Generalisations Can be Harmful to Stigma: Psychiatric Hosptials

After BB posted the link to the article of a person's account of their friends stay in a psychiatric hospital, it got me thinking. If you would like to read the article then it can be found here.
 

I really struggled with the gross over generalisations that were made in this article.  Things that could easily be seem as scare mongering.  Imagine being a person whose psychiatrist has suggested you have some time in a psychiatric ward and you read this article. It's likely to make you shy away from even thinking of the prospect.  Being inside a psychiatric facility isn't easy, it's far from it but that is because you are working on issues that are plaguing your mind, stripping yourself bare and starting again. A psychiatric facility is sometimes the only safe place that you can do that.
 

I get the impression from the article that the writer's friend was in a private facility. Something that I have no experience with.  There were somethings in the article that did ring true for a public hospital but they were still gross generalisations.  I have seen patients who looked like walking zombies.  These patients were violent when not medicated. I have also seen these patients months down the track, once the medication is settled and they are a completely different person. They have gone from a person with delusions, suicidal behaviour, someone who couldn't function in society, to someone who you could sit down and have a conversation with. They are someone who can string words together. They are the good outcome of the psychiatric facility. 
 

Comparing the modern day facilities to One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest is just the tip of the iceberg.  While some nurses and doctors really shouldn't be in the profession anymore as their passion is gone, this is no reflection on the end result that a stay in a psychiatric ward strives for.  The author saw a glimpse in a persons journey.  She had no idea how far they had come or how far they had to go. 
 

The comments of the writer about her friend being 'normal' except for needing to be in a psychiatric facility are extremely harmful for the fight of stigma removal. Everyone is 'normal' until they suffer from life event that renders them helpless.  There is no shame in needing to be hospitalised. 
 

‘Everybody hates being here. People talk about killing themselves, not because they want to die but because they want to get out of the hospital’, said my friend Julie.
 

I have no idea on the amount of times that I have been admitted but I would say it would be over 20 times.  Some of these stays have been for a month at a time.  Not once have I seen a patient express these words.  I do wonder if they have been twisted. It was a common thread amongst depressed patients that they just wanted to get 'so that they could kill themselves' and so the hospital kept them in. It was not the hospital itself causing these thoughts, but the depression. They were already suicidal before coming into hospital and saw the people who were trying to help them as one more road block to their desire to be gone from this world.
 

The author of this article has no medical training, and yet commented on the medications that her friend was allowed to take.  The Drs and Nurses in a psychiatric facility want things to run as smoothly as possible.  They are not there to make your life difficult (even though it may seem like it when you are being admitted) but to keep you and the other patients safe.  They will give you the medication that will fit your medical needs. Just because one med worked for another, does not mean that it will work for you. 
 

This whole article just did not sit right with me, especially being from the friend of a friend in a psychiatric facility's perspective.  She was an outsider looking in.  She had no idea the issues that the other women were facing, or why they looked scared and unsure.  It can be pretty daunting to go into a strange place, even without suffering a mental illness. Add to the mix anxiety and you are bound to get a few people who look like a deer caught in headlights.  It may have come across more realistic if the friend had written it.  Seeing a glimpse of a ward, during visiting hours is not the same as staying in the ward.
 

The article has really done nothing to help the stigma that people feel about the 'looney bin'.  It saddens me that in 2013, we are still facing such close minded views. Views of those people who are looking from the outside, and get to go home to their cookie cutter life at the end of the day, not realising the damage that their words have done. 

Sleep is for the weak...apparently

It's finally the end of the longest week in the history of long weeks.  That also means that it's FFS Friday time again.  Sarah is handing the reins over to her hubby this week so pop over and see what he has to say! 

Two weekends in a row now Devil Papa has said that he wants to spend some boy time with Devil Spawn. Two weekends in a row that has involved him having a 5 hour nap FFS
 

It was raining Monday so I couldn't take transport to daycare so I decided to keep Devil Spawn home and have a movie day inside. It was a great idea, at least for the first hour FFS
 

Devil Spawn sleep dodges like you wouldn't believe. Monday night he was screaming so much about not wanting to go to bed that he vomited. I had just told him to come out into my bed. He vomited all over me FFS
 

Wednesday morning Devil Spawn decided that 3am is a perfectly fine time to start the day FFS
 

He crashed without a fuss at 630pm Wednesday night NO FFS
 

He woke up at midnight and the only way I could get him back to sleep was by holding his hand. Of course my arm took this opportunity to do it's weird twitching thing. Every time my arm twitched it would wake him up. FFS
 

Devil Spawn slept until 8am on Thursday morning NO FFS
 

I finally had some for thought and bought some snacks for after Devil Spawn goes to sleep. I haven't felt like any of it FFS
 

I accidentally deleted the account that I use for my commenting system. This deleted all of the comments associated with it on the blog including everyone elses FFS
 

I went to get my renewed Mental Health Plan on Tuesday. My doctor told me to make the most of it because she wasn't writing anymore. I should be over it by now according to her FFS
 

This was after me having to cancel a psychologist appointment because of her dragging her arse about writing it in the first place FFS
 

I need to find a new GP who has some sort of experience with Mental Health who also bulk bills. The chances are pretty slim FFS
 

I still haven't heard from the public Mental Health System about my referral that was sent in September. Not even a letter to say that I am on a waiting list FFS
 

What's been pissing you off this week? Have a whinge in the comments so I don't feel like the only one here. 

PMS can bite me

PMS or Premenstrual Syndrome is a bit of a touchy subject. A subject that seems to gather a lot of 'of she must be on her rags' comments from the more dense variety of the opposite sex.  PMS however is a very real syndrome for a lot of women.  Better health Channel says that up to 75% of women experience mild symptoms, while 20-30% experience more severe symptoms that can affect their mental well being.
 

The symptoms of PMS differ from woman to woman.  They can range from the physical such as bloating, weight gain, acne and swollen, tender breasts.  Many women also experience emotional symptoms such as decreased self esteem, moodiness, decreased/increased sex drive and anxiety.
 

There is also there more serious symptom of depression and suicidal ideation.  This is a symptom that I experienced.  It was horrible.  In the week leading up to my period, my depression reached new lows.  I couldn't get out of bed.  I didn't see the point. Many of my suicide attempts coincided with my period.  I just couldn't see the end. Even though I had dealt with this every month, I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. The stress overrode the limited amount of coping mechanisms that I had.
 

When I was a teenager, one of my psychiatrists warned me to never go on Depo Provera for contraception.  After I feel pregnant and had to go cold turkey on all of my medication, I knew that I couldn't/didn't want to go through that again.  It was a roller coaster of emotions and mood swings.  I needed a contraception that I didn't have to remember to take every day because lets face it, some days I would forget my head if it wasn't screwed on.  I wanted something that I could just do it and then it works and something that wasn't invasive.  I have a lot of scar tissue on my arms, and so I wasn't able to get the rod in my arm, that left me with Depo.   

I do feel some of the effects of the Depo.  I have a consistent low mood that I am fighting...however it is much better than the PMS that I used to experience.  My crisis points are now further apart, rather than every single month.  It gives me time to work on my skills, hone in on the strategies that I already have.
 

Do you suffer from PMS badly? What are you never fail techniques to help lighten the load each month? 

Linking up with Essentially Jess for #IBOT 

What not to say to someone who self harms

After reading the post Kate from Kate Says Stuff wrote about 5 things you shouldn't say to someone who is depressed it got me thinking about things that have been said to me why well meaning people.  Not about depression, but about self harm and being in hospital. 
 

Here is my list of things to not say to someone who has just self harmed and/or has found themselves in hospitial.
 

1. Why would you do that to yourself, there are people out there who have it worse than you.
This is one of my biggest pet hates around depression and mental illness.  People are always quick to remark that there is always someone out there who has it worse.  Do they not think that we are aware of that...sometimes there is nothing we can do, its all about a chemical imbalance.  Everyone has different levels of being able to cope. What may seem small to you, could be insurmountable to another person.  Don't judge them, they have enough guilt as it is.
 

2. You did this to yourself, so you don't deserve to be treated with respect.
This is more aimed at medical professionals and I use the term 'professionals' loosely.  There has been many times when I have be stitched or stapled without anesthetic. Or they have done it so soon after administering it, that it doesn't have a chance to work before they start stitching.  Contrary to small minded belief, self harmers do actually feel pain.  A small minded Dr refusing to use anesthetic is not the same as an act of self harm. 
 

3. People who self harm are people to be feared.
The key word in the term is SELF harm. We don't set out to directly harm others, we may indirectly hurt loved ones emotionally, but very rarely does an act of SELF harm involve another person.  I was removed from UNI housing as the UNI was afraid for the safety of other students.  Another example of how far small minded stigma spreads.
 

4. Why are you in the 'looney bin' it's full of 'crazy' people.
To put things a bit simply...in order to want to harm yourself to 'feel better' you have to kind of be a little bit crazy. Also, the other people in hospital are no different from your friend, they are lost like them. Their medication might have stopped working, or they fell into old habits and they found themselves at rock bottom again.  Hospital is a place to gather yourself, you won't be instantly better, but it helps to get yourself back on your own two feet.
 

5. I won't visit them or call them because they might want to be alone.
Don't make this assumption.  Hospital is a lonely place, the days seem to tick by so slowly.  There isn't much to do other than to be lost in your own thoughts.  At least not in the public wards I have been in.  Make a phone call. Sometimes even a 5 minute conversation can make someone feel like there is people out there who care about them.  Why is it that when someone is in hospital for a medical issue, people have no issue in going for a visit but as soon as someone is in the 'looney bin' then they are something that is to be feared.  Step outside your comfort zone and make someone feel a bit special.
 

What can you do to make your friend feel better?
The truth is there might not be much, but just being there, judge free can be enough.  Lending a listening ear and letting them know that they aren't alone.  

FFS Friday 21st December

It's well and truly the silly season around her and it's bought all of the wankers out of the woodworks here.  It wouldn't be a Friday in silly season without a FFS Friday!
 

Devil Spawn slept in until 930 on Monday (daycare day) and I decided to keep him home.  An hour later I regretted it. FFS
 

By the time I got him ready and took him to daycare it would have been time to pick him up again so I had to deal with having him home FFS
 

Having him home involved taking him to a DR appointment.  That never ends well. FFS
 

He started off right where he left off last DR appointment and started screaming at me that he needed a drink FFS
 

After my DR did a GOOGLE search she determined that she didn't think I was able to get ATAPS. FFS
 

It turned out she was right FFS
 

Tuesday morning I woke up to it raining, I have to take the bus to Daycare and Devil Spawn had to go on Tuesday. FFS
 

The rain finally stopped around 745 and I was able to take him NO FFS.
 

There is a cafe here that I have been dying to try. Every time I have organised to go there something comes up. This week I got there but they were fully booked FFS.
 

I had lunch with some great company NO FFS
 

I killed some time before my psych appointment and bought a Scratchie. I won $25. NO FFS
 

I have to clean my dump before the parental unit come. Wednesday it was so hot that I looked like I had run a marathon after washing up.  FFS
 

Washing up was about all that I got done FFS
 

I did however wrap 90% of the Christmas Presents...whose stupid idea was it that the presents need to be wrapped FFS
 

I went hunting for a pair of board shorts for Christmas day...I couldn't find any shorts that were bigger than a pair of underwear. If I was going to wear that I wouldn't bother with the shorts FFS
 

That means that I have to brave the shops again tomorrow FFS
 

Papa Devil hasn't done any of his Christmas Shopping yet. That means I will then have to go out to the shops again on Saturday or Sunday. Why does he leave it until the days before every single year FFS
 

What's been pissing you off this week? Are you a blogger? Head on over to Dear Baby G and link up with your weekly whine.

Sure I'll talk, as long as it doesn't involve calling you

Image from here

The only time I have absolutely no anxiety about making a phone call is when I am making drunk calls and lets be honest its socially frowned upon to be drunk ALL the time, as tempting as it is.

The trouble with being a grown up is that, well, you have to make phone calls all of the time.  Regardless of whether you want to or not.  Me, I try all other avenues of contact before making a phone call.  Even sweeping problems under the rug and pretending they don't exist.

My problem at the moment is that I want to try and find a private psychologist.  That involves using the phone.  I have found a group who treat self harm patients. I sent them an email on Thursday and haven't heard anything since.  My first reaction is to think that 'they are all the same' and ignore it.  My second reaction is to just keep waiting it out and hoping that I get an email or phone call reply soon.  Chances are the email has been overlooked and it would be in my best interest to just call them for the information I am looking for.

Chances are I won't do it.  It took me 3 days to call the social worker to reschedule my appointment for tomorrow.  Two hang ups before the call connected.  

The trouble is that I have bitten the bullet last week and went to my GP...who has referred me to the uselessness that is the public mental health system.  Chances are I won't get a phone call from them.  Chances are if I do it will only serve to piss me off.  Anger is something I have enough of. I don't need anymore.

I need to get better. Pure and simple. Right?

Image here

 

Biting the Bullet

Shit has been hitting the fan the last 6 months. I've been a ball of fury that doesn't seem to have a way to unravel.  Everyone has been copping it. Left, right and center. Mostly those close to me though.

I think it's time I bit the bullet and talking to a 'professional' about it.  Every day feels like the worst day of my life.  I spend most of the day either in tears, sleeping to escape or yelling.  This is no way for DS to live.  I don't want him remembering his childhood as having been peppered with anger.

I just need something to take the edge off. The only time I don't feel on edge is when I am drinking. We all know what that can lead to.  

My jaw is constantly clenched and I am poised in flight mode instead of fight.  Not something that is helpful for a parent.  I think constantly about running away. Never coming back.  Self harm is always at the front of my mind.  This hasn't happened in over 3 years.  I feel in a state of constant crisis.  Shit is getting real.

It's time to get real about this shit.  It's time to get the help that I need and my family deserves.

Mental Health: Pissing you off even after you've been discharged.

Long time no write...blah blah.

I got discharged from Outpatient services in June.  Wasn't really a big deal.  As I had told myself and many others, I've been doing this shit on my own for the last three years anyway.

It all went along smoothly and it felt good.  GP was happy to take over medication care.  I was happy that she was competent enough to do it.  MH were happy that she was happy.

Cue last Thursday.  I got a phone call from my GP office that she wanted to see me ASAP.  The earliest I could get in was Monday.  I was apprehensive as I had no idea why she would need to see me after receiving a discharge summary.

Cue hissy fit.  As usual MH had fucked up majorly.  They had said that I was discharged from inpatient services.  They also said that I had self harmed extensively, leaving out the crucial word HISTORY.

I haven't self harmed since September 2008, something that is quite an achievement.  To have these incompetent arseholes place this in jeopardy really pissed me off.  The ramifications really could have been worse than me just being pissed off.  What if my GP had decided that she would give children's services a call? What would they have done? 

I'm glad to be done with them.  My blood pressure can't handle too much more of it.

Fix You

Through the BabyCentre forums I got to know a wonderful mum and began to follow the plight she faced and fought everyday to help her son with Autism.  She faced waiting list after waiting list, some up to 2 years long before anyone could provide her with the building blocks she needed to help her son become all that he could be.

She. Never. Gave. Up.

According to the 2009 Survey of Disability, Ageing and Carers (SDAC), an estimated 64, 600 Australians have Autism.  This is double the amount surveyed in 2003. The majority of the care of those diagnosed falls to the family. Formal carers provided less than a third of the care.  According to statistics only 2,200 people diagnosed with Autism receive daily formal care.  The rest falls to an often overworked, stressed family member.

Public waiting lists are long, private care is expensive.  Most families can't provide the care their child deserves.  My friend decided enough was enough and took things into her own hands.  She began fundraising, raising awareness and never stopped fighting so that her son could get the care he needed.  I am constantly in awe of everything she does for her family.

  Here is a video she had created the explains the plight more than I ever could.

If you wish donate please head over to their Facebook page: Ipads 4 Autism

Crisis Schmisis

Last night I realised the positive power of social media and once again the short falls of my local after hours crisis centre.  I am both amazed and appalled that women who I have never met IRL helped more than trained 'professionals'.

Things came to a head like a great big pussy pimple and I needed help stat!  I had been texting my best friend back and forth most of the day.  I had been waiting a week for my case manager to call me back, I missed her call.  I spent the rest of the day building up the confidence to call back and working out what to say.  I finally called her back and she told the receptionist that she would call me back...she didn't...again.

I have very, very, very little faith in my local crisis team and inpatient unit.  So the fact that I relented and called them, I think shows the frame of mind that I was in, and the distress that I was feeling.  

As soon as a voice answered on the other end I blurted out "I want to cut myself".  He asked if I had spoken to anyone else about this and I said that I had been waiting for my case manager to call me back but she hadn't.  What did he surmise from this? That the solution to my crisis was to send my case manager an email and problem fixed.  I started crying and asked what I was supposed to do in the mean time? His answer? I sent your case manager an email, problem solved.  I called him a wanker and hung up.

He called back...I won't bore you with the details but the conversation pretty much followed the same line as the first one...my problem was already solved.  I told him I wasn't coping with my child and the care of him and he told me that everyone goes through that and to suck it up, go watch a movie and it will blow over. I. Am. Not. Kidding.

The scary thing about this experience? It's not a one off, they weren't just having a bad night.  I can count on one finger the amount of times that they  have been helpful.  They are the first port of call before being hospitalised.  If you present at the ED, you have to pass these gate keepers.  Depending on the time that you present...you might not even see a doctor before being sent on your merry way.  Regardless of your state you can be sent on your way without seeing a doctor.

I have been dragged to the ED by police and still they said that the Dr didn't want to leave the comfort of his bed and send me on my way.  Even the police were appalled.  

The first time I had contact with them my parents had driven 8 hours for the 'privilege' only to be told 'she's not old enough to be in our unit' even though at the time I was 18 and a half.  Our referring GP was told that I was guaranteed a bed and that I needed to be hospitalised.  It took my mum 'making a scene' for them to admit me.  Even though I had just gone through surgery to fix something I had done to myself, I wasn't considered 'sick enough'.

I am really appalled that as a developed country we still have this fight to have mental illness treated and to be treated with respect.  Most of the time we don't have the energy to jump through the hoops they set for us and self harm, criminal activity, drinking, taking drugs is just 'easier' than having to deal with the crap these 'professionals' deal us.

Decided to link up with Dear Baby G's For Fuck Sake Friday.  Pop over and show some comment love or link up with a post if you have something that has been driving you up the wall this week.

The wait is on.....

Image from here

It turns out I am rid of the sleeping case manager...now the wait is on for the next one to come along.  All of my case managers seem to get moved along which makes me think they are just scraping the bottom of the barrel to give me one.

I had intended to notify my doctor of my case managers strange habits but he beat me to it with news that she was going to work elsewhere.  A big sigh of relief went through me.  Now she is someone else's problem.  I pity them and hope that their problems aren't in need of a case manager that is more dedicated to their job.

That appointment was 2 weeks ago and I am yet to hear a word from my 'new' case manager.  No wonder there is so much mental illness in this world, if this is the level of care that is the 'norm'.  If you can't afford private health care then you are stuck with the luck of the draw that is the public health system.  Oh and you would want to be holding a knife to your throat or someone else's if you have any hope of getting inpatient treatment in this town. 

I'm not cynical I'm just being realistic.

Isn't that nice

On Monday I went to my GP...

I've been seeing her for about three years and Mini Man has been seeing her since he was a mere 5 days old. I'd like to think we have a good rapport, even if she doesn't get my sarcasm.....

I mentioned that I was feeling quite run down lately.  Sleep wasn't fixing it and I was sick of it.  I am getting 8+ hours sleep at night and then catnapping for another hour in the mornings while Mini Man plays....yet still feeling like death warmed up.  It's affecting my day to day tasks as I constantly run late....something that drives me bonkers.

Her first response was to ask if I thought it was my depression was returning (had it left) and I responded yes with trepidation.  Many (un)professionals dismiss mental health clients physical symptoms as just part of their mental illness.  I know of a woman who was admitted to the psychiatric unit at the local hospital every time she presented to the emergency department...regardless of her ailment.

Her next words gave me hope...She wanted to send me for a blood test to make sure everything is ok.  Everything could be ok and the tiredness could be a manifestation of depression and other head stuff but it's nice to be taken seriously.  

Ugh

This morning I really hate the public transport system and the fact that it made have a mini meltdown.  I organised my morning around it and it all went to shit.  I had an appointment with my psychiatrist at 12.  I worked out to catch the bus at 11:15 that I would be there with a decent amount of time before my appointment.  Oh how I was wrong...so, so wrong.  I don't know if they just stopped that service or what but it just never turned up, 12 came and went.  I had to catch a taxi.

Cue scene 2....the tears.  I rang mental health to let them know that I was going to be late.  Their response...we'll just reschedule your appointment.....and the tears begin.  She wanted to put me through to acute care team....no thanks I just wanted to see my doctor today.  With a bit of back and forth I was told to just come up and I would see a doctor.  Thankfully after all of this stressful stuff ups I was able to get to speak to my psychiatrist.

Cue scene 3....the tears with a good outcome.  My record of two appointments without tears came to an end when I spent half of the session crying....over god knows what.  The decision was made to start me on a mood stabiliser after I told her about my swift mood changes of moderately happy to ultimate bitch.  I'm hoping this medication works....only time will tell I guess.

Letting go

I got a bit of disappointing news today.  My psychiatrist who I have been seeing for the last 3 years has resigned and gone private.  I can't afford to follow her so looks like I am at the mercy of the public system again.  Oh joy!

Initially I was told that she was going part time private but still having clinic once a week and had agreed to keep me on....today she said that she finishes for good mid next month.  I will see her for the last time in two weeks.  It's already making me sick to the stomach.

She asked how I felt about it....what was I supposed to say? Don't leave me? Oh now wouldn't that be soooo borderline of me, so predictable.  So what did I say?  Well thats life, sometimes people leave.  When all I wanted to do was scream at her.  How am I supposed to start over again?  Especially with a case manager who doesn't really know me well either and who thinks I just need to meditate more. 

How can we put our trust in people when they all leave....eventually.  There are only a couple of people in my life, not counting family, who have been there through thick and thin.  Who despite there own struggles have always been there and I will be forever greatful for their support.  The friends who make mental health jokes without malicious intent.  The friends who have been there, done that, bought the T shirt.  The friends who knew the difference between self harm thoughts and intent.  The friends who stayed up chatting all night just for the sake of it.  I just hope that I can be the friend to them that they are to me :)