Blogs
No one can take away your education. I tell that to the cadets where I work all of the time because it is true: I know from my own hard-won education, an ICBS (I Call Bulls*&!) degree, earned via 18 years of mental, emotional and verbal abuse, featuring a well-designed syllabus acted out by my controlling, manipulating, abusive ex. That man was an excellent teacher, but I didn't truly appreciate his lessons until the last years of his course (a.k.a., our marriage).
It was a long course. Four times, out of sheer frustration I'm sure, he attempted to physically knock the stupid out of me, but it took that final laying on of hands to make me see the light.
I graduated from that abusive experience with the ability to sense abusive bulls*&! from a mile away. Thank you, Ex-Husband, for the education.
I've discussed how I like to use the word "crazy" and don't find it derogatory. Us crazies, we have to stick together, I might say. I've also said that people can use any word to hurt you. Don't tell me you're a secretary.
But some people use a mental illness diagnosis as a weapon. Some people insult and abuse with the facts of illness and treatment.
My son, Ben, lives with schizophrenia and was doing well until his recent sudden relapse. Of course, we are doing everything we can to bring Ben back from his first schizophrenia relapse in over six years. The process reminds me of what I believe have been the four cornerstones of Ben's recovery from Schizophrenia - all of which were removed too quickly.
Recovery from a mental illness is possible, but only if attention is paid to the human being behind the illness. Watch and let me know what you think.
Sometimes it feels like it has been a long 20 years of living with depression and it's related challenges. Today feels like it's been far too long. I have been lucky enough to experience periods of reprieve, times of fresh perspective and times of stability. I believe I am still in a healthy place despite some major life challenges. But, even with these periods of relative calm and good mental health, there is something ever-present, the fear and stigma of depression.
My son, "Bob," has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder and ADHD. In my post titled "Insurance Companies Are NOT Psychiatrists--Why Are They Making Decisions?," I discussed how my insurance company has decided not to pay for refills of Bob's psychiatric medications - even though his psychiatrist thinks they are necessary for his mental wellness.
Your Child with Mental Illness is Being Over-medicated
One reader agrees with the insurance company. Why? Concernedmom says he's "over-medicated".
You have had asthma as long as you can remember--since childhood--and have been seeing the same pulmonologist for at least three years. Your doctor has had you on theophylline, a pill you take three times a day, and a Flovent inhaler (which you use twice daily) for the past year. You went to the pharmacy today and dropped off your scripts, as you do every month, only to be told you can't fill them. Why? Because your insurance company won't approve a prescription for more than 60 theophylline. Nor will they fill a Flovent inhaler for more uses than once daily.
Living with a chronic, serious, or terminal illness is tough. It is life altering and with it often comes a lot of emotional stress. Issues like depression, anxiety, isolation and helplessness are common to experience. Our guest, Dr. Ann Becker-Schutte, joins us to discuss helping those affected by chronic and serious illness to live a balanced life.
Dr. Marsha Linehan, best known for creating dialectical behavioral therapy (DBT), admitted in a New York Times article that she struggles with mental illness, once being called "one of the most disturbed patients in the hospital." She would diagnose her troubled teenage self as having borderline personality disorder, or BPD. So why does this matter?
So, interesting thing. Mental illness has a tendency to run roughshod through a person's life. Everything in life goes by the wayside to make room for the unbearable being of crazy. You know you're alive because you're in pain.
And then, against all odds, or at the very least against some odds, you start to feel better. It's a miracle. Breath and life and oxygen and delight fill the lungs. Suddenly life is easy. Cupboards get organized, relationships get mended and Work Gets Done. Life is Good.
Why, then, is it so freakin' scary?
Telling the truth is one component of integrity, but integrity has to do with being "whole" and "complete" in what we do, believe, and say. Our behaviors, thoughts, and words must align in order to have integrity. During the course of my abusive marriage, I discovered I'd lost my integrity and that I told a whole truck load of lies to boot.
I didn't like myself because I was not saying or doing what I believed to be right. Although I lied to protect myself from abuse, the abuse of my most valued characteristic, my integrity, hurt more deeply than my husband's put-downs and wrongful conclusions.
Where do we go from here? Most of the family thinks just to let her hit bottom and then if she reaches out to help any we can. Some want to just keep paying her bills and just let her sit in the house with no responsibilities. Never been on medication and impossible to get to her when she refuses to talk to ANYONE.
Help.
On the day we agreed to videochat to make things less awkward IRL she woke up with a migraine so we rescheduled to the day after, I made sure to assure her that it was okay and to take her time. Later that day, in the late evening we had a nice chat but suddenly she stopped replying, even though nothing had happened. The day after I texted her good morning and said I hope she was feeling a little better. she wouldn't open my texts.
A couple days after I sent her a longer text saying that even though I had only known her for a short time I care a lot for her and would like to know how she are doing, telling her I'm there for her, assuring her I'm not going anywhere even though things might not be very easy. She wouldn't open it.
A week later I sent a text saying not to feel bad about not answering and that I will be there when she is able to answer again. It's been two weeks since this and she still hasn't opened my texts. She hasn't been active at all.
I don't know what else I can do. I assumed she might have fallen into a depression. I have tried to just not think about it anymore, and I haven't that much but when I do it sort of kills me inside...