I would like to begin this writing by stating all of my comments herein are based on my experiences within the mental healthcare industry. They are not based on what is loosely termed these days as “fact”. It is MY experience and my opinions within this writing. It is my blog and my domain name, is it not?
From the time I was a teenager I have off and on been involved as a patient, consumer or whatever the term is that they are using these days, of mental health. At the beginning of my experience I found mental healthcare to be safe, effective and comfortable. In otherwords, I was a proponent of it when needed.
When I reached my mid 30’s things had changed with my experience in this industry. I found that talk therapy was much less effective and medications….oh, hell, let’s be honest here and call them for what they are…drugs were relied on much more often than in the past.
In my later efforts to improve my mental health I began to notice that I was not being taken seriously during my therapy sessions. Instead of hearing me my therapists were listening to my ex-husband despite the fact that he was never the patient. I began to notice that much of the “advice” which my therapists were offering were, word for word, that of my husband. My suspicion level rose and therapy was no longer helpful in my effort to better my life.
Now, drugs may be a sticky subject. I am not a huge fan of them and some of you may say that at times they are needed…this could be true; however, passing them out like candy on Halloween night is never a good thing. Drugs in mental health are way too often used as bandaids. Let’s cover up the problem, not heal it.
I found that I am so sensitives to drugs that I have suffered side effects which have less than 1% of a chance of ocurring. Not a good idea for “patients” such as myself. I also began to notice that I not only did not feel like myself, I did not act like myself.
What I mean by this is that I no longer had my own thoughts and opinions, my creativity was non-existent, my energy level was so low I cared about nothing and I was more pliable to the whims others than ever before. Not to mention that physically I never felt well. How convenient!
My friends and family seemed happy with the new “Michelle”. One friend even mentioned that I did so much better on drugs. I began to realize that in our society zobbiesm is preferred over being depressed about situations, be it personal or global, which are so wrong you cannot tolerate it.
Somewhere around the age of 40 I decided that none of this served me and I missed the real Michelle. I stopped going to therapy and taking psychiatric drugs. Immediately, I began to feel back to myself, the bloatedness and weight melted off, I had energy and had thoughts and opinions of my very own.
I saw this very thing happen with my children also. Since it was more prevalent with my younger son I would like to use him as an example.
My youngest son was born with leadership qualities. He always thinks for himself and is strong willed. If a rule or law does not make sense he questions it and, in childhood, would often not comply. He was eventually diagnosed with oppositional defiance disorder. Although there were reasons within our family unit which caused my poor son to have behavior problems, his true nature of leadership and thinking for himself are qualities I was proud of and still am to this day.
He was sent to the special school programs for children (mostly boys) like him. What I found was these “professionals” (many young and childless) felt they knew my son better than I. Many times my son and I proved these teachers wrong. They tried so hard to get my son to comply, to become something he wasn’t and he just wasn’t having it.
They also wished to put my son on medication. Because I was still naive and stuck in the system, I thought it would be a good idea in helping my child. My ex-husband, on the other hand, was against our son being medicated.
This was one argument which I am grateful my ex-husband won. My son once told me that he was happy he never took the psychiatric drugs because he knew that if he had, he never would have done and experienced what he had in his life thus far. The drugs would have made him someone he was not and they would have stolen my true child from me and left me with a zombie.
In conclusion, in my humble opinion, based on my experience and that of what I witnessed with my son, psychology and psychiatry is for the sole purpose to get the “patient” to comply. It is not to help you achieve your hightest and best you in this life but is designed to make you sit down, shut up and do what the mainstream wishes you to do.
I was hoping that things had changed since I last was in the mental health system; however, today a psychologist mentioned (without my inquiring) that my perceptions of this industry are, indeed, correct.
Buy this witch a brew so she can continue to work her magick teaching others about their worth and power!
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