Dear Criers, Laughers, and Pressers of Grim Lips,
You ever just wake up one day and think, "I'm not in a bad mood. I'm not sad. I'm just not happy. In fact, I just feel like crying?"
Well, I wake up feeling like that, and today is one of those days.
I like to call them my "Tender Days."
On Tender Days, my insides feel as if they have been run through a cheese grater, and I feel like I'm pulpy, swollen, and would burst into a river of bodily fluids at the slightest provocation. In fact, on days like today, I'm known to cry at commercials, laugh and cry at the same time at a stupid joke, or sit on the bus trying to maintain composure as evocative thoughts loll around in my head.
In short, I spend Tender Days perpetually on the verge of tears, and every little thing, both kind and cruel, real or remembered, makes me weep.
So I'm feeling a little tender, and I've been weeping a bit as I cruise around on my daily run through the various media I like to read. I'd tell you what I'm tearing up about, but I really don't want to dwell, and you needn't depress yourself too.
I'm going to sign off the web for the night. I'll try to distract myself by baking some strawberry muffins. I'll give you the recipe to save for your own Tender Days in a coming post. Maybe they'll help you feel a little lighter too.
Crying over my cupcakes,
O.
Showing posts with label stress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stress. Show all posts
Friday, May 22, 2009
Saturday, May 9, 2009
No one is safe from a sterotype...
Dear Trusted Adults, Carers of Children, Mothers, Fathers, Sisters, Brothers, and Friends,
Some less than light reading excerpted from the Globe and Mail (Click on the title to view the entire article):
Bullying in Childhood May Help Trigger Schizophrenia
By Paul Taylor
Some less than light reading excerpted from the Globe and Mail (Click on the title to view the entire article):
Bullying in Childhood May Help Trigger Schizophrenia
By Paul Taylor
"Children who face relentless bullying from their peers are at elevated risk of developing psychotic symptoms by the time they reach early adolescence, a British study has revealed.
Previous research has shown that bullying can lead to anxiety, depression and even suicide. But the new study, by researchers at the University of Warwick, is the first to link bullying with psychotic symptoms, which include hallucinations, delusions, and bizarre and paranoid thoughts.
Essentially, the stress caused by severe and chronic victimization may be enough to push a vulnerable person over the edge, leading to full-blown schizophrenia, Dr. Wolke speculated.
He noted that stress spurs the release of cortisol, a hormone that might alter the developing brain. What's more, being treated badly can have long-lasting effects on the thought processes of an impressionable child.
Further research would be needed to confirm that bullying can be the spark for schizophrenia.
The latest findings, published in Archives of General Psychiatry, are based on an assessment of 6,437 young individuals.
About 46 per cent of the kids had been victims of bullying to some degree. The children who experienced a great deal of bullying tended to be the ones who were most likely to suffer from psychotic symptoms.But Dr. Wolke emphasized that the odds of developing such symptoms must be kept in perspective.
"You have an increased risk, but it doesn't mean that most of the children who were bullied developed psychotic symptoms," he said in an interview."
________________________________
And now to highlight how attributions are assigned to those living with mental illness, and to behold the appearance and evolution of stereotypes, prejudice, and discrimination; from the comments section related to this article:
this is just my opinion from Toronto, Canada writes:Could be a chicken vs egg issue. Maybe kids who are predisposed to mental illnesses tend to be picked on more because the other kids think they're 'weird'..?
Nature Lover from Canada writes: Not only that, but kids who have psycological disorders don't "get" the triggers that make them annoying, and they are poor judges of situations that could cause other kids to lash out at them. As much as we could "sanitize" schools with anti-bullying messages, the reality is that kids are just unformed adults who don't always behave in a civilized way. So if kid A is "bugging" kid B, be it verbally or physically, kid B may react chldishly to the situation, hitting back etc. I've seen this all before and the mother of kid A will jump in and accuse kid B of being a bully, when it was really kid A's behaviour that precipitated when went down.
_____________________________________
And last but not least, a comment from sum crumb summarizing the reality/absurdity of what the hell is going on with these comments:
sum crumb, from Canada wrote: Interesting presumptions about children with potential predispositions to psychosis floating around... "weird"... "childish"... "annoying"... "poor judges"... will the value attributions associated with mental illness never end? And now we're laying these myths, labels, and stereotypes on children?
Speaking of bullies, remember how we call the adults with mental illnesses lazy, unmotivated, and social leeches? Isn't that bad enough? How about we just leave the kids alone (with the assigning of labels and misplaced value attributions), and rotate around this discussion of children and mental illness VERY carefully... preferably with a ten foot pole?
These are children afterall, and we do want them to have the rosiest, as unblemished as possible, future, no?
Labels are harmful, no?
Or have the bullies just not got around to understanding these basic facts of life yet?
(Thanks to the bullies who are flying their flags even here, on a topic like this. Do you people have ANY morals or sense of ethic?)
__________________________________
So I guess the final message is: Bullies never die, and ignorance lives on forever?
I hope we do leave the kids alone. Let's let kids just grow up and be kids? Let's not let little people (children) grow up and live forever under any of our misplaced and/or ignorant banners, huh?
Crossing my fingers that we cross the bridge to a brighter side, but not holding my breath,
O.
PS. Why isn't anyone discussing parenting and intolerance to bullying? Are we really supposed to accept the "kids will be kids" mantra? Kids WILL be kids. Some kids will be nice kids. Some kids will be less nice. Other kids will be jerky kids. They will be the kids that their parents brought up... so this says something, I think. Something about parenting...
Monday, March 16, 2009
I don't *do* myths...
Dear Mythbusters,
We need you! Now! Fer realz!
Okay, we need to talk about psychosis and myths. We need to talk about those health conditions that make you lose contact with reality (psychosis as it relates to schizophrenia, severe depression, and bi-polar), and we need to talk about the myths that surround them.
Myth #1: People with psychosis are crazy axe murders.
The origins of this myth lie in two key areas: a) popular media; b) the heinously oversensationalized actions of people who are unwell.
Interestingly, the two origins of this myth conveniently play into one another. Popular media, like movies, for example, uses the medical condition of psychosis because it creates an alluring and seemingly complicated character that will do things that "normal" people would never do. And so axe murders are often described as psychotic, or insane, since it's just beyond comprehension that a person in possession of sanity would do such things.
When people with psychosis are in poor health, and are locked in the grips of a psychotic event, sometimes odd and even very unfortunate behaviour can happen... which tends to wind up in our news... over and over again, for any number of years following the event. Furthermore, since the behaviour of one in the grips of a psychotic event can be so unusual, this tends to make great fodder for semi-truthful, fictionalized tales, which supports the perpetuation of the mythology.
So, what is the truth? Are people with psychosis any more murderous or criminal than the regular population? Well, not really. The truth of the matter is that *most* crimes are committed by those who we would consider fairly sane people. However, people with psychosis still do commit crimes, at a fairly consistent rate with the rest of the population.
Can people with psychosis commit crimes that are motivated by their psychotic event? Of course. But you know how we can avoid that? By taking mental health seriously, and by ensuring that everyone has equal, compassionate, and appropriate access to preventative education and (if needed) timely treatments. (I'll discuss treatments and what I mean by this last sentence in another post, on another day.)
Just a last point about criminal behaviour and people: Crimes are more likely to be committed against us by people we know. The idea of "stranger danger" is a myth. And so the truth is that you will know, most likely, in some manner, the person who has broken into your home. Also, you are more likely to be assaulted, raped, and even murdered by someone you know and/or love than you are by a "crazed" stranger. Keep that in mind the next time you walk out your front door.
Myth #2: People with psychosis are possessed.
The origins of this myth lie in: Religion/Spirituality/Mysticism/Explaining the unexplainable by making up interesting tales that are not realistic given the information about the brain and its workings that we have today.
Okay, I'm not super religious, and I don't believe in spirits. I can understand that if you do believe in religion/spirits/ghosts/possession that this myth makes sense to you, since spirits are known to be pretty nasty, according to religious or spiritual lore.
But the truth is, psychosis is medical condition that has fairly clear symptoms, a pretty predictable progress, and a clear pattern in the activities and chemical actions in the brain. There is no definitive "test" for psychosis, but some tests will show unusual brain activity, and more refined tests (that are experimental and not used on people) will show problems with dopamine transmission. Furthermore, since medicine that deals with dopamine (and/or very good age-and-situation specific therapy) can help relieve the symptoms of psychosis, this gives us a lot of reason to think that this is a condition better treated by doctors, therapists, and loving families than preists or spiritual experts.
Consulting a doctor (or two, sometimes three) first, to rule out psychosis, would be more helpful than just attempting an exorcism or spiritual ceremony.
Myth #3: People with psychosis have access to "another dimension," "another world," "a different spiritual plane."
Origins of this myth: Religion/Animism/Shamanism/Mysticism/Delusional Thinking Itself (Yes, I said that one out loud.)
This myth is an interesting one, since it is heavily supported by some religious groups/belief systems. It is also supported by the condition itself, which can sometimes lean towards delusional thinking. (Delusions are what we call "false and fixed beliefs." They are beliefs that are not likely to be realistic, and they are beliefs that are held with a feeling of certainty, even if there is a lot of evidence to show they are wrong.) Furthermore, this myth is also supported by some older theories relating to mental health and its causes. (Perhaps I'll write more about this last point in another post as well, since I'm sure it begs for clarification!)
You know, I really wish that my psychotic event gave me visions of another world. I really wish it did. That would be a lot of fun, and it would make me a very special person who had a special view of life that others did not have access to.
But the truth is, my psychotic event really just gave me a lot of confusing and anxious feelings. What I think it did was mix up my memories and distort my concept of time, and spit it all out into the present like it was real and happening at that moment, with no order or clear logic that belonged to the context I was in. I was having thoughts and doing things that only made sense to me, and that sense of logic was next to impossible to describe to others, even though I did (and still do) understand it myself.
Confusing. Not fun. Not access to a new dimension. Definitely not "a vision." Really, I do wish it was a vision, since that would give meaning to an event that seems like it should be so meaningful.
I think my point is that the experience of psychosis can be very interesting, and can even seem insightful, but that mythologizing the "insights" or visions that come out of a condition of mental health can be very harmful. Many of us with psychosis experience painful emotions (anxiety, fear, suspicion, confusion), and feel disconnected from our loved ones when we first start to feel the symptoms of the condition. Things escalate and then our behaviour changes and people, our friends, families, and neighbours, find reasons to actively shun us for doing behaviours that none of us can predict.
Furthermore, in most cultures, a condition like psychosis has very serious social consequences. Even though a person can be revered for having visions by some groups, they are usually also feared (this is an interesting and tense paradox), and live on the fringes of society... Kind of like tigers in a zoo: fun to look at, interesting to interact with, but mostly unpredictable and fearsome, and thus always treated very, very carefully, and best if generally avoided.
In North America, we don't really think that people with psychosis have access to a special reality, and we just tend to think people with this condition are loonies or psychos or axe murderers... and so those of us with psychosis get pushed to edges of our social networks... this means, for us, fewer jobs, fewer friends, even being ostracized by our families. And really, all of that just amounts to a hell of a lot of loneliness and poverty and confusion for everyone involved.
This one is a harmful myth indeed. A soothing myth for the egos of some, maybe, but a very harmful one.
Myth #4: Psychosis is caused by a demanding and abusive world that won't accept people who deviate from what is "normal."
Origins of this myth: Early psychiatry. Reductionist environmental/social psychology.
Early psychiatry and even modern environmental psychology has invested a lot of time and energy trying to explain that psychosis is caused exclusively by the life and circumstances of the person who develops the condition. This is known as the Environmental/Social Model.
Another model is also trying to explain psychosis, this is called the Biopsychosocial Model. Before I tell you about the Biopsychosocial Model, I want to talk about one of science's Great Debates: Nature vs. Nuture. This is an important debate to talk about, since it will help us to understand why resolving this myth is important, and it will help us better understand the Biopsychosocial Model.
One of the big discussions that is happening in healthcare and mental health and psychology is what is called the nature/nurture debate. This debate is trying to pinpoint the origins of all kinds of things affecting people. On the "nature" side, we would bring up things relating to the genes (the traits that we inherit from our parents, like hair colour, skin colour, and on and on) and we discuss how a variety of things are caused by or related to our genes or our basic biology. On the "nurture" side, we talk about how our looks or behaviour or ideas are related to or caused by the places and people we grow up with.
And so if we were to take an issue like psychosis, the nature side would say: having an event of psychosis is a condition that is related more closely to the biology of the person who has it. We think this because psychosis can run in families; you are more likely to have a psychotic event if you have a family member who has lived with a condition related to psychosis (schizophrenia, severe depression, bi-polar). There is early genomic evidence that shows that psychosis (the psychosis that appears in schizophrenia) exists in a number of genes.
More support for the nature side says that psychosis happens when you change the dopamine levels; specifically, increases in dopamine amounts can increase your likelihood of having a psychotic event. And so changing the chemicals in the brain tells us that this is a condition that happens in the wiring/transmissions that happen in our heads.
For the other side, the nurture side, the debate tells us that people who grow up in certain environments or with certain life circumstances are more likely to get psychosis. In families where there is a lot of stress, there is also a tendency for more psychosis. And so psychosis can happen more often in families where a number of crises or tragedies occor, or when the family is poor and can't have the "stabilizing" effects of financial prosperity (talking about a stable supply of healthy food, a stable supply of medications for family members with health problems, access to supportive or even just higher education systems, stable access to transit to get to work or even to get to a doctor if needed!) In short, the nature debate tells us that those who are "assaulted" by life consistently, in terms of poverty, abusive or neglectful social/family conditions, food/necessity shortages, and unstable finances and housing, or just major life changes, are more likely to develop psychosis.
Well, here's the truth to this psychosis myth: In this case, both the nature and nurture debators win. Nature tells us that psychosis can be passed down through families. Nature tells us there are "genes" for psychosis, just like there are genes that mark cancer, just like there are genes that dictate eye colour. Nature tells us that we can change a person's brain chemistry to "create" or "take away" psychosis.
But!
It gets complicated. The genes, science is thinking, become "activated" by a stressful environment. (Stress is translated by the body through a chemical called cortisol... A stressful event happens or even if you *think* a stressful event will happen, and your body makes more of this hormone, and then your body reacts to it by doing all kinds of things like having a faster heartbeat, feeling very hot or very cold, feeling nervous, and so on... more fodder for the biology discussion.) And so someone can be born with a "tendency" towards having this condition (the same way one can have a higher chance of getting a type of cancer because of their genes). But the condition may or may not come out, depending on the life circumstances/stressors/sensitivity to cortisol (stress) hormones of the person who has the genes.
And so people with a lot of stress in their lifetime would find these genes activated. And we're not just talking once in awhile work pressure stress, we're talking fairly consistent patterns of stressors. Stress that relates to uncertain living circumstances... stress that relates to being poor, like worrying all the time about food, medicine, and how to pay the next bill... stress that relates to big life changes, like going to university or even getting married... and you get the picture.
This blending of both sides, nature AND nurture, is called the biopsychosocial model of psychosis. It takes into account the traits a person is given to by their parents (bio), the environment and circumstances of the person (social), and even the person him or herself in terms of their age and experience and how they deal with life and its details (psycho).
Forever chipping away to find the truth and hoping these tidbits have helped a bit,
O.
We need you! Now! Fer realz!
Okay, we need to talk about psychosis and myths. We need to talk about those health conditions that make you lose contact with reality (psychosis as it relates to schizophrenia, severe depression, and bi-polar), and we need to talk about the myths that surround them.
Myth #1: People with psychosis are crazy axe murders.
The origins of this myth lie in two key areas: a) popular media; b) the heinously oversensationalized actions of people who are unwell.
Interestingly, the two origins of this myth conveniently play into one another. Popular media, like movies, for example, uses the medical condition of psychosis because it creates an alluring and seemingly complicated character that will do things that "normal" people would never do. And so axe murders are often described as psychotic, or insane, since it's just beyond comprehension that a person in possession of sanity would do such things.
When people with psychosis are in poor health, and are locked in the grips of a psychotic event, sometimes odd and even very unfortunate behaviour can happen... which tends to wind up in our news... over and over again, for any number of years following the event. Furthermore, since the behaviour of one in the grips of a psychotic event can be so unusual, this tends to make great fodder for semi-truthful, fictionalized tales, which supports the perpetuation of the mythology.
So, what is the truth? Are people with psychosis any more murderous or criminal than the regular population? Well, not really. The truth of the matter is that *most* crimes are committed by those who we would consider fairly sane people. However, people with psychosis still do commit crimes, at a fairly consistent rate with the rest of the population.
Can people with psychosis commit crimes that are motivated by their psychotic event? Of course. But you know how we can avoid that? By taking mental health seriously, and by ensuring that everyone has equal, compassionate, and appropriate access to preventative education and (if needed) timely treatments. (I'll discuss treatments and what I mean by this last sentence in another post, on another day.)
Just a last point about criminal behaviour and people: Crimes are more likely to be committed against us by people we know. The idea of "stranger danger" is a myth. And so the truth is that you will know, most likely, in some manner, the person who has broken into your home. Also, you are more likely to be assaulted, raped, and even murdered by someone you know and/or love than you are by a "crazed" stranger. Keep that in mind the next time you walk out your front door.
Myth #2: People with psychosis are possessed.
The origins of this myth lie in: Religion/Spirituality/Mysticism/Explaining the unexplainable by making up interesting tales that are not realistic given the information about the brain and its workings that we have today.
Okay, I'm not super religious, and I don't believe in spirits. I can understand that if you do believe in religion/spirits/ghosts/possession that this myth makes sense to you, since spirits are known to be pretty nasty, according to religious or spiritual lore.
But the truth is, psychosis is medical condition that has fairly clear symptoms, a pretty predictable progress, and a clear pattern in the activities and chemical actions in the brain. There is no definitive "test" for psychosis, but some tests will show unusual brain activity, and more refined tests (that are experimental and not used on people) will show problems with dopamine transmission. Furthermore, since medicine that deals with dopamine (and/or very good age-and-situation specific therapy) can help relieve the symptoms of psychosis, this gives us a lot of reason to think that this is a condition better treated by doctors, therapists, and loving families than preists or spiritual experts.
Consulting a doctor (or two, sometimes three) first, to rule out psychosis, would be more helpful than just attempting an exorcism or spiritual ceremony.
Myth #3: People with psychosis have access to "another dimension," "another world," "a different spiritual plane."
Origins of this myth: Religion/Animism/Shamanism/Mysticism/Delusional Thinking Itself (Yes, I said that one out loud.)
This myth is an interesting one, since it is heavily supported by some religious groups/belief systems. It is also supported by the condition itself, which can sometimes lean towards delusional thinking. (Delusions are what we call "false and fixed beliefs." They are beliefs that are not likely to be realistic, and they are beliefs that are held with a feeling of certainty, even if there is a lot of evidence to show they are wrong.) Furthermore, this myth is also supported by some older theories relating to mental health and its causes. (Perhaps I'll write more about this last point in another post as well, since I'm sure it begs for clarification!)
You know, I really wish that my psychotic event gave me visions of another world. I really wish it did. That would be a lot of fun, and it would make me a very special person who had a special view of life that others did not have access to.
But the truth is, my psychotic event really just gave me a lot of confusing and anxious feelings. What I think it did was mix up my memories and distort my concept of time, and spit it all out into the present like it was real and happening at that moment, with no order or clear logic that belonged to the context I was in. I was having thoughts and doing things that only made sense to me, and that sense of logic was next to impossible to describe to others, even though I did (and still do) understand it myself.
Confusing. Not fun. Not access to a new dimension. Definitely not "a vision." Really, I do wish it was a vision, since that would give meaning to an event that seems like it should be so meaningful.
I think my point is that the experience of psychosis can be very interesting, and can even seem insightful, but that mythologizing the "insights" or visions that come out of a condition of mental health can be very harmful. Many of us with psychosis experience painful emotions (anxiety, fear, suspicion, confusion), and feel disconnected from our loved ones when we first start to feel the symptoms of the condition. Things escalate and then our behaviour changes and people, our friends, families, and neighbours, find reasons to actively shun us for doing behaviours that none of us can predict.
Furthermore, in most cultures, a condition like psychosis has very serious social consequences. Even though a person can be revered for having visions by some groups, they are usually also feared (this is an interesting and tense paradox), and live on the fringes of society... Kind of like tigers in a zoo: fun to look at, interesting to interact with, but mostly unpredictable and fearsome, and thus always treated very, very carefully, and best if generally avoided.
In North America, we don't really think that people with psychosis have access to a special reality, and we just tend to think people with this condition are loonies or psychos or axe murderers... and so those of us with psychosis get pushed to edges of our social networks... this means, for us, fewer jobs, fewer friends, even being ostracized by our families. And really, all of that just amounts to a hell of a lot of loneliness and poverty and confusion for everyone involved.
This one is a harmful myth indeed. A soothing myth for the egos of some, maybe, but a very harmful one.
Myth #4: Psychosis is caused by a demanding and abusive world that won't accept people who deviate from what is "normal."
Origins of this myth: Early psychiatry. Reductionist environmental/social psychology.
Early psychiatry and even modern environmental psychology has invested a lot of time and energy trying to explain that psychosis is caused exclusively by the life and circumstances of the person who develops the condition. This is known as the Environmental/Social Model.
Another model is also trying to explain psychosis, this is called the Biopsychosocial Model. Before I tell you about the Biopsychosocial Model, I want to talk about one of science's Great Debates: Nature vs. Nuture. This is an important debate to talk about, since it will help us to understand why resolving this myth is important, and it will help us better understand the Biopsychosocial Model.
One of the big discussions that is happening in healthcare and mental health and psychology is what is called the nature/nurture debate. This debate is trying to pinpoint the origins of all kinds of things affecting people. On the "nature" side, we would bring up things relating to the genes (the traits that we inherit from our parents, like hair colour, skin colour, and on and on) and we discuss how a variety of things are caused by or related to our genes or our basic biology. On the "nurture" side, we talk about how our looks or behaviour or ideas are related to or caused by the places and people we grow up with.
And so if we were to take an issue like psychosis, the nature side would say: having an event of psychosis is a condition that is related more closely to the biology of the person who has it. We think this because psychosis can run in families; you are more likely to have a psychotic event if you have a family member who has lived with a condition related to psychosis (schizophrenia, severe depression, bi-polar). There is early genomic evidence that shows that psychosis (the psychosis that appears in schizophrenia) exists in a number of genes.
More support for the nature side says that psychosis happens when you change the dopamine levels; specifically, increases in dopamine amounts can increase your likelihood of having a psychotic event. And so changing the chemicals in the brain tells us that this is a condition that happens in the wiring/transmissions that happen in our heads.
For the other side, the nurture side, the debate tells us that people who grow up in certain environments or with certain life circumstances are more likely to get psychosis. In families where there is a lot of stress, there is also a tendency for more psychosis. And so psychosis can happen more often in families where a number of crises or tragedies occor, or when the family is poor and can't have the "stabilizing" effects of financial prosperity (talking about a stable supply of healthy food, a stable supply of medications for family members with health problems, access to supportive or even just higher education systems, stable access to transit to get to work or even to get to a doctor if needed!) In short, the nature debate tells us that those who are "assaulted" by life consistently, in terms of poverty, abusive or neglectful social/family conditions, food/necessity shortages, and unstable finances and housing, or just major life changes, are more likely to develop psychosis.
Well, here's the truth to this psychosis myth: In this case, both the nature and nurture debators win. Nature tells us that psychosis can be passed down through families. Nature tells us there are "genes" for psychosis, just like there are genes that mark cancer, just like there are genes that dictate eye colour. Nature tells us that we can change a person's brain chemistry to "create" or "take away" psychosis.
But!
It gets complicated. The genes, science is thinking, become "activated" by a stressful environment. (Stress is translated by the body through a chemical called cortisol... A stressful event happens or even if you *think* a stressful event will happen, and your body makes more of this hormone, and then your body reacts to it by doing all kinds of things like having a faster heartbeat, feeling very hot or very cold, feeling nervous, and so on... more fodder for the biology discussion.) And so someone can be born with a "tendency" towards having this condition (the same way one can have a higher chance of getting a type of cancer because of their genes). But the condition may or may not come out, depending on the life circumstances/stressors/sensitivity to cortisol (stress) hormones of the person who has the genes.
And so people with a lot of stress in their lifetime would find these genes activated. And we're not just talking once in awhile work pressure stress, we're talking fairly consistent patterns of stressors. Stress that relates to uncertain living circumstances... stress that relates to being poor, like worrying all the time about food, medicine, and how to pay the next bill... stress that relates to big life changes, like going to university or even getting married... and you get the picture.
This blending of both sides, nature AND nurture, is called the biopsychosocial model of psychosis. It takes into account the traits a person is given to by their parents (bio), the environment and circumstances of the person (social), and even the person him or herself in terms of their age and experience and how they deal with life and its details (psycho).
Forever chipping away to find the truth and hoping these tidbits have helped a bit,
O.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Aminal Luver
Dear Lovers of Aminals,
I have recently come across some disturbing information. Apparently there are people in the world who believe that people with a condition affecting their mental health should not be owners of pets.
What logic is behind this notion? Well, the logic is that while pets can provide companionship and love in the short term, they inevitably die, and their owners (remember, the mentally ill owners) will be so stressed from bereavement that a relapse is likely to occur.
To be honest, I found this logic a little strange. Number one, the logic denies the natural order of life: All things will die.
At some point a person living with a mental health condition (MHC) will have to confront the concept of death...
People age. Accidents happen. Life happens.
No one can be protected from what is inevitable.
And so I think of pets in the same way that I'm sure most parents do when they find themselves dealing with the similar issues for their bereavement-naive children; pets are a primer to help all of us deal with the concept of loss.
Wait! Don't get me wrong... I don't think that the only goal of a pet is to help people gain experience with bereavement.
Secondly, from experience as a pet-owner, animal lover, and as a person with an MHC, pets provide a lifetime of love, companionship, and joy to their owner. For some reason, in times of severe distress, when I found myself overwhelmed and unable to reach out to people, I was able to reach out to my pets. The pets in my life have always been there to soothe me, distract me, and entertain me whenever I needed it most. In exchange for their companionship and attention, I gave them good food, clean water, and a constant supply of belly rubs. Not a bad deal, I think, for either me or my pets.
When my first pet died, I had been living with my diagnosis for about 7 years. Did the loss of my furry friend cause me to relapse? No. She was sick. Her being unwell was very stressful for me, and it gave me comfort to know that she was no longer suffering. Did I cry? Yes. And did I learn something from that experience? Yes. I learned that it is okay to cry, and to cry hard, when you are very sad. I also learned that veterinarians are nice to sad people who have just lost their pets. And so are most other strangers you meet while you are a young girl, on your way home from the vet, crying your eyes out about the loss of your little buddy.
I also learned that the hole that your loved one left behind in death can be filled with other things over the course of time.
More than animals teaching about bereavement, they teach us about relationships and care, and they show us what unconditional love *really* looks like.
So the next time anyone wants to argue that pets cause too much stress for people with an MHC, you need to explain that the rewards are worth the loss - a loss that we all know is inevitable at the end of the day.
Sincerely,
O.
I have recently come across some disturbing information. Apparently there are people in the world who believe that people with a condition affecting their mental health should not be owners of pets.
What logic is behind this notion? Well, the logic is that while pets can provide companionship and love in the short term, they inevitably die, and their owners (remember, the mentally ill owners) will be so stressed from bereavement that a relapse is likely to occur.
To be honest, I found this logic a little strange. Number one, the logic denies the natural order of life: All things will die.At some point a person living with a mental health condition (MHC) will have to confront the concept of death...
People age. Accidents happen. Life happens.
No one can be protected from what is inevitable.
And so I think of pets in the same way that I'm sure most parents do when they find themselves dealing with the similar issues for their bereavement-naive children; pets are a primer to help all of us deal with the concept of loss.
Wait! Don't get me wrong... I don't think that the only goal of a pet is to help people gain experience with bereavement.
Secondly, from experience as a pet-owner, animal lover, and as a person with an MHC, pets provide a lifetime of love, companionship, and joy to their owner. For some reason, in times of severe distress, when I found myself overwhelmed and unable to reach out to people, I was able to reach out to my pets. The pets in my life have always been there to soothe me, distract me, and entertain me whenever I needed it most. In exchange for their companionship and attention, I gave them good food, clean water, and a constant supply of belly rubs. Not a bad deal, I think, for either me or my pets.
When my first pet died, I had been living with my diagnosis for about 7 years. Did the loss of my furry friend cause me to relapse? No. She was sick. Her being unwell was very stressful for me, and it gave me comfort to know that she was no longer suffering. Did I cry? Yes. And did I learn something from that experience? Yes. I learned that it is okay to cry, and to cry hard, when you are very sad. I also learned that veterinarians are nice to sad people who have just lost their pets. And so are most other strangers you meet while you are a young girl, on your way home from the vet, crying your eyes out about the loss of your little buddy.
I also learned that the hole that your loved one left behind in death can be filled with other things over the course of time.
More than animals teaching about bereavement, they teach us about relationships and care, and they show us what unconditional love *really* looks like.
So the next time anyone wants to argue that pets cause too much stress for people with an MHC, you need to explain that the rewards are worth the loss - a loss that we all know is inevitable at the end of the day.
Sincerely,
O.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Hoppy New Year!
Dear Revellers,
Alas, it is a New Year. For some of us, it is a new beginning. For some, a time of reflection. For others it is just another day.
I always find New Year's a bit of a mixed blessing. I try hard not to care about the New Year, but it's very hard not to. You see, I was born on the first day of the New Year, and so not only is there a lot of hype rolled into that special calendar year turn over, but there is also an element of aging and age-based reflections that get thrown into the mix.
And so I'm dealt with a bit of a one-two-punch every time this event rolls around.
As a combined New Year/Birthday celebration, some of my friends and I went out to dinner. Inevitably we all began summarizing our year, reflecting on our successes and failures, and outlining conclusions about whether the year was a "good" year or a "bad" year.
For the most part, my friends were positive or benign in their responses, but I answered honestly: I've had a horrible year. For me, 2008 has been the worst year so far in my experience. Considered as a whole, I struggle to find good aspects of the past year.
And I'm not going to rant on about why my year was awful, since some of it is described in this blog; but I do want to talk about the reactions my friends offered after my confession.
Most of them thought I was expressing resignation or sadness about my year. They cooed and said things like, "O, it can't have been that bad! Find something good in it! Don't worry, it will be better this year!"
And I think they made a mistake in assuming where those statements were coming from; I was not complaining or looking for platitudes. I was doing an honest appraisal of the last year of my life.
It sucked. It *was* depressing. I cried over the events of the past year. I tore my hair out, and beat my breast, and got lost in despondency.
I know my friends found my flat (and relatively negative) summary surprising. Surprising maybe because I didn't lightly gloss over the past, and speak only of the positive things, like so many of us are prone to doing. I was being honest, and sometimes, honesty, well... it makes others uncomfortable, I guess.
Despite the discomfort of my friends, it was important for me to be truthful about my experiences. Sometimes life is downright overwhelming, and I think it's important to admit that. And sometimes life is quite ugly, and I think we need to be honest with others about that too.
Pretending that things are great all the time does nothing for us as social beings. Perhaps keeping up illusions of a perfect life experience works in some cases, but I think in most cases, illusions can be destructive and counterproductive. How can people help you, or love you, or give you things if you never ever express a need?
Telling people that life has been difficult helps them to understand why I've been a little standoffish for some time. Explaining to my friends that I've spent a lot of time sitting alone in a corner, licking my wounds, enables them to understand that I haven't actually been a neglectful friend; I've just been working on some difficult problems, and that they should still call, even if I'm too tired or preoccupied to engage in meaningful visit.
And so yes, my year has been shitty. No, I've not been around much. And no, there's nothing anyone can do to fix any of it. Of all the things you can't do, there is still one thing you can do: You can continue to be my friends.
I guess there was one very positive aspect to the last year: My friends. My very kind, very loving, very caring, very understanding, and exceptionally loyal friends.
Cheers to you all! Drinks are on me the next time around!
Your bff who is keeping her chin up,
O.
PS. I do predict that my next year will be immensely better than the last. I have some serious plans to roll out, and some interesting projects on the sidelines!!! Do I have a great job lined up yet... er... well, still working on that one!!!
Alas, it is a New Year. For some of us, it is a new beginning. For some, a time of reflection. For others it is just another day.
I always find New Year's a bit of a mixed blessing. I try hard not to care about the New Year, but it's very hard not to. You see, I was born on the first day of the New Year, and so not only is there a lot of hype rolled into that special calendar year turn over, but there is also an element of aging and age-based reflections that get thrown into the mix.
And so I'm dealt with a bit of a one-two-punch every time this event rolls around.
As a combined New Year/Birthday celebration, some of my friends and I went out to dinner. Inevitably we all began summarizing our year, reflecting on our successes and failures, and outlining conclusions about whether the year was a "good" year or a "bad" year.
For the most part, my friends were positive or benign in their responses, but I answered honestly: I've had a horrible year. For me, 2008 has been the worst year so far in my experience. Considered as a whole, I struggle to find good aspects of the past year.
And I'm not going to rant on about why my year was awful, since some of it is described in this blog; but I do want to talk about the reactions my friends offered after my confession.
Most of them thought I was expressing resignation or sadness about my year. They cooed and said things like, "O, it can't have been that bad! Find something good in it! Don't worry, it will be better this year!"
And I think they made a mistake in assuming where those statements were coming from; I was not complaining or looking for platitudes. I was doing an honest appraisal of the last year of my life.
It sucked. It *was* depressing. I cried over the events of the past year. I tore my hair out, and beat my breast, and got lost in despondency.
I know my friends found my flat (and relatively negative) summary surprising. Surprising maybe because I didn't lightly gloss over the past, and speak only of the positive things, like so many of us are prone to doing. I was being honest, and sometimes, honesty, well... it makes others uncomfortable, I guess.
Despite the discomfort of my friends, it was important for me to be truthful about my experiences. Sometimes life is downright overwhelming, and I think it's important to admit that. And sometimes life is quite ugly, and I think we need to be honest with others about that too.
Pretending that things are great all the time does nothing for us as social beings. Perhaps keeping up illusions of a perfect life experience works in some cases, but I think in most cases, illusions can be destructive and counterproductive. How can people help you, or love you, or give you things if you never ever express a need?
Telling people that life has been difficult helps them to understand why I've been a little standoffish for some time. Explaining to my friends that I've spent a lot of time sitting alone in a corner, licking my wounds, enables them to understand that I haven't actually been a neglectful friend; I've just been working on some difficult problems, and that they should still call, even if I'm too tired or preoccupied to engage in meaningful visit.
And so yes, my year has been shitty. No, I've not been around much. And no, there's nothing anyone can do to fix any of it. Of all the things you can't do, there is still one thing you can do: You can continue to be my friends.
I guess there was one very positive aspect to the last year: My friends. My very kind, very loving, very caring, very understanding, and exceptionally loyal friends.
Cheers to you all! Drinks are on me the next time around!
Your bff who is keeping her chin up,
O.
PS. I do predict that my next year will be immensely better than the last. I have some serious plans to roll out, and some interesting projects on the sidelines!!! Do I have a great job lined up yet... er... well, still working on that one!!!
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Memories of My Era: The Age of Turmoil
Dear People who Sell Fear (and Those who Buy It),
When I hear people describe or reminisce about times gone by, the say things like, "It was the age of innocence!" or "It was the era of the enlightenment!" or "It was the Quiet Revolution!"
It seems that the days of yore have a lot of positive ascriptions. And I wish I would be able to remember my history with as much reverence.
Unfortunately, I don't think I will be able to have a positive regard for the days of my youth. The times I have grown up in are times of confusion, frustration, and of deep dark closets creaking open.
In my short life-span on Earth I have seen major advancements in technology, and I have witnessed how it has torn us apart (as it paradoxically unites us in a vast network). These advancements have motivated people to question our human capacities and motivations; as we now, like never before, have a capacity to do the work of the gods.
I have seen how the scope of war has changed. It seems that wars are just easier to initiate, since all we really need to do is push a few buttons and move around a few big toys. And it seems that wars and strife have become a tool to suit economic needs instead of relieving oppression and promoting freedom. (Although, I'm sure a cynic could argue that most wars, in the end, are about economy, and always have been.)
Relating to the issue of war, North America is currently suffering as the economy reorganizes itself around emerging countries who are introducing new competition; thus destabilizing the status quo. All political figures recognize this as a period of transition, and all are scrambling for control so that their nation will wind up at the top of the heap at the end of the day. (Whenever that comes!) And in their scramble for economic success; leaders are engaging their citizens in battles at home and abroad that are exhausting and tormenting their people.
I'm now watching two countries endure elections. Elections that have major consequences for all. And as I watch the media coverage, all I can see is that the candidates are more interested in pointing out why their opponents are bad choices, instead of why their own candidacy is the good choice. In this, I see our fellow countrymen more divided than ever, and more rigid in opinion and ideology than ever.
To add to the list, political scandal and health and environmental crises compound the problems enough to whip the ordinary citizen into a froth of fear.
It seems the time of innocence is lost; and that our modern era of technology that was once hailed as the new enlightenment has come with a heavy burden: Change. And with change, comes turmoil. Welcome to the age of change; welcome to the era of turmoil.
Hiding behind my hands until it's over,
O.
When I hear people describe or reminisce about times gone by, the say things like, "It was the age of innocence!" or "It was the era of the enlightenment!" or "It was the Quiet Revolution!"
It seems that the days of yore have a lot of positive ascriptions. And I wish I would be able to remember my history with as much reverence.
Unfortunately, I don't think I will be able to have a positive regard for the days of my youth. The times I have grown up in are times of confusion, frustration, and of deep dark closets creaking open.
In my short life-span on Earth I have seen major advancements in technology, and I have witnessed how it has torn us apart (as it paradoxically unites us in a vast network). These advancements have motivated people to question our human capacities and motivations; as we now, like never before, have a capacity to do the work of the gods.
I have seen how the scope of war has changed. It seems that wars are just easier to initiate, since all we really need to do is push a few buttons and move around a few big toys. And it seems that wars and strife have become a tool to suit economic needs instead of relieving oppression and promoting freedom. (Although, I'm sure a cynic could argue that most wars, in the end, are about economy, and always have been.)
Relating to the issue of war, North America is currently suffering as the economy reorganizes itself around emerging countries who are introducing new competition; thus destabilizing the status quo. All political figures recognize this as a period of transition, and all are scrambling for control so that their nation will wind up at the top of the heap at the end of the day. (Whenever that comes!) And in their scramble for economic success; leaders are engaging their citizens in battles at home and abroad that are exhausting and tormenting their people.
I'm now watching two countries endure elections. Elections that have major consequences for all. And as I watch the media coverage, all I can see is that the candidates are more interested in pointing out why their opponents are bad choices, instead of why their own candidacy is the good choice. In this, I see our fellow countrymen more divided than ever, and more rigid in opinion and ideology than ever.
To add to the list, political scandal and health and environmental crises compound the problems enough to whip the ordinary citizen into a froth of fear.
It seems the time of innocence is lost; and that our modern era of technology that was once hailed as the new enlightenment has come with a heavy burden: Change. And with change, comes turmoil. Welcome to the age of change; welcome to the era of turmoil.
Hiding behind my hands until it's over,
O.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Some things I wish I knew years ago...
Dear People who Suffer from Side-Effects Like Nausea, Dry-Mouth, Tiredness, and so on,
When I was first diagnosed over 10 years ago, nobody really told me much. Mind you, I think I was pretty young, and so I'm going to optimistically believe that they just didn't want to burden me with more than I was already dealing with.
I was put on medication pretty much within days of my diagnosis, and while it was clearly explained that there would be side-effects, there was never much followup about what that would mean, and where I could go to find help for my side-effects.
One of the first side-effects I noticed was hunger... I always had a low grade rumble in my belly that felt better when there was food in it. I think this side-effect exacerbates the weight gain problems that happen in a lot of people who take atypical antipsychotics.
My solution for this rumbling was to eat... all the time... but to eat food that had super high amounts of protein - and just to snack perpetually while avoiding large meals. (Since I was feeling consistently fullish from my perpetual snacking.) Luckily, my solution worked, since I managed to combat the rumbles, and I didn't gain significant amounts of weight.
Another negative effect of my medication was sleepiness. I was so tired all the time. My solution was twofold: For many years I arranged my schedule to start my dater later than everyone else so that I could sleep a little longer and to take an afternoon or morning off from school or work during the middle of the week so that I could catch up on sleep. This worked for me as a student and as a part-time worker, but has some pretty obvious limitations in the 9 to 5 working world.
The side-effect that bothered me the most was dry mouth. Because of dry mouth I have had problems with dental decay and with canker sores.
Little did I know up until about a week ago that there are actually products that you can use to help ease dry mouth and its associated problems. Why on earth did no one tell me this?
I remember telling my family doctor and my psychiatrist about dry mouth problems. And I know that more than one dentist pointed out that I may have dry mouth due to some of the things they saw. So why did not one of these health care specialists think to inform me about the things that were available to help this.
As a poor university student I often had to gather my pennies together so that I could get dental work to repair the damage caused by "insufficient oral lubrication." Now as an adult without dental coverage, I find myself still having to pay for dental problems that began long ago.
I really wish that someone would have asked me long ago about my side-effects. I wish they would have been specific in their questions. And mostly, when I complained, or when they noticed something was wrong, I really wish they would have taken it upon themselves to inform me of the things I could do to help make my life easier and more comfortable.
There is a lot of self care that is required when you have a problem of mental health. And sometimes it's just almost too much to bear to deal with the disease itself (and the discrimination issues it often carries). Why have I had to deal with the additional time-consuming burden of experimenting with schedules/organization/products when this information is out there, but just not readily available to me?
Is it time for a What to Do When You're Expecting (A Bout With Mental Health Problems) handbook for psychosis and/or other conditions?
Seriously. Shit. So much of my time and money wasted on problems that could have been solved before they even started!
Tucking her pennies away for another cavity,
O.
When I was first diagnosed over 10 years ago, nobody really told me much. Mind you, I think I was pretty young, and so I'm going to optimistically believe that they just didn't want to burden me with more than I was already dealing with.
I was put on medication pretty much within days of my diagnosis, and while it was clearly explained that there would be side-effects, there was never much followup about what that would mean, and where I could go to find help for my side-effects.
One of the first side-effects I noticed was hunger... I always had a low grade rumble in my belly that felt better when there was food in it. I think this side-effect exacerbates the weight gain problems that happen in a lot of people who take atypical antipsychotics.
My solution for this rumbling was to eat... all the time... but to eat food that had super high amounts of protein - and just to snack perpetually while avoiding large meals. (Since I was feeling consistently fullish from my perpetual snacking.) Luckily, my solution worked, since I managed to combat the rumbles, and I didn't gain significant amounts of weight.
Another negative effect of my medication was sleepiness. I was so tired all the time. My solution was twofold: For many years I arranged my schedule to start my dater later than everyone else so that I could sleep a little longer and to take an afternoon or morning off from school or work during the middle of the week so that I could catch up on sleep. This worked for me as a student and as a part-time worker, but has some pretty obvious limitations in the 9 to 5 working world.
The side-effect that bothered me the most was dry mouth. Because of dry mouth I have had problems with dental decay and with canker sores.
Little did I know up until about a week ago that there are actually products that you can use to help ease dry mouth and its associated problems. Why on earth did no one tell me this?
I remember telling my family doctor and my psychiatrist about dry mouth problems. And I know that more than one dentist pointed out that I may have dry mouth due to some of the things they saw. So why did not one of these health care specialists think to inform me about the things that were available to help this.
As a poor university student I often had to gather my pennies together so that I could get dental work to repair the damage caused by "insufficient oral lubrication." Now as an adult without dental coverage, I find myself still having to pay for dental problems that began long ago.
I really wish that someone would have asked me long ago about my side-effects. I wish they would have been specific in their questions. And mostly, when I complained, or when they noticed something was wrong, I really wish they would have taken it upon themselves to inform me of the things I could do to help make my life easier and more comfortable.
There is a lot of self care that is required when you have a problem of mental health. And sometimes it's just almost too much to bear to deal with the disease itself (and the discrimination issues it often carries). Why have I had to deal with the additional time-consuming burden of experimenting with schedules/organization/products when this information is out there, but just not readily available to me?
Is it time for a What to Do When You're Expecting (A Bout With Mental Health Problems) handbook for psychosis and/or other conditions?
Seriously. Shit. So much of my time and money wasted on problems that could have been solved before they even started!
Tucking her pennies away for another cavity,
O.
Monday, August 4, 2008
What do they see when they start on their path?
Dear People With "Lived Experience,"
Little hypothetical story here to clarify the nature of this post:
Okay, so say you're 20ish or something. And you've been dealing with some problems of hearing voices, and thinking that people are out to get you. And maybe you've been hiding away from people and neglecting your hygiene.
Somebody says, let's get you to a doctor to see what's up.
So you go. You do some tests. Some of them are pencil and paper tests. Some of them are verbal tests. Some of them are performance tests. Maybe others are medical tests.
Tests come back, everyone's suspicions are confirmed: you are now diagnosed with a condition you've only heard about in the movies. Schizophrenia or maybe even Bi-polar if you have some cycling going on.
/story.
So you look at your life. What do you see?
Based on the media, it's not a rosy picture.
Based on public perceptions, it doesn't seem to be any rosier of a picture.
Based on the statistical likelihood of being gainfully employed, well, the picture is just nosediving now.
Based on discriminatory laws across the world the picture just sinks to unfathomable proportions. (limitations of travel, limitations on insurance, limitations on housing, limitations on employment, limitations on serving your country or your community, limitations imposed by the way the legal system is organized... limitations, limitations, limitations... )
So with a diagnosis, I see a lot of limitations. Funny thing is, I only see these limitations after living with my diagnosis for 11 years. I'm no longer a child living under anyone's protective wing. I'm an adult, trying to carve out a life for myself. When I was younger and living with my diagnosis, these things just didn't affect me, since I didn't really have to move outside of my comfort zone too much.
To be honest my diagnosis is fucking hard to deal with in the real world... The real world being the world that dictates that I need to find a job because I have bills to pay, and I need to feed myself and my ravenous furkids. The real world that makes me crave the companionship, friendship, and intimacy of a lover. The real world that tells me that one day I may want to have children, and god forbid, achievable dreams! (The real world that tells me that all of these things are "healthy" and are "milestones of recovery.") And now that I'm starting out in my adult life, I'm seeing exactly how profound my limitations are. And I'm seeing the barriers that life forces me to hurdle just to reach those milestones... achievements that seem relatively effortless for people standing on the other side of the fence.
And the paradox in all of this is that I've tried to find the best place for me in this world. I shaped my life consciously from the time I was diagnosed to find a place where I would have the greatest likelihood for personal and economic success for someone of my education and experience. And so I thought I found my "place." And I'm looking at that place, I'm standing on the threshold watching everyone move around and interact in that place, and I still don't fit in. I'm beginning to think I just don't fit in anywhere.
Too sick for the "real" world. Too healthy for the services and amenities provided to people who live with a diagnosis like mine. Too different ideologically from the people who are trying to build a new, supposedly inclusive, system... a "new" system that paradoxically believes that by labelling me and "outing" me, it is setting me free.
I'm not trying to get anyone down. I'm not trying to make anyone feel helpless, even though I'm feeling a little helpless at the moment.
I think what I'm asking is: What can we do about it?
How do we fix this?
Why do I, after living with this disease for 12 years... after spending nearly 12 years learning how to cope and make sure that I am the healthiest person I can be... why do I have to deal with THESE particular issues now?
These "particular issues" being issues that relate exclusively to social injustice and discrimination.
If the disease itself doesn't kill you, the injustices that come along with it certainly will.
When we talk about suicide and the despair of mental illness; the despair isn't having to live with the disease. The despair isn't really about having to wrestle with symptoms or deal with medications.
The despair is about the social injustices we confront. The social injustices that affect us on a day to day basis. The social injustices that tell me that I'm not equal to every other person in the country I live in.
This is what kills us off when we stare down that long tunnel of life.
What do WE do? This issue is bigger than me. This issue feels stronger than me. I'm at a loss. I really am.
My instinct is to fight. But what does that mean? What am I fighting? Who am I fighting? How long is the fight going to be? What will it cost me, and what will it achieve?
I keep telling myself before I go to bed that when I wake up, tomorrow will be a better, brighter day. Tomorrow I will wake up, and I won't have to worry about my safety, my comfort, or my security.
I think the only thing that keeps me going is my hope for the future, since my present is a very grim place.
Keeping my fingers crossed for a brighter day (and sorry if I killed your buzz!),
O.
PS:
*tomorrow will be a better day, tomorrow will be a better day, tomorrow will be a better day, tomorrow will be a better day, tomorrow will be a better day, tomorrow will be a better day, tomorrow wil be a better day... *
Little hypothetical story here to clarify the nature of this post:
Okay, so say you're 20ish or something. And you've been dealing with some problems of hearing voices, and thinking that people are out to get you. And maybe you've been hiding away from people and neglecting your hygiene.
Somebody says, let's get you to a doctor to see what's up.
So you go. You do some tests. Some of them are pencil and paper tests. Some of them are verbal tests. Some of them are performance tests. Maybe others are medical tests.
Tests come back, everyone's suspicions are confirmed: you are now diagnosed with a condition you've only heard about in the movies. Schizophrenia or maybe even Bi-polar if you have some cycling going on.
/story.
So you look at your life. What do you see?
Based on the media, it's not a rosy picture.
Based on public perceptions, it doesn't seem to be any rosier of a picture.
Based on the statistical likelihood of being gainfully employed, well, the picture is just nosediving now.
Based on discriminatory laws across the world the picture just sinks to unfathomable proportions. (limitations of travel, limitations on insurance, limitations on housing, limitations on employment, limitations on serving your country or your community, limitations imposed by the way the legal system is organized... limitations, limitations, limitations... )
So with a diagnosis, I see a lot of limitations. Funny thing is, I only see these limitations after living with my diagnosis for 11 years. I'm no longer a child living under anyone's protective wing. I'm an adult, trying to carve out a life for myself. When I was younger and living with my diagnosis, these things just didn't affect me, since I didn't really have to move outside of my comfort zone too much.
To be honest my diagnosis is fucking hard to deal with in the real world... The real world being the world that dictates that I need to find a job because I have bills to pay, and I need to feed myself and my ravenous furkids. The real world that makes me crave the companionship, friendship, and intimacy of a lover. The real world that tells me that one day I may want to have children, and god forbid, achievable dreams! (The real world that tells me that all of these things are "healthy" and are "milestones of recovery.") And now that I'm starting out in my adult life, I'm seeing exactly how profound my limitations are. And I'm seeing the barriers that life forces me to hurdle just to reach those milestones... achievements that seem relatively effortless for people standing on the other side of the fence.
And the paradox in all of this is that I've tried to find the best place for me in this world. I shaped my life consciously from the time I was diagnosed to find a place where I would have the greatest likelihood for personal and economic success for someone of my education and experience. And so I thought I found my "place." And I'm looking at that place, I'm standing on the threshold watching everyone move around and interact in that place, and I still don't fit in. I'm beginning to think I just don't fit in anywhere.
Too sick for the "real" world. Too healthy for the services and amenities provided to people who live with a diagnosis like mine. Too different ideologically from the people who are trying to build a new, supposedly inclusive, system... a "new" system that paradoxically believes that by labelling me and "outing" me, it is setting me free.
I'm not trying to get anyone down. I'm not trying to make anyone feel helpless, even though I'm feeling a little helpless at the moment.
I think what I'm asking is: What can we do about it?
How do we fix this?
Why do I, after living with this disease for 12 years... after spending nearly 12 years learning how to cope and make sure that I am the healthiest person I can be... why do I have to deal with THESE particular issues now?
These "particular issues" being issues that relate exclusively to social injustice and discrimination.
If the disease itself doesn't kill you, the injustices that come along with it certainly will.
When we talk about suicide and the despair of mental illness; the despair isn't having to live with the disease. The despair isn't really about having to wrestle with symptoms or deal with medications.
The despair is about the social injustices we confront. The social injustices that affect us on a day to day basis. The social injustices that tell me that I'm not equal to every other person in the country I live in.
This is what kills us off when we stare down that long tunnel of life.
What do WE do? This issue is bigger than me. This issue feels stronger than me. I'm at a loss. I really am.
My instinct is to fight. But what does that mean? What am I fighting? Who am I fighting? How long is the fight going to be? What will it cost me, and what will it achieve?
I keep telling myself before I go to bed that when I wake up, tomorrow will be a better, brighter day. Tomorrow I will wake up, and I won't have to worry about my safety, my comfort, or my security.
I think the only thing that keeps me going is my hope for the future, since my present is a very grim place.
Keeping my fingers crossed for a brighter day (and sorry if I killed your buzz!),
O.
PS:
*tomorrow will be a better day, tomorrow will be a better day, tomorrow will be a better day, tomorrow will be a better day, tomorrow will be a better day, tomorrow will be a better day, tomorrow wil be a better day... *
Dear Cruel World
Dear Fellow Sufferers,
Yes, folks, the world is a cruel place.
I hate to post after such a long time and be so cryptic, but life is such at the moment that every place I turn to I have nowhere to rest my weary soul.
I'm tired.
I want stability.
I want to know that I will be able to have a roof over my head.
I want to know that I will have food in my mouth.
I want to know that I can have the life I dream of having, and have the life that is promised to every person who "plans" and "does the right thing." (Whatever that is!)
I'm not asking for big things here. I just want to have some shelter, and some food, and someone to keep me warm at night. I want to be able to dream about the things that other folks get to dream about... like having kids, maybe going for a trip somewhere, maybe I'd even dare to dream of the things I'd like to accomplish before I kick the bucket.
I want to know that people can love me and be in my life without sacrificing their own lives and security.
I just want to know that it's going to work out, for all involved.
If this were only about me, I really wouldn't care. But there're others involved. And it bothers me that everyone who touches me needs to think twice before they can do anything with their lives.
I've done the best I can. Really I have. Now it's your turn to hold up YOUR end of the bargain.
Please. Just do the right thing. All of you.
Sincerely,
O.
Yes, folks, the world is a cruel place.
I hate to post after such a long time and be so cryptic, but life is such at the moment that every place I turn to I have nowhere to rest my weary soul.
I'm tired.
I want stability.
I want to know that I will be able to have a roof over my head.
I want to know that I will have food in my mouth.
I want to know that I can have the life I dream of having, and have the life that is promised to every person who "plans" and "does the right thing." (Whatever that is!)
I'm not asking for big things here. I just want to have some shelter, and some food, and someone to keep me warm at night. I want to be able to dream about the things that other folks get to dream about... like having kids, maybe going for a trip somewhere, maybe I'd even dare to dream of the things I'd like to accomplish before I kick the bucket.
I want to know that people can love me and be in my life without sacrificing their own lives and security.
I just want to know that it's going to work out, for all involved.
If this were only about me, I really wouldn't care. But there're others involved. And it bothers me that everyone who touches me needs to think twice before they can do anything with their lives.
I've done the best I can. Really I have. Now it's your turn to hold up YOUR end of the bargain.
Please. Just do the right thing. All of you.
Sincerely,
O.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
olivia is a tired hamster...
Dear fellow hamsters,
Today I am tired. Tired of jogging in that perpetually spinning wheel of life, doggedly chasing... well... not much. I'm tired of organizing the details, details which are inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. (Although, there really is no 'grand scheme' that I can see.) And I'm tired of desperately trying to keep it together, when the natural propulsion of my current life events actually wants to cause things to unravel and erode.
I am tired of feeling sick, and tired of feeling tired. And I'm tired of trying not to look sick and tired. And I am tired of making excuses for why I feel sick and tired.
I'm tired of feeling guilty, like I can never do enough, and when I do do enough, it somehow winds up not being enough, or it is the wrong thing. And I'm just plain tired of trying to please and invest in others, with no hope of a return.
And I'm just plain tired. Understand? Just let me sleep without calling, without asking for something, without making me feel like I need to be doing something. For one day, maybe a week, just let me sleep.
Off to take a nap,
O.
Today I am tired. Tired of jogging in that perpetually spinning wheel of life, doggedly chasing... well... not much. I'm tired of organizing the details, details which are inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. (Although, there really is no 'grand scheme' that I can see.) And I'm tired of desperately trying to keep it together, when the natural propulsion of my current life events actually wants to cause things to unravel and erode.
I am tired of feeling sick, and tired of feeling tired. And I'm tired of trying not to look sick and tired. And I am tired of making excuses for why I feel sick and tired.
I'm tired of feeling guilty, like I can never do enough, and when I do do enough, it somehow winds up not being enough, or it is the wrong thing. And I'm just plain tired of trying to please and invest in others, with no hope of a return.
And I'm just plain tired. Understand? Just let me sleep without calling, without asking for something, without making me feel like I need to be doing something. For one day, maybe a week, just let me sleep.
Off to take a nap,
O.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
keeping it together, even when i really just can't!
Dear fellow savers of face (you know who you are!),
I like to "save face." Saving face means that you are in a position where you have lost some element of your personal dignity, and you try to recover a shred of that dignity in whatever way you can.
Say for example you go to pay for your groceries at the store. You know you don't have much money in your account, but you're pretty sure you have enough to pay for the groceries you've picked out. You swipe the card, tap in your PIN, and wait... wait... then the machine beeps and flashes "Insufficient Funds!"
What do you do?
It's pretty rare for anyone to say, "Oh, shit! Look how poor I am! I can't even afford $20 worth of groceries!"
Usually a person will say something to the effect of, "Aw, crap, my cheque didn't go through!" or, "What the? My boss was supposed to deposit my pay! What an ass!"
Then you either whip out a credit card (if you have one), or scrounge through your purse to pay part cash and part debit, or (horror of all horrors) you slink away from the register and abandon your groceries whilst muttering excuses.
My version of saving face is a system of survival unto its own.
I grew up po'. I grew up po' and went to school with all the rich kids in town.
When you grow up surrounded by kids with all the right clothes, who live on the right side of town, in the right houses, you sort of develop a complex.
Growing up with all these kids who had all "the toys" was not easy. (Mind you, it was easier pre-ipod, pre-cellphone, and pre-laptop, and so on.) I worried a lot about fitting in.
It was pretty easy to hide the fact that my family lived in a not-so-nice apartment... all I had to do was make sure that no one came around to visit me. It was pretty easy to hide the fact that I was not up with the latest video games... all I had to do was pretend that studying and playing were more important than games.
It was a lot harder to hide the fact that I simply looked different from the other kids. Those kids had the brand name clothes, and the expensive shoes, and the pretty jewelry, and the funky new accessories.
I did not have those things. But I tried. Confronted with the "indignities" of poverty (or relative poverty), I tried to save face.
I learned very quickly that if you don't "look right" then you won't fit in. So at a very tender age, I became meticulously focused on my appearance. I tried to always look nice... to take care of my hair, to keep my clothes clean and fresh looking, to make sure that my outfits always matched and fit me well. I even went so far to harass my financially stretched family to go out and buy me some of those brand name clothes... I wound up with some second hand brand name sweaters that I was thrilled with!
When I was diagnosed, so many moons ago, with psychosis, that meticulousness, and how it had kept me socially viable (when I might have otherwise stuck out like a sore thumb), stuck with me.
Psychosis imposes enormous indignities on the people who live with it. Psychosis causes symptoms that seem strange or frightening to those not familiar with the disease. People who live with psychosis often face discrimination as a result of the ignorance and mythology that persist about this condition. The media, our friends, and even our families claim that murderers, rapists, and molesters must be "insane;" inadvertently diminishing the dignity of every single person who is truly afflicted with the condition of psychosis by placing perverse criminals in the same category as someone with a serious and life-altering biological disease.
So I knew that this disorder would somehow affect or at the very least distort my personal sense of dignity. And I knew I had to save face (again).
I knew very deep inside of me that I could not "look" sick. I knew that people would judge me if I somehow looked "different" from everyone else. My hair could never be unkempt in public. My outfits always had to be perfect. I always had to be properly dressed and accessorized for every occasion... even if I did not feel like it... even if I really could not afford it.
Now, as an adult, living on my own, this sense of "saving face" takes on a whole new meaning.
I sit here, seven days into a flu (now on the healing end, I hope!) and I look around me and think, "What can I do to make this place look better?" Because for some reason, to me, if *I* look good (and by extension, my surroundings look good), then all must be well... even when all most definitely isn't well.
So everyone, please know, that sometimes looks are deceiving. Even when someone looks great, when they're home looks wonderful, and when they seem to have it all together, that person may be hiding behind appearances, hoping that no one will notice what is going on underneath.
I have to go clean something now.
Always hiding, even when I'm too tired to hide,
O.
I like to "save face." Saving face means that you are in a position where you have lost some element of your personal dignity, and you try to recover a shred of that dignity in whatever way you can.
Say for example you go to pay for your groceries at the store. You know you don't have much money in your account, but you're pretty sure you have enough to pay for the groceries you've picked out. You swipe the card, tap in your PIN, and wait... wait... then the machine beeps and flashes "Insufficient Funds!"
What do you do?
It's pretty rare for anyone to say, "Oh, shit! Look how poor I am! I can't even afford $20 worth of groceries!"
Usually a person will say something to the effect of, "Aw, crap, my cheque didn't go through!" or, "What the? My boss was supposed to deposit my pay! What an ass!"
Then you either whip out a credit card (if you have one), or scrounge through your purse to pay part cash and part debit, or (horror of all horrors) you slink away from the register and abandon your groceries whilst muttering excuses.
My version of saving face is a system of survival unto its own.
I grew up po'. I grew up po' and went to school with all the rich kids in town.
When you grow up surrounded by kids with all the right clothes, who live on the right side of town, in the right houses, you sort of develop a complex.
Growing up with all these kids who had all "the toys" was not easy. (Mind you, it was easier pre-ipod, pre-cellphone, and pre-laptop, and so on.) I worried a lot about fitting in.
It was pretty easy to hide the fact that my family lived in a not-so-nice apartment... all I had to do was make sure that no one came around to visit me. It was pretty easy to hide the fact that I was not up with the latest video games... all I had to do was pretend that studying and playing were more important than games.
It was a lot harder to hide the fact that I simply looked different from the other kids. Those kids had the brand name clothes, and the expensive shoes, and the pretty jewelry, and the funky new accessories.
I did not have those things. But I tried. Confronted with the "indignities" of poverty (or relative poverty), I tried to save face.
I learned very quickly that if you don't "look right" then you won't fit in. So at a very tender age, I became meticulously focused on my appearance. I tried to always look nice... to take care of my hair, to keep my clothes clean and fresh looking, to make sure that my outfits always matched and fit me well. I even went so far to harass my financially stretched family to go out and buy me some of those brand name clothes... I wound up with some second hand brand name sweaters that I was thrilled with!
When I was diagnosed, so many moons ago, with psychosis, that meticulousness, and how it had kept me socially viable (when I might have otherwise stuck out like a sore thumb), stuck with me.
Psychosis imposes enormous indignities on the people who live with it. Psychosis causes symptoms that seem strange or frightening to those not familiar with the disease. People who live with psychosis often face discrimination as a result of the ignorance and mythology that persist about this condition. The media, our friends, and even our families claim that murderers, rapists, and molesters must be "insane;" inadvertently diminishing the dignity of every single person who is truly afflicted with the condition of psychosis by placing perverse criminals in the same category as someone with a serious and life-altering biological disease.
So I knew that this disorder would somehow affect or at the very least distort my personal sense of dignity. And I knew I had to save face (again).
I knew very deep inside of me that I could not "look" sick. I knew that people would judge me if I somehow looked "different" from everyone else. My hair could never be unkempt in public. My outfits always had to be perfect. I always had to be properly dressed and accessorized for every occasion... even if I did not feel like it... even if I really could not afford it.
Now, as an adult, living on my own, this sense of "saving face" takes on a whole new meaning.
I sit here, seven days into a flu (now on the healing end, I hope!) and I look around me and think, "What can I do to make this place look better?" Because for some reason, to me, if *I* look good (and by extension, my surroundings look good), then all must be well... even when all most definitely isn't well.
So everyone, please know, that sometimes looks are deceiving. Even when someone looks great, when they're home looks wonderful, and when they seem to have it all together, that person may be hiding behind appearances, hoping that no one will notice what is going on underneath.
I have to go clean something now.
Always hiding, even when I'm too tired to hide,
O.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
dignity is hard to come by...
Dear fans of music and people who feel the burn of daily life,
I love a good line. Some people just really know how to say something, without needing to say much.
I love these lyrics by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah:
"So go salvage some of your human dignity,
'cause it'll be a long hard road."
For some reason, I think that people don't think enough of themselves. The ennui of daily life, with all the complaints, and aggressions, and all the saddness, and the irritations... the ennui eats away at us a little, day by day, by day.
We don't see our sadness or frustration or anger. We don't see that we are leaden with the burdens of our daily lives. These ennuis build up slowly, like grains of sand on a table. As we move about our lives, the grains are added, one by one, by one... until the legs of the table begin to wobble beneath the weight of its burdens.
These song lyrics remind me, that no matter what negative things happen in my daily life, I am human, and I deserve respect, kindness, and to be treated in a manner that is free of judgment or stereotyped thinking. Nobody has a right to impose their burdens, anger, or general shit on me.
So every day, I salvage my dignity by standing up for my beliefs and convictions, by commanding respect from those who would rather put me down than see me as an equal, and by offering the same dignities to every single person I meet... respect, kindness, and freedom from judgment and discrimination.
Forever yours, in dignity and in respect,
O.
I love a good line. Some people just really know how to say something, without needing to say much.
I love these lyrics by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah:
"So go salvage some of your human dignity,
'cause it'll be a long hard road."
For some reason, I think that people don't think enough of themselves. The ennui of daily life, with all the complaints, and aggressions, and all the saddness, and the irritations... the ennui eats away at us a little, day by day, by day.
We don't see our sadness or frustration or anger. We don't see that we are leaden with the burdens of our daily lives. These ennuis build up slowly, like grains of sand on a table. As we move about our lives, the grains are added, one by one, by one... until the legs of the table begin to wobble beneath the weight of its burdens.
These song lyrics remind me, that no matter what negative things happen in my daily life, I am human, and I deserve respect, kindness, and to be treated in a manner that is free of judgment or stereotyped thinking. Nobody has a right to impose their burdens, anger, or general shit on me.
So every day, I salvage my dignity by standing up for my beliefs and convictions, by commanding respect from those who would rather put me down than see me as an equal, and by offering the same dignities to every single person I meet... respect, kindness, and freedom from judgment and discrimination.
Forever yours, in dignity and in respect,
O.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
after the rain comes a rainbow... in the form of kitties!
Dear Sun Worshipers and Lovers of All Things Cute and Fluffy,
Two things that will brighten your day and effectively kill some time (and maybe some brain cells!):
An Engineer's Guide to Cats - this will rob your life of 7 very happy minutes.
The Mean Kitty Song - this will make your life feel like it is 3.5 happy minutes shorter.
Both of these are YouTube vidz. Just click on the grey text, and it should go straight to the video. Don't forget to give the videos some time to load.
Forever the optimist, even when I don't really feel like being one,
O.
PS. Sorry for all of the heavy posts so early on in the game!
Two things that will brighten your day and effectively kill some time (and maybe some brain cells!):
An Engineer's Guide to Cats - this will rob your life of 7 very happy minutes.
The Mean Kitty Song - this will make your life feel like it is 3.5 happy minutes shorter.
Both of these are YouTube vidz. Just click on the grey text, and it should go straight to the video. Don't forget to give the videos some time to load.
Forever the optimist, even when I don't really feel like being one,
O.
PS. Sorry for all of the heavy posts so early on in the game!
Sunday, April 20, 2008
dear people who post on postsecret.com
Dear postsecret.com poster,
You said this (posted on the April 20/2008 edition of postsecret.com):
"When my schizophrenic brother finally succeeded after 15 years of suicide attempts, I was relieved."
As a person who was diagnosed with schizophrenia, and who has successfully managed the condition for over 10 years, I want you to know, that reading this statement made a part of me die a little.
Please understand that I know that I am a burden to my family, and to society in general. And please understand that I know that my actions can cause problems, stress, and pain.
I already know this. Why do you have to reinforce how shitty I am and how much people like myself make your life miserable?
You need to know that this is why we kill ourselves. We despair and we suicide because we are acutely aware that we cause problems (for ourselves, and for the people we love). We suicide because mental illness HURTS everyone it touches and that pain is often unrelenting.
You need to know that mental illness hurts its sufferers from the bottom of our toenails to the top of the hairs on our heads. I'm not talking about a literal pain; I am talking about a relentless ontological throb that we endure from our daily toils in a fast, competitive, and unforgiving world that cries for conformity (and punishes those who do not fit neatly into those compartments you have all neatly sorted out for yourselves).
Please realize that I can understand where this sentiment comes from, and that I respect your feelings, but fuck, what about me?
My sympathies for your loss,
O.
You said this (posted on the April 20/2008 edition of postsecret.com):
"When my schizophrenic brother finally succeeded after 15 years of suicide attempts, I was relieved."
As a person who was diagnosed with schizophrenia, and who has successfully managed the condition for over 10 years, I want you to know, that reading this statement made a part of me die a little.
Please understand that I know that I am a burden to my family, and to society in general. And please understand that I know that my actions can cause problems, stress, and pain.
I already know this. Why do you have to reinforce how shitty I am and how much people like myself make your life miserable?
You need to know that this is why we kill ourselves. We despair and we suicide because we are acutely aware that we cause problems (for ourselves, and for the people we love). We suicide because mental illness HURTS everyone it touches and that pain is often unrelenting.
You need to know that mental illness hurts its sufferers from the bottom of our toenails to the top of the hairs on our heads. I'm not talking about a literal pain; I am talking about a relentless ontological throb that we endure from our daily toils in a fast, competitive, and unforgiving world that cries for conformity (and punishes those who do not fit neatly into those compartments you have all neatly sorted out for yourselves).
Please realize that I can understand where this sentiment comes from, and that I respect your feelings, but fuck, what about me?
My sympathies for your loss,
O.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
