Friday, October 26, 2012

Getting on my soap box - in re: the myth(s) of mental illness

Just got done sending off a letter to a dear grade school class mate of mine, thaking him for a wonderful day at the Pontiac Elks Golf Club.

Hi Bill,

Good heavens, it was so thoughtful of you to give me your greens fees prize and to pop for lunch. As you may have guessed, my financial circumstances are, well, not good (understatement!), but with my Social Security Supplemental Disability Income (personally, take it from me, I am NOT disabled, but I have been labeled (many things) bi-polar, no doubt you've seen evidence of it by way of my eratic behavior in your presence (this is pure irony on my part), and it is virtually impossible to recover from that particular label (if ANYBODY can do it, however, it WILL BE ME; it is one of my life's ambitions - to explode the myths of "mental illness" - all of which hypothecate a thing called "the mind" (as distinct from the brain) that gets "disordered thoughts" which get promoted to sickness, which has a canon of literature self-validating it (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Psychiatric and Personality Disorders), and which include (or have included) such things as: chain smoking, excessive masturbation, homosexuality, bad msth skills, bad writing skills, etc, etc, etc, which are diseases of "the mind" which we cannot find (because there is no post-mortem autopsy you can perform on anyone subject to the diagnosis which will point you to the physical marker -diseased organ, corrupted blood counts, etc, broken limb, etc, which explains away the subject's (victim's) bad behavior - but, or course the subject (victim) MUST have a disease, because that explains the bad behavior, and because he HAS this disease, he is not responsible for his bad behavior (and, apparnetly, neither is anyone else), and because we know that if we give the subject (victim) "the right medication (we might kill him trying to find it, but there is usually one out there)" in the "right dosage (sadly, the therapuetic level and the fatal dosage levels are so close)" the subject (victim) will stop behaving in a manner that upsets SOME PEOPLE (and some people only - other people can be remarkably tolerant, or might even have done everything the subject (victim) ever did or even thought of doing), and thus, the disease (dis-ease is NOT wrong) will be in remission, but, the disease, of course, is terminal (perpetual, chronic) and the patient will ALWAYS have to take medication, lest, THE BEAST escape.

For the record, I haven't taken any meds since August, 2011, shortly after mom died, and I was released from a mental hospital, and have stayed out of trouble with the law, and pretty much avoided intense interactions (except with my idiot social worker).

Not everyone with my diagnosis can make my claims, and many indeed are helped by the meds. It's just that the whole damn thing is SO subjective. The last psychiatrist I saw, by the way, said, "Well, since you don't want to take medications, and since your dress is appropriate, your speech is appropriate, and your manners are appropriate, I'm not going to try to get you to take them."

In point of fact, neuroscience has made many strides in helping to understand the so-called "mental illnesses" in a far more scientific fashion (psychology / psychiatry, at one time blamed mothers of autistic children FOR the child's autism - these were called "Refrigerator Mothers"), so, there is a LONG way to go.

Well, off my soap box.

Thanks again for a wonderful day on the links.

Man, did it ever get BITTER last night! Nonetheless, Ralph and I PLAYED today, starting out in 38 degree weather, and finishing up in 47. I shot 39-42, and the damn 42 included a double and a triple, sheesh, I can be SUCH an idtiot (yeah, the eight one putt greens really WERE the difference, although, there WAS a two-chipped, AND a three-chipper, which I also 3-putted, should have waited for dad to bring the cart around and used a five iron to punch under the tree limbs, rather than trying to hood a 9-iron. It was Ugh-Lee squared.

Hope all is well in your worlds.

As always, good health, peace, and blessings upon you and also upon all of the ones you love, and also unto all of the ones that love you.