On Falling Apart September 24, 2012 Jill You should definitely read this essay about being involuntarily committed and diagnosed with a mental illness. It is actually significantly more uplifting than that makes it sound.
Jill, on behalf of all the people I’ve interacted with and worked for over the years, THANK YOU for posting this. It’s a well-written insight as to what people often go through when they can’t see how bad their mental health condition has gotten. For years, my job was running the field response team for a major city, evaluating people just like this. We had to decide based on the information we received from family/friends and an on-the-spot evaluation whether to hospitalize someone or not. Many times it was difficult because it was clear the person was deep in the throes of psychosis and didn’t understand why we had to send them to a psychiatric hospital. The tears, anger, pleading and genuine confusion were painful to witness, even after years of doing this. It was important to focus on the idea that if we, the professionals, were feeling this way, how much more painful must it be for the person and their family. It helped us remain present and sensitive. Sometimes, we would get calls from the person or their family thanking us for what we did and letting us know the person got the help they needed. This can be such a frightening process for anyone who doesn’t understand the psychiatric system, but so very very helpful and necessary when someone needs it.
Excellent repost. This should enable more people to respond appropriately to mental illness before allowing someone’s state to deteriorate to the point of suicide or long-term damage from self-neglect.
That’s a great fucking article. Also, this: If “crazy” could be used to write off a woman who’s upset even when she has no history of illness, it could definitely be used to write off a woman who’d spent two days in the hospital. But I still use it myself, and here’s why: if you’re rowdy and funny at a party, you’re so “crazy.” If someone is nasty and passive-aggressive, that drives you “crazy.” If you go over to that person’s house and place a bag of flaming dog poop on their doorstep, you’re acting “crazy.” (Also, don’t.) But if you have to go to the hospital because people think you might die, then you’re ill. Ill people are not to be dismissed, mocked, or insulted by being called crazy, THAT is an insensitive misuse of the word. And anyone who makes fun of someone for being ill is an asshole, and what assholes think fundamentally does not matter. That’s why you’re reading a magazine called Rookie, and not WhatSomeAssholesThink.com. Is pretty much how I’ve always felt – because the word “crazy” really does mean a lot of different things in the English language. I mostly associate “crazy” with good stuff. And when my aunt killed herself, hearing a friend refer to what she did as “crazy” – I had to immediately question that. She had been a fun, beautiful woman, who could indeed be crazy and adventurous in her youth. She took her life because she got sick and had her loved ones turn their backs on her. She saw no other way out. Nothing crazy about that, at the end of the day…
I love that this is in a teen publication. Rookie is the bestest! What Sady describes is not really that much like my experience, given I’m bipolar 1 and was, ahem, suddenly hearing voices- a very abrupt shift. I’m totally with her, however, on the experience of trying to pick up the pieces after a diagnosis. Our level of stigma in the US makes it SO much harder. And that’s precisely why I love so much that Sady has been so candid and Rookie has given her a platform. Feminist websites have had a huge impact on my willingness to be candid in my 3D life. I don’t think I’d be able to be nearly as comfortable if I hadn’t been given safe venues to learn about and discuss experiences with mental illness first. I can’t overstate how valuable that’s been- thank you, Sady, and thank you, Jill.
Sady brought up an excellent point about the automatic association of her family and friends between strong feelings and her illness. Having depression, I’ve faced that with my friends and family; feeling like my emotions were being downgraded by others as just part of the depression. I think every woman faces this at some point when accused of “PMSing.” But her essay also really helped me to start rethinking that what I assumed was a dismissal is probably more just concern. She is completely right that dealing with a mental health diagnosis is a life-long journey.
With bipolar disorder, one does have to regiment one’s life closely for the sake of health. And as the author describes, one has to closely monitor one’s emotional state for clues to a major episode. To this day, I’m always a little suspicious when I’m in an extended good mood, because I fear I could be building towards mania. But it could be much worse. The medications aren’t perfect, but they do exist. Sometimes drugs like Lithium cause side effects, but they also build neural connections and pathways. People with mental illness don’t have enough of these. I’m actually pretty lucky. Had I lived sixty years ago, I would have been committed to an institution for my whole life and potentially lobotomized. Though the brain is a complex organ, with time we’ve begun to figure out many of its riddles. What would be the point of me being defeatist and negative about my disability? Regardless of what I think about my illness, it’s present and it’s a daily challenge. But these are the genetic hand I was dealt and being upset about it is wasted energy.
However, there’s a grieving process to go through when you get a diagnosis like that. That’s great that you feel upbeat about your diagnosis, but calling it “wasted energy” is a bit harsh. It might not have been your intention to come across as generalizing your experience to everyone, but it seems a bit “Just pull yourself up by your bootstraps and smile!”. Getting a mental health diagnosis means that you (general you) realize that you’re different from others, that you’re not going to have the so-called normal life. And for me, that meant going through the grieving steps, realizing that I was losing something (the chance at a “normal” life). Thankfully I’ve also realized that I’ve gained something, and it’s not all that jazz to be neurotypical, but there are still times when I wish things weren’t as they were. I wouldn’t call that wasted energy.
Well, I think there are so many ways for human beings to suffer that it would be narcissistic of me to assume that my hand is any worse than anyone else’s. I don’t necessarily feel that way on a bad day, but, on a good day, I do. I also think that one huge benefit is that I care much less about the petty shit that is so distracting and unhealthy. I don’t care about the faults of people I love the way that I used to, because I know that their love has saved my life and continues to. I’m not consumed by hate or anger or many of the mundane toxins of people’s lives. I think there’s a way that I’m cleansed by my pain, and while I didn’t ask for it, I refuse to see my glass as half empty. It’s just a glass with some water in it, as far as I’m concerned. Probably not everyone with mental illness feels that way, but I have to cling to what works for me.
You’re spot-on (for me, at least) about the suspicion that now comes with extended good moods. I sometimes wonder what it must be like to not worry about being too happy, too energetic. And the converse: is this just a run-of-the-mill malaise, or am I spiraling into depression?
Hi, the first six years of my life was lived on the level of low functioning autism, a near drowning at age six creates more problems. A psychologist diagnoses my mental state as mentally retarded. In 2004, a clinical psychologist with 28 years working people traumatized by severe head injuries and working to find a cure for autism told me, I can see as a child your brain was retarded. He couldn’t explain how I made so much success. In2008, I started hearing voices, in the past it has always been images. So, I decided to seek help for it. I found a great psychologist who after many months said. I don’t know how you did it. but, you have been able to rewire your brain. There are a number of things a person does with their mind and they are not aware of the consequences that follow those thoughts. About the brain. Take a walk around the block and it takes 15 minutes. Now sit down, close your eyes and remember the walk from start to finish. You should come out with about the same amount of time. Here is the interesting part. Your brain will believe you physically walked it twice. You brain without the mind can’t tell right from wrong, good from hot, or cold from sweet, your mind has to do that. So, every time you think about something, you are sending a message to the brain. The brain will believe this is what you want to do. Your brain will continue to send you impulses based on what you think about. You like everybody, except me, live each day based on likes and dislikes, resulting in a daily activity of repetitious habits. Its a cycle by which you wake to doing the same things as the day before. Doing something physically or with your mind can cause the brain to produce the same chemicals. Too much of the same thoughts and activities will result in a chemical imbalance. Like taking a pill, slowly the pill will result in an over-load of production in chemicals in the brain. The key to over-coming any mental state is to control the chemicals in the brain. I call it “The Five Sense therapy” You must from the time waking up to the time going to bed be exploring new things with your five senses. This will break the cycle and will awaken the oldest functions of the brain. You can find many helpful comments on my twitter account @rustycovey This is just a tip of the Ice Burg.
I really tried to read it, but as someone with Bipolar 2 with psychotic features (currently in remission – yay!), it was too difficult. My various hospitalizations are still very hard for me to think about (especially the one that took me through the joys of underfunded big-city public mental health). That said, I’m glad it’s getting a lot of positive attention, and I think a lot of progress has been made in how the mentally ill and neurodiverse are perceived. The more open and honest we are, the better, I think.