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the doctors are the nutcases, not me!
Former Member
Posts: 1,876,323 The Mix Honorary Guru
If any of you have ever had contact with mental health services, you might understand where i'm coming from. I've suffered from depression for quite a few years now but my feelings and approach has changed recently. I was first diagnosed in 2000 when i suddenly turned into a cabbage and abandoned my social and accademic life. At the time, i didnt know why i felt that way but i know why now. Id been through a lot of trauma at school that i never really got over and my esteem was and is rock bottom, and family life was aweful. I didnt really have a family. I had a bunch of people that lived in the same house and were vaguely awares of others in the area.
Anyway, it wasnt long (infact, about five minutes) before the doc came up with the magic pills that make it all better with pink fluffy skies in the morning. At the time, i wanted to believe that there was something wrong with me. It was like the easy way out. An excuse for feeling so miserable. I happily took the anti-depressants. I mannaged to recover and build up my confidence. I moved out, that solved the family problems and boosted my esteem. The doc probably thought it was the anti-depressants achieving something but it wasnt. It was me! Over the Christmas period last year i went through a lot. I had girlfriend problems big style, and after a few big arguements i ended up drinking excessively, and over dosing on anti-depressants. 2 days before my 19th birthday i took an over-dose at work. I took 38 aspirin tablets. To cut a long story short, I collapsed and ended up in hospital. They let me go home that day but i had to return the next day to see some doctors. I was emotionally knackered and i didnt want to go through an experience like that ever again. I was quite chirpy in the morning and went back to hospital in a good mood. That is, until they started to wind me up. Firstly i saw a CPN with his student, and my mum present and they asked me all the usual stuff. The stuff that drives me crackers. "Is Life worth living?" Daft question to ask a philosophy student if you want a straight answer. I just shrugged to say i dont know. If they asked if i wanted to live, theyd have got a very definate yes. Idiots!
Maybe this is just me, but one thing that drives me up the wall is fake empathy. When people say they understand how you feel in a fake soft voice. It makes you feel like you're about five years old and it shows you they're not listening. Is it just me? I felt like replying in the same tones, see how they like it!
Another thing. These people must be really stupid. I mean, if you're really desperatly suicidal, do you think you'd honestly tell them so? I dont think so. It'd be fake smiles for however long it took, then straight out and off a motorway bridge! Didnt it occur to them that if i was suicidal id have done it as soon as i got released the day before? Id just been through an awful trauma, I was in shock, yet they persisted with annoying me to the best of their abilities!
The thing that really hit the spot was when my mum was out the room, the student asked the most sensible question id heard. "Have you ever done anything like this before?" I answered honestly, yes, id taken a couple of over-doses over christmas. Then they brought my mum back into the room, and without my concent, they went ahead and repeated it to my mum. I was angry, before that but now i was expecting to burn into a fireball any second. How stupid can you get? What happened to the confidenciality you were preaching about an hour ago? I knew the effect that was going to have on my mum. Me and her were quite close. I was so furious i refused to look at them, speak to them or even breath in their direction again.
Not the best idea, i realise, but then thats my nature. If im angry at someone, i wont speak to them. Is that so abnormal?
I didnt think it would be possible to get even more angry, but as i stopped speaking. My mum decided to speak for me. She talked total rubbish about me that painted me in a far worse state than i was and pissed me off even more. By that stage i just couldnt speak anymore. My lips were sealed in shock. Even though I wanted to tell them all to **** off i couldnt.
Hour after hour passed, doctor after doctor passed with it. Eventually they were getting edgy. They asked me if id let someone come and see me the next day if they let me go. I refused. Ironicly, i refused because my flat was a mess and didnt want them to see it until i got chance to tidy the place up. Then they asked if id come back to hospital to see someone but im stubborn. You anger me and im hardly likely to want to come back for more people telling me what i am and what im thinking rather than listening to me. They were starting to threaten me so i gave in a little. I agreed to return to hospital for an appointment, but now they wanted more. They ask me if i'd accept any treatment I was given if they let me go home. I refused instantly. In heinsight, i should have gone along with it then just refused later but i never do things the easy way.
I refused because i was staying to my principals. I didnt believe that psychological problems could be cured with physical treatments anymore than counceling could cure a heart attack. to me, it's ridiculous............
TO BE CONTINUED
________
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Anyway, it wasnt long (infact, about five minutes) before the doc came up with the magic pills that make it all better with pink fluffy skies in the morning. At the time, i wanted to believe that there was something wrong with me. It was like the easy way out. An excuse for feeling so miserable. I happily took the anti-depressants. I mannaged to recover and build up my confidence. I moved out, that solved the family problems and boosted my esteem. The doc probably thought it was the anti-depressants achieving something but it wasnt. It was me! Over the Christmas period last year i went through a lot. I had girlfriend problems big style, and after a few big arguements i ended up drinking excessively, and over dosing on anti-depressants. 2 days before my 19th birthday i took an over-dose at work. I took 38 aspirin tablets. To cut a long story short, I collapsed and ended up in hospital. They let me go home that day but i had to return the next day to see some doctors. I was emotionally knackered and i didnt want to go through an experience like that ever again. I was quite chirpy in the morning and went back to hospital in a good mood. That is, until they started to wind me up. Firstly i saw a CPN with his student, and my mum present and they asked me all the usual stuff. The stuff that drives me crackers. "Is Life worth living?" Daft question to ask a philosophy student if you want a straight answer. I just shrugged to say i dont know. If they asked if i wanted to live, theyd have got a very definate yes. Idiots!
Maybe this is just me, but one thing that drives me up the wall is fake empathy. When people say they understand how you feel in a fake soft voice. It makes you feel like you're about five years old and it shows you they're not listening. Is it just me? I felt like replying in the same tones, see how they like it!
Another thing. These people must be really stupid. I mean, if you're really desperatly suicidal, do you think you'd honestly tell them so? I dont think so. It'd be fake smiles for however long it took, then straight out and off a motorway bridge! Didnt it occur to them that if i was suicidal id have done it as soon as i got released the day before? Id just been through an awful trauma, I was in shock, yet they persisted with annoying me to the best of their abilities!
The thing that really hit the spot was when my mum was out the room, the student asked the most sensible question id heard. "Have you ever done anything like this before?" I answered honestly, yes, id taken a couple of over-doses over christmas. Then they brought my mum back into the room, and without my concent, they went ahead and repeated it to my mum. I was angry, before that but now i was expecting to burn into a fireball any second. How stupid can you get? What happened to the confidenciality you were preaching about an hour ago? I knew the effect that was going to have on my mum. Me and her were quite close. I was so furious i refused to look at them, speak to them or even breath in their direction again.
Not the best idea, i realise, but then thats my nature. If im angry at someone, i wont speak to them. Is that so abnormal?
I didnt think it would be possible to get even more angry, but as i stopped speaking. My mum decided to speak for me. She talked total rubbish about me that painted me in a far worse state than i was and pissed me off even more. By that stage i just couldnt speak anymore. My lips were sealed in shock. Even though I wanted to tell them all to **** off i couldnt.
Hour after hour passed, doctor after doctor passed with it. Eventually they were getting edgy. They asked me if id let someone come and see me the next day if they let me go. I refused. Ironicly, i refused because my flat was a mess and didnt want them to see it until i got chance to tidy the place up. Then they asked if id come back to hospital to see someone but im stubborn. You anger me and im hardly likely to want to come back for more people telling me what i am and what im thinking rather than listening to me. They were starting to threaten me so i gave in a little. I agreed to return to hospital for an appointment, but now they wanted more. They ask me if i'd accept any treatment I was given if they let me go home. I refused instantly. In heinsight, i should have gone along with it then just refused later but i never do things the easy way.
I refused because i was staying to my principals. I didnt believe that psychological problems could be cured with physical treatments anymore than counceling could cure a heart attack. to me, it's ridiculous............
TO BE CONTINUED
________
Extreme Q Vaporizer
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So, they decided to section me. How much angrier did they want me to be? What annoyed me most was that for the section they were trying to impose, they needed permission of next of kin. I felt betrayed by my own mother. She should never have been there in the first place. If work didnt ring her, she would have known none of this and i'd have been back to normal within a week. My dad even decided to bring my sister along to piss me off even more. You see, i absolutely hate my sister. She's a gossip and a backstabber and spreads lies all the tie so she must have loved this. Anything to bring more attention to herself! How insensitive could my dad be? He knew i hated her and he still brought her. I wasnt suicidal, i was homosidal. I felt like throttling the lot of them. I spent the first few hours in the psychiatric hospital like a naughty boy, stood up in the corner, in total disbelief. Soon enough, i was moved again like a piece of cattle to another room nearer the nurses where i could be watched at all times. I spent most of that first night with my eyes closed and my lips sealed tight. There was one positive though. On my ward there was a chain-smoking nurse who didnt offend me. That'd be the 1st person in 24 hours that didnt make me angry. He just didnt patronise me like the others would and he'd talk to me and encourage me. He even managed to get a smile from me at one stage.
As time went on the nurses were getting a little concerned that i wasnt drinking or eating. They made me loads of cups of teas, not much use as i dont drink hot drinks anyway, but even less use as i was on hunger and fluid strike. I was determined to get released. I think this must be just about the worst idea i've ever had but i reckoned that if i refused to drink they'd have to release me or id simply die. Not too smart, eh?
Eventually i broke my silence, i got so fed up with the others of drinks that i flipped and told one of the nurses if i wanted a drink id ask for one. She rather comically backed down and acted all hurt and upset, which actually made me feel better. It was about time i got a bit of revenge. It was my birthday on the tenth (2 days after admission) and one of the nurses ordered me a cake. That added insult to injury. You want me to celebrate my birthday when im locked in a mental institute? Are you taking the p**s? Anyway, i was still on hunger strike. My parents bought me a card, which i took great pleasure out of destroying without opening. I was hoping they put money in it so id be ripping that up too. I was so annoyed with them. They also bought me a bottle of pop which very quickly found its way into the sink. I was starting to enjoy a bit of revenge! Eventually, i had to drink. My plan obviously wasnt working and i didnt want to die anyway so i drank some milk.
TO BE CONTINUED
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WENDIE 99
TO BE CONTINUED
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Kelie
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BRUNETTE LINGERIE
How are you now?
when i left hospital, the doctors closing note was "you are not depressed or mentally ill. this was just a bad reaction to stress" so even theyve vindicated me, which makes me a little happier!
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on another note, i really like your writing style. i was gripped reading your story, have you ever thought about writing as a career?
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thanks a lot rainbow brite. that really made me smile. I love writing. I do loads of poetry and stuff like that too but most people hate my smile. its nice to be appreciated!
i feel much stronger after going through all that. Although my natural confidence is really low my belief in myself is really strong. does that make sense? I feel like im living each day to prove the docs wrong. Im determined to be a success, somehow!
thanks again!
<IMG SRC="smile.gif" border="0" ALT="icon"> <IMG SRC="smile.gif" border="0" ALT="icon">
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