The term ‘mental illness’?
I read an online article this evening on The Age- Psychologists warn on term mentally ill. According to certain opinions in this article, depression and anxiety shouldn’t be referred to as a ‘mental illness.’ Why? “…because it labels them as potentially ”dangerous, crazy and violent”, a group of psychologists has claimed.” (The Age, 2012). Fair point. Just a couple of weeks ago I was watching the TV series Revenge. It was the episode in which Tyler, a conniving, manipulative and scheming character, lost control and smashed things around the house, tied someone to a chair and stabbed him with a knife, then threatened someone with a gun. Which would be fine and does make for an intriguing show. Except, the reason for his behaviour is that he stopped taking his antipsychotic medication to control his mental illness, and is on the run from a psychiatric hospital. Way to perpetuate the stigma of mental illness.
But back to the article. Apparently the term ‘mental illness’ is okay though for people who have bipolar disorder or schizophrenia. As it states in the second paragraph, “The Australian College of Specialist Psychologists believes the term ”mental illness” can put people off seeking treatment and it should only be used for psychiatric conditions such as schizophrenia and bipolar disorder.” (The Age, 2012). And that’s what irritates me. So according to them it’s okay to attach stigma and labels to schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, never mind they’re already the ones who cop the brunt of it when it comes to stupid misconceptions like ‘dangerous’ and ‘violent’.
Personally I don’t have that much of an issue with depression and anxiety being called mental illnesses. I prefer to use the term ‘mental health issue’ instead, but I don’t really see a problem with calling it a mental illness when that’s what it is- an illness to do with mental health, rather than physical health.
What do other people think? Do you dislike the term ‘mental illness’?
Psychologist not the right one
I did give it a go. I mean, this was my third time meeting with this psychologist, though the first in terms of seeing him on his own. But I think it’s enough to determine whether I feel I can work with him or not. Unfortunately I just don’t feel I can.
I already had my reservations from that first time when I felt misunderstood and pushed into treatment I wasn’t keen on. And today I think he pushed too hard too soon for me to talk, given it’s our first actual session together. If you’re going to ask me to talk to you straight off about the reasons around my OD which I feel quite embarrassed and ashamed about, no I’m not going to do so. It takes time for me to open up and whomever I’m seeing, I need them to understand that.
He was also rather blunt. Yes, I know sugar coating everything and treading too lightly isn’t going to be the most helpful. But a bit of sensitivity wouldn’t go astray either.
About halfway through the session I could feel myself reacting by putting a barrier up and becoming oppositional. My responses were more abrupt. My attitude became one of indifference. I again grew resistant to the idea of therapy and change. Within this mode I stubbornly told him that I don’t want help and that I’m fine with how things are. That it’d be a waste of time coming back and he’d be better off seeing someone who actually wants the help and is ready to change. When asked whether I would come back for another session I said ‘no’. He told me he’d send a letter to my GP and I’ll discharged back to her.
How do I feel about that? Rather sick with anxiety really. I’m aware I’m choosing to throw away this opportunity for free psychological therapy that’s not limited by a certain number of allowable sessions. I know I’m lucky in that many people don’t get this kind of help. Just last week in the courtyard at A St I was reminded of this, listening to a woman sobbing to a nurse that she needed to see a psychologist but was still on a waitlist. But at the same time, I don’t see much good in seeing someone I don’t feel at ease with and cannot open up to. In a medical setting it wouldn’t matter so much, but within the context of mental health being comfortable with the person you’re seeing is important. Within the public system you don’t have to pay and the number of sessions is based on need, but you’re stuck with who they give you. In the private system, the advantage is that you get to choose who you see, but it’s costly and limited to ten sessions per year.
Don’t really know where to from here. I guess I’ll just have t see how things pan out.
Stepping back from being unwell
I like periods of wellness. It’s….nice. It’s nice not to be plotting my own demise at every spare moment, it’s nice not to be curled up in a ball crying because I just can’t cope, it’s nice when there are things and activities I want to participate in and it’s nice when misery is not all that’s crowding my mind. It’s easier to want to be well when things are already pretty okay. It’s then not so hard to imagine what it may be like. In contrast, when things aren’t so great, it’s hard to see a way out, and harder to let go of mental illness. It starts to feel like a part of who you are, a part of who you always will be.
I feel less of a need to blog when I’m not consumed by sadness and also less of a need to read other people’s blogs. The opposite is true when I’m not so well. I feel drawn to reading about mental health issues, desperate to know I’m not alone. While it does serve that purpose, I suspect it can also become a perpetuating cycle where it isn’t exactly doing my mood any favours. And even when I am quite well, it can still be a danger.
Needing to prove how awful I feel is something I struggle with, and wanting to compete for who’s the sickest is something I feel compelled to do. It can then become quite triggering for me when I read or hear about how unwell someone is. When someone is in hospital. When someone’s attempted suicide. When someone’s lost X amount of weight and now has a BMI of an average 12 year old. When someone has friends, family, partners, relatives, professionals all worried about them. When someone’s self harmed to the point of needing stitches. I found out through Facebook my room mate when I was inpatient at H Clinic almost exactly a year ago is currently back in hospital for her eating disorder. And even though I really don’t like H Clinic, it’s still somewhat triggering to read about it all on Facebook.
Knowing this, sometimes it can be good to take a step back from it all. Participate in other aspects of my life- aspects which don’t involve being sick with mental health issues.
Can’t cope with my emotions
I don’t know how to cope with my emotions. Okay, if we’re being real here, I guess I never have known. I never had the chance to learn how to deal with unpleasant emotions in what may be classed as an ‘emotionally healthy’ way. As a child, if I slammed the door or punched the pillow in anger, my father would react with more anger and forbid me to do so. If I was upset and in tears, it’d also be met with irritation from my father and he’d yell at me to stop. Growing up, there was no sympathy nor comfort in times of hurt and sadness.
During my most recent hospital admission, my parents came to visit. My mother questioned me on what OT activities are available during the day to which my father then asked what OT is. I suppose I gave him a bit of a look. I’ve only been studying OT for the past over a year. But ya know, whatever. He then got angry at me for “looking at him like he’s dumb” and I in turn got upset at being attacked and started crying. He then accused me of being ”too sensitive,” “mentally weak” and asked “How do you expect to be an OT and deal with patients when you get upset so easily when people are angry at you?!” This is just the most recent example of what I’ve grown up learning- that my emotions aren’t valid and I’m not allowed to be feeling what I’m feeling.
So I try my hardest to quash my feelings, ignore my emotions, cut, eat, purge them away. There’s only so much a person can try to bury before it overflows though. Given recent events, now more than anything, they feel uncontrollable, unmanageable, and I just don’t know what to do. Feelings of being backed into a corner with the psychiatrist I saw, feelings of abandonment in having to cease therapy with D, feelings of isolation in not having anyone to confide in, feelings of hopelessness when it seems as though nothing’s ever going to get better, feelings of rejection and hurt when suddenly discharged from hospital, feelings of apprehension in starting therapy with someone new all over again, feelings of inadequacy and stress when attempting to complete uni work, feelings of alienation, being judged and misunderstood when reading comments I’ve received on my blog, feeling unheard when it seems as though nobody cares, feelings of loneliness in not having friends to hang out with, feelings of desperation when I think about this life I’m stuck with… Which has resulted in me reacting by rejecting services, pushing people away, overdosing, angrily venting on my blog and resolving to make my own decisions in regards to wanting to die. And while I acknowledge it’s difficult for people to understand instead of being condemning, and it hurts that so many have proved that they can’t, I so badly wish they did. I just don’t know any other way, I’m desperate, I don’t know how else to cope, and I want these feelings gone.
Met K
I met with K, the replacement psychologist for I, this afternoon. She acknowledged that yes, she is temporary while the psychologist I am meant to be seeing is away, so I may not want to go into the deep stuff when I won’t have the opportunity to get to trust her and see her for a longer period of time. And so we talked about general and some rather light hearted stuff. Stuff which included my cultural background, what I do when I’m not studying, where I did my prac placements, countries I’ve visited and would like to visit, and my cute little Maltese-shihtzu puppy. She also explained that when people are discharged from hospital they usually offer a psychiatrist appointment as follow up. “Psychiatrists can have some helpful things,” she said, which I struggled not to laugh at, but was told that ultimately it’s my choice whether I go or not. I see her again in a fortnight.
Later on in the afternoon I called to cancel the psychiatrist appointment meant for next Wednesday. “What’s the reason for cancelling?” I was asked by the receptionist. “Ummm….” I stalled, not expecting to have been asked. “Just so I can put it in the computer,” I was told. “Umm…I just don’t need to see him,” I answered. It’s not the principle of seeing a psychiatrist I object to, it’s that I’ve met him once and felt uncomfortable and he’s not someone I’m able to talk to. There have been a couple of psychiatrists I’ve found okay and would more willingly attend an appointment with. Unfortunately he isn’t one of them. While I was at A St to see K today, I saw that my psychiatrist whilst I was in hospital in October/November last year is now one of the outpatient psychiatrists at A St. See he was okay, why couldn’t I have been allocated to him? Instead I get allocated to the one I don’t feel comfortable with. Sigh.
Dr L provided me with new scripts today and typed up a letter, instructing me to hand it to the pharmacist. The contents of the letter basically asked the pharmacist to only dispense my medications weekly. That’s a big assumption to make, that I’d willingly hand over the letter to the pharmacist myself. Was very tempted to just not do so- how would Dr L know? In the end I did. I’d like to say it was my integrity and honesty, but really, it’s just me being afraid of the consequences I may have to face if I don’t and I’m found out. “It’s a good excuse to go shopping!” remarked Dr L of the weekly trips I will now have to make to this shopping centre. Except hey, I don’t have spare money to spend on frivolous things after spending $123 on Pristiq and Seroquel today. Yay!
Tomorrow I’m meeting up with M for lunch whom I first met when we were both inpatient in Oct/Nov. A social meet up with a friend? Well that’s something new. According to my diary records, it’s only been since February that I haven’t met up with friends. It feels a lot longer than that though 
My life, my choice
My life is my choice. As people have pointed out, I can choose not to engage in treatment. I can be assertive and say no- something I tend to forget, coming from an Asian background where authority figures are respected and the professional knows best. I can choose to fall again and again, or I can choose to do something about it. In the end it’s my life. It’s my responsibility. It’s my choice. What if I’ve thought it through and this is the decision I come to at the end? What if I’m determined? Fail and survive? Fine, try again. There’s only so much my body can take, surely? Does someone choosing to take control of their life make people feel uncomfortable? Does it go against your ethical morals? If so, you don’t have to watch. I don’t want intervention- the last thing I want is for people to read this and feel like they have to do something. You don’t. Really, please don’t. I’m not mentally ill, I’ve thought it through and made the logical decision. I’m not saying the time is now, I’m saying that when the time is right, it’s my decision- and my decision only. This could be five days later, it could be five months later, or it could be five years down the track. It doesn’t matter. It’s empowering to know I have the power to emancipate myself, should I choose. Knowing that feels like a heavy load has been lifted and I feel light and free.
Questionnaire
So I’ve mentioned in passing that in preparation for my upcoming psychologist appointment, I’ve been asked to fill out a questionnaire. There are pages and pages of questions in it.
Some of which I have no idea where to start in answering…
Some of which are oddly Freudian (thumb sucking in childhood must have some sort of meaning!)…
Some of which I’ve had a good chortle over and wondered about the relevance…
And some of which are just inappropriate.
Thanks for the ideas though, I hadn’t thought of that one before…! Out of curiosity, has anyone ever shot themselves with a gun with no intention to die?
As you may have noticed, I haven’t made much progress in answering these questions. I doubt I will in the next few days. Hope she doesn’t mind me coming in with predominantly blank answers….
Being made to get help again
It seems like I’m back on the ‘getting help’ bandwagon again. Huh. So much for my resolve to be rid of all services.
Received a call from the GP office this morning. 8:15am. Yep, not like I was asleep or anything… Was told that Dr L wants to see me and so I agreed to come in this morning. It seems as though she’s been bombarded with all these letters about me; from F Hospital telling her that I overdosed, from B Hospital telling her I’d recently been discharged, from the psychologist at A St telling her I’ve declined to see her, and another one from A St advising her how my medications should be managed.
Was asked by Dr L what I want to do if I don’t want to see anyone from A St. Could only shrug and shed some tears in response. She said she can’t comprehend being discharged from hospital following an overdose, slipping back into life where everything is the same, and deciding to accept no help whatsoever. And so she’s making me go see a psychologist again. Boo. Was told to either choose to go see the one at A St or be referred to a private one again, and come back with my decision in a week. I’m also about to become best buds with my local pharmacist, as apparently A St has advised her that I’m only to have weekly prescriptions. Yay, I can’t wait to become known to the pharmacy as the mental who can’t be trusted with more than a week’s worth of medication. FML. I’d complain about how humiliating it is, but then I’d probably get some smart arse commenting that I only have myself to blame for getting into this situation.
This afternoon I then received a call from K, the psychologist at A St. She told me she didn’t feel right leaving me be without any support, especially given my most recent hospital admission. I admitted I was upset and angry when I cancelled the appointment with her and “I guess” I could come in and see how things go. Not to mention Dr L is making me see someone anyway. Sigh. May as well go to the psychologist that’s free…
Both times I’ve spoken to K on the phone she’s sounded lovely. And that’s partly what scares me. I know she’s only temporary until I, the regular psychologist, comes back from holidays. I’m afraid of getting to like her only to have her leave, like so many others before her. Knowing it’s unavoidable doesn’t make it hurt any less. I don’t have anyone in my life I can talk to about deep and emotional matters and it’s just so painful when that one person I do have disappears. It leaves me feeling all the more lost and alone.
It seems as though today is mental health professional “Let’s contact WFH day” and in the spirit of it all, D also emailed me back. It basically said that he appreciates what I’m saying and is still happy to attend an appointment with me should I decide to see a psychologist after all. Feeling bad about the “bugger off and screw services” email I sent him, I apologised, explained I was upset and irate when I wrote it, and informed him I’m going to see K after all, though I declined his offer to attend with me. I learnt that people are more likely and willing to respond to a civil email. Who could’ve known…! Ten minutes after I sent it off, I received a reply back telling me not to worry, he didn’t take it personally as he thought I was probably just upset when I wrote it, and wished me all the best. Well that’s that then with clinical psychologist #4. Surely if it doesn’t work out with #5 and #6, I’m allowed to quit then…?
Uni Meeting & Avoiding the Professionals
I had a meeting with the OT course coordinator/my gerontology tutor on Monday. Considering she’s been the contact person during all three hospitalisations in my over a year of studying OT, I was afraid of her thinking me too mental to do this course. After all, there’s been a couple of OTs I met in hospital who haven’t had the most positive response when they’ve found out I’m studying to become one of them. She was lovely though and accommodating and helpful. I don’t need something as drastic as being in hospital to ask for an extension on things if I’m struggling, she told me. Oh. But still, I’d feel guilty and hesitant in doing so. She also suggested getting an Access Plan done up through the Uni Disability Office, which is used to provide to lecturers and the such if I for example need an extension, without having to go into detail about my situation. If I did decide to go that route though, a letter from a medical practitioner or psychologist is required. Given my current, self-imposed situation of not having one, that poses a bit of a problem. And even if I did, I’m afraid of people thinking I’m taking advantage and using my mental health issues as an excuse. I was also asked by the course coordinator whether I have someone to talk to for support. “Err…I’m meant to be seeing someone,” I answered. Before I told them all to eff off. Heh.
Oh, and regarding the email I sent D? He hasn’t replied. Apparently if you tell someone to bugger off, there’s a good chance they will in fact bugger off. Hah, who could’ve known? I was curious about how he’d respond to my email, but never mind. I did receive a text message from my GP’s office this morning though informing me I missed their call and to please ring them back. I haven’t. Too much of a coward, I am. I know I’ll have to see her sooner or later for my meds, but I’m dreading being questioned on what the hell I’m doing by refusing to see a psychologist and psychiatrist and how I plan to stay safe and get well otherwise. Lol, beats me. Oh yeah, and the fact that the day straight after I saw her for an appointment, I went and overdosed on the meds she wrote me a script for. My bad :/ But, I am a pro at avoidance and if I keep putting the problem off, it’ll go away eventually, right?
