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I hate shrinks. Shrinks should die. Shrinks are evil. (Thank the commenters (not an individual) for that.)
OK I get it, you don’t like psychiatrists. Personally, I would find a more intelligent way to express an argument, but your point is clear nonetheless.
You’re ranting. I get that. I rant. We all do. It’s a healthy expression of the frustration seen when dealing with so many things outside of our own control. But at some point you have to stop hating, wishing for murder and committing moral condemnation and actually do something useful.
Anxiety and panic are so overwhelming, that even when you know anxiety isn't the only thing you're feeling, you can't name what those other things might be. You can't pinpoint them, and you certainly can't get to them, hold onto them, or catch them as well as you catch anxiety. Long story short: there's a profound difference between feeling overwhelming panic and feeling okay. And you can't cure panic or anxiety by thinking your way to okay.
Verbal abuse, in essence, seeks to destroy your perception of your Self. The abuser sees you as the enemy to his way of life, and therefore will do everything in his power to diminish your mind, body, and soul to nothing and rebuild you in his image. Your abuser wants you to be non-existent, or at least weak and defeated, so he can define you as exactly what he wants you to be: his slave.
But you didn't know this was his goal. Over time, you didn't notice that you gave of yourself but he contributed nothing. You cited his rotten childhood or made some excuse that fed your desire to help him to overcome his horrid life situation, drawing yourself into codependency and taking on responsibility for his thoughts and actions.
I get asked quite a bit for specific treatment recommendations. People will tell me a few medication details and then ask what to do, or someone will ask what my experience has been on a certain treatment.
My answer is always the same: only your doctor is qualified to talk to you about your treatment as they know your personal history and health. My experience is only one person’s and cannot be generalized to any other person.
And that is the right answer. But unfortunately, it’s one people don’t want to give (or get).
A clear example is seen on Patients Like Me, a web site designed for patient-to-patient communication.
Hello. I'm Amy Kiel and welcome to my depression blog, Depression Diaries. I am a passionate mental health activist learning daily to live a beautiful life despite an ongoing 20 year battle with major depressive disorder. As part of my work to spread awareness and share the message of hope, you can count on me to talk candidly about the real life challenges associated with depression and the many mental health issues that often accompany it. There's no sugar coating it around here.
After next week, I will be responsible for Bob's appointments--psychiatrist (which I already attend) and therapist (which my husband currently handles). The question I'm asking, however--given last week's observations by the therapist--is should we even bother continuing with talk therapy at this point?
Amanda_HP
I don't know anyone who has set out to become an alcoholic. For most, alcoholism creeps up on you. Take Kendra for instance. She's our guest on this week's HealthyPlace Mental Health TV Show.
Kendra started binge drinking in college. It was part of the social scene, so it never struck her that binge drinking might be an indication of a drinking problem. After all, she was only drinking one day a week. Of course, that was the early years.
I write at HealthyPlace about the problems associated with living with bipolar disorder, and let’s face it, there are many. I also talk about the problems with the treatment of bipolar disorder, and yes, there are many of those too.
But just because I recognize issues, discuss genuine, painful emotion and make loud an inner voice that among most people is strangled, doesn’t mean my treatment has been a failure. Just because I’m not “all better,” that doesn’t mean treatment doesn’t work.
There's a great deal of flexibility demanded of parents and other caregivers of mentally ill children. I don't mean physical flexibility (although that can certainly come in handy, as well)--I mean the ability--and willingness--to completely move from Plan A to B in the blink of an eye.
I mentioned previously that some changes were in order for our family. After a lot of number-crunching, soul-searching, cussing and dis-cussing, nail-biting and everything else that goes with major life decisions--yesterday, I resigned from my job.
I know of a lawsuit I would have paid a month's wages to watch Judge Judy handle. When I was a child, a student brought either cocaine or heroin to her elite private school. She was caught and expelled. However, the school had no written rules, which meant there was no formal drug policy. She sued, claiming she didn't know she couldn't bring drugs.
To my knowledge, borderline personality disorder (BPD) was not a factor. However, this frivolous lawsuit is a perfect example of an attempt to avoid personal responsibility--one of the complications of BPD.
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...