The evils of psychiatry
Late at night, when I'm unable to sleep, my mind goes berserk. It selects a subject and then proceeds to go on a mental rampage. It'll play out past dramas but rewrite the script and attach different endings. It'll worry about events that have yet to unfold or make lists of things that need to be done. Its even kept itself busy by plotting out creative ways to die. Last night, it decided to go on a rant about the evils of psychiatry.
As I lay there listening to the voice rambling on, I decided to grab a pen and paper to transcribe what it was spouting off about. Normally I don't and by morning I barely even remember what the subject was let alone any of the details because I'm so exhausted from not having slept at all. I found this adventure to be quite interesting. Here's the part of the rant I managed to catch on paper:
Psychiatrists nonchalantly wave these diagnoses around as if they were plastic swords, incapable of causing any harm. As the mentally ill are paraded in front of them like peasants before a king, we are then dubbed a Bipolar or a Depressive or a Borderline Personality Disorder or an Alcoholic or whatever is chosen based on a 10 minute chat. What they fail to realize is that their words have all the deadliness of a very real, finely tuned weapon.
Each label they bestow upon us is not accompanied by a delicate tap on the shoulder, but rather is thrust into our gut, slicing cleanly through our already fragile, bleeding soul. Even as we stand before them pleading for our lives, tears streaming down our face as their words cut deep, they seem oblivious to the damage they are doing.
The medications they then prescribe are woefully inadequate and further exacerbate the damage. They may as well just prescribe arsenic. At least with that, there would be a quicker end to our suffering instead of having the chemicals of these psychotropic drugs slowly eat away at our remaining sanity like sulfuric acid on skin.
I know why my mind decided to focus on this particular topic and yes, I do agree with everything it had to say. Based on that agreement, I keep wondering if I should shift my attentions away from this "trying to get better" mode I've been in since 2003 and instead grasp tightly onto what little sanity I have left and protect it from being completely destroyed.
4 Comments:
Oh honey I'm so,so sorry that you're in the bowels of hell right now. I'm close behind you-the endometriosis has me a bit mental and I'm cycling pretty hard. I've had a few arguments and have been generally behaving badly.
I can sincerely say when certain docs have bad things happen to them I am not surprised(and am sometimes quite glee filled about it). Patients or "consumers"(I loathe that word)are like 45 minute burdens on their precious clocks.
We're deemed "Unworthy" due to our dxes and narcissists that they are they make every effort to let us know. God help us if we challenge them...But I never stop challenging them.
The way you feel about seroquel is how I feel about prozac and wellbutrin.
Many,many hugs and hope of calm clarity for you.
Your generalising, and besides that, I don't know any psychiatrist which only treats people in 10 minutes.
My psychiatrist has been very reluctant to make a diagnosis or throw drugs at it.
She said she was on a rant and caught it on paper so she was freewriting her feelings. So yes...she's allowed to generalize(its her blog remember) and the 10 minute part could have been an measure of time if the psychiatrist isn't listening. Why are you arguing or attempting to kick someone when they're down? Trust me when I'd suggest that this is not a good time.
I hear you my friend. It seems many pdocs don't realize what effect their actions have on people. Nor do they take into account our quality of life. My pdoc is great but he's so very clinical.
He's not too willing to listen to side effect complaints. He usually spouts off something about how it's better to be alive than have a sex life, normal weight, motivation to do things, etc.
I agree somewhat but he woefully ignores that such sacrifices cause us even MORE depression. It also makes us feel like we're doing nothing but survive and get through one day at a time. Quality of life is HUGE for me.
They don't seem to care much though about it. We're just supposed to take their meds without question and not complain. I find a lot of help in pot believe it or not. Especially with depression.
When I crash into a suicidal depression smoking a bit of pot helps me immensely. It's the only medication I've found that pulls me out quickly and gives me time to recover. So that when the pot wears off I feel more reset and balanced. There is no legal medication that works that fast.
Plus pot doesn't leave you feeling like you're taking a poisonous pill. That said, pot isn't for everyone and shouldn't be used for every little problem.
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