Hello everyone, this is my 1st official blog post. I thought this topic would be a great for discussion because it’s so controversial. Before I dive into it, just a little information about myself, I have been a psychiatric nurse for almost 5 years. I have a Master’s Degree in Nursing and have cared for patients aged 4 to 102 all in mental health, behavioral health, psychiatry, whatever you like to call it. Although to some may seem like a short time in the field, I have learned so much and experienced more. I love working in mental health, it’s a field of medicine that requires a “grey” thinking mindset. I have grown passionately about mental health and caring for this vulnerable patient population. Next to mental health nursing, my love is education. I’ve had my hand in the education pot as well working, part-time…
I assume my DID is more clearly visible on social media, but even in Second Life,
when some of the alternates logged in with separate accounts and avatars,
most people assumed I was really good at role play.
Most of my friends describe me as talented, bright, positive, passionate, and
But I’m also depressed, impulsive, sometimes self-destructive, suicidal, and self
I experience depression as if it is a separate self because it feels as if I see the
world through another man’s eyes.
This depressed self impulsively acted out when we were younger.
He usually wound up in crisis clinics and on psych units.
We’re older and better at coping when the depressed self comes out;
but coping takes so much energy there is little left for anything else.
When I tell people I am symptomatic what I mean is that I have all
the symptoms of a dissociative disorder combined with the symptoms
of major depression.
The depressive loss of concentration makes the memory loss of DID more confusing.
Shame is what I feel when I lose an area of competence.
I know that I am able to write under a deadline but not now.
I know that I can write a competent review but not now.
I know that I can collaborate on projects but not now.
What I don’t understand at my core is why I can’t do those things now.
And when I sense our culture’s denial of mental illness in my interactions with
friends who mean well the shame merges with rage.
The misconceptions and lies about people with mental illnesses insinuate
themselves into our lives and becomes a given.
A givenis a misconception that people unconsciously accept as maybetrue.
It’s a given that all people who are homeless either:
A: Drank themselves onto the streets.
B: Chose to live on the streets.
C: Both A and B
The number of people who comfort themselves with the ‘they deserve it’
choice of C: must be huge because all social conventions are collective
We collectively incarcerate and execute gays until we collectively figure
out that we’re wrong; and even then there is no guarantee that the forces
of ignorance won’t convince us to go back to collectively incarcerating
and executing gays.
So it is a century after Dorothea Dix we brutalize the mentally ill with
lethal neglect and homelessness.
Just as we collectively agreed to build institutions to house and safeguard
the mentally ill we now collectively agree to starve them to death on the
By what mechanism do we do this?
We do it by denying the truth of chronic mental illness.
We pretend that people with broken brains will always choose treatment
when it’s offered, even though one of the primary symptoms of
serious mental illness is denial.
These quotes are perfect examples of the kinds of attitudes that
make life miserable for people with chronic mental illness.
I found them on Pinterest by running a search for Mental Illness:
I’m to change that I’m broken by denying the truth of it?
I didn’t beak myself.
I’m sick of starting over.
I’m sick of living in pain.
How do I ‘rediscover’ someone I never knew?
My illness places me at the mercy of a political movement that defines my life as useless
because I am mentally ill. This movement wants me to die.
As examples I refer you the thousands of seriously ill people rotting on our streets and in our prisons.
Yes, I have strength and courage. I’d also like to have access to treatment and rehabilitation.
I love Thoreaubut I don’t think he had chronic mental illness in mind when he wrote that.
People with a mental illness must learn how to cope with the effects of disruptive symptoms, the social stigma induced by the symptoms and the stress of living in a country that seems to have collectively lost its mind.
As an abuse survivor, I look at American politics and see a mob of racist adults hurling stones at black children the day my South Carolina grammar school was desegregated.
I see the man who called me a kike and kicked me in the stomach when my body was five.
So I read these words in Salon today I felt afraid:
For a generation, gun advocates have defended the right to bear arms as a check against tyranny, and for just as long liberals have dismissed this as a melodramatic talking point. But what if we take them at their word, and accept that it is possible we are witnessing the opening phase of a still-inchoate violent uprising by a broad class of Americans, who, ignored politically, bypassed economically, and dismissed socially, are beginning to take matters into their own hands?
What if, in other words, Donald Trump isn’t an aberration created by the miscalculations of party elite, but the political expression of a much deeper, and more dangerous, frustration among a very large, well-armed segment of our population? What if Trump isn’t a proto-Mussolini, but rather a regrettably short finger in the dike holding back a flood of white violence and anger this country hasn’t seen since the long economic boom of the 1950s and ’60s helped put an end to the Jim Crow era?
One way or another, we’re going to find out soon. Trump made headlines when he suggested his supporters would riot if he were denied the nomination despite his lead in the delegate count. Even if we are spared that spectacle, the Trump era will almost certainly come to an end by November. And then we will be left with the naked fact of his followers, too few in number to effect meaningful change on their own, too numerous for the rest of us to ignore, too angry to sit still for long.