with the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck, and had to spend the first part of my life in an incubator. Grew up in a dysfunctional family, ended up in therapy and on medication starting around 12 years old, was on Zyprexa, Buspar and Lexapro for years, during which time I regularly engaged in cutting myself and suffered from chronic suicidal thoughts, severe and rapid mood swings, severe depression, severe anxiety and insomnia that none of the medications seemed to help with. My last episode was in 2010, when I was committed to a mental hospital for the second time in 5 years. I had a nervous breakdown around that time.
After nearly a day in the E.R., I was taken to the mental hospital and seated at a table with three doctors, all women. I explained everything that had happened* and poured my heart out thinking that they'd be receptive to at least something I was saying. I kid you not, there was complete silence. And then one of them just said, "We think you need medication."
When I was offered medication at the mental hospital like it was Halloween candy, I refused. I had to talk to a doctor to explain why I didn't want to take some antipsychotic medication that I had no prescription for, especially since I had done absolutely nothing to warrant taking it. I ended up not having to take it but at least once out of sheer frustration and just giving up I took some pills they gave me that they didn't tell me the names of.
When I asked the psychiatrist at outpatient what the medication she wanted to give me did, she said it would help me think more clearly. I asked why she thought I needed to think more clearly, and then I asked what the medication did on a physiological level. She looked at me sternly and just said, "I'm an MD."
I repeatedly said that I didn't want to take medication and that I wanted to do talk-based therapy, because I had problems expressing my feelings and communicating them to other people face-to-face. They never respected that request and I never got it. Just pushing me to take medication that I kept refusing to take. Earlier on when I did take what they wanted to give me, it didn't help, and they ran out of options and the 'therapy' never went anywhere or accomplished a single thing.
*The circumstances of my being there were that I'd sent an e-mail to someone that made them think I might be suicidal, so they called for a wellness check. The police came into my house while I was lying on the floor sleeping in my boxers at 3:30 AM, shined flashlights at me, made me get up and show them my e-mail. I couldn't find the e-mail I'd sent, and ended up showing them an e-mail in my 'sent' folder that was -- get this -- the e-mail I'd *originally* written to this person, but *didn't* send to them, because I decided it was a repeat of the same mistake I'd made the last time I was hospitalized when I was 15.
I'd sent a similar e-mail to my high school teacher when I was 15, and that was the reason for my first hospitalization. I remember writing to her, "I wish I was dead, but I don't want to die." I didn't know how else to reach out for help or communicate needs -- I still don't know how to communicate needs, or even identify what needs I have, if any, that involve other people emotionally. Anyway, pouring my heart out meant explaining all that to them, and I even went so far as to say that what I realized I needed was to go home and ask my friend for a hug. I never learned how to ask for that. That's the last thing I said before they told me, "We think you need medication," and that and my subsequent stay in the mental hospital kind of killed my ambition. I never did end up asking for a hug, and it's going on four years later now.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
To conclude
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Common sense. A respect for the complexity of life, which includes human beings. Promoting holistic, open-minded thinking that questions conventional thinking and against-the-grain thinking without discrimination.
I'm posting here because I don't know what else to do. Sometimes, like probably everyone, I want to save the world. Then I step back and look at myself and I feel so small and insignificant. It's a push-pull between believing something is right and true but then, upon realizing how hard it would be to implement those ideas into practical reality, feeling discouraged. Then you question whether your idea of a better world really has any merit to it at all, and if it the best you can hope for is to save your own self.
*sigh*
Okay, I'm done for now. Is that enough ranting and raving for you? :p I think I need to go to bed now >__<
