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Clearly, psychotherapy doesn't work for everyone. Some more than others. The bigger question, the real question, is why it works at all.
My name is Dani Zee. I am a mental health consumer and advocate. I am also a business owner, a friend, a daughter and a sister.
I have been video blogging on YouTube for over a year about my life and living with mental illness. My purpose in doing this is to raise awareness about mental illness and to support people that experience it. Now, I'm glad to be here at HealthyPlace.com sharing mental health information and insights with young adults who are dealing with mental health problems and may being going through what I've experienced.
It's not my fault. We say it. We think it. We spread it around. It's supposed to assuage our guilt and make others believe we didn't do anything wrong, when maybe we did.
But occasionally, someone has a backbone. Not a politician, not a famous person, not a person in a position of power, but your average person that you interact with, they are capable of admitting they did something less-than-perfectly.
But never, ever is it a doctor's fault. It doesn't matter what they do, or what they say, it's never their fault. They never make a mistake. They never have a bad day. They never make an error in judgement. They never write the wrong name of a drug down on a script. Never, is it ever, their fault.
Last night my friend called me from the ER of our local hospital. She is where we were eight years ago: son in crisis, mother in heartbreak, son blaming the mother. Oh, yes. I remember it well.
Without dwelling on details that invade my friend's family privacy, I'll sum it up this way. Bipolar. Not taking prescribed meds. Alcohol. Threatened suicide. 911. Rehab desperately needed. Mother hoping. Son, age 26, wavering, now that rehab (which he said he needs) could now become reality.
As an activist, I find research is an inspiration for a lot of my writing, and is important to share to show trends of research, treatment, prevention and to help create conversations on topics that need more awareness. When I saw the article called “Heavy Drinkers Have Poor Dietary Habits,” my first gut response was a resounding DUH. Not the most professional response, I know.
The word recovery is often socially defined as the achievement of health after a period of illness. Recovery is thought to be consistent and often connected to a physical illness. Recovery, when connected to a chronic mental illness, is different; the word itself holds more weight. The process from sickness to health is not absolute in nature. It is transient, and can change with the seasons or be triggered by life events.
Reader Deanna asked if anyone has ever experienced remission from Dissociative Identity Disorder. If we’re defining remission as a period of diminished, unobtrusive dissociative symptoms – “normal” dissociation, in other words – then I’d wager there are people who have experienced exactly that. But they have worked hard to achieve that degree of integration and awareness. It didn’t happen spontaneously, which is what I suspect most of us with Dissociative Identity Disorder mean when we bring up this idea of remission. And I also suspect it isn’t really integration we’re talking about, but the apparent disappearance of other personality states. I’m guessing plenty of people experience this latter scenario too; but remission it is not.
"I never wanted him to be like me, or to have any power over him. I just wanted him to leave me alone. To be able to get out safely." ~ comment by castorgirl on Motive for Staying in Abusive Relationship
Castorgirl's comment bothered me all week. At first I thought it was because she seemed so blind and innocent, unwilling to see the truth. I wanted her to plainly see the hidden dynamics of an abusive relationship. But then in one clear instant, I remembered being castorgirl. I remember when the only thing I wanted was for him to leave me alone (The Invisible Line Between Verbal and Physical Abuse).
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Tomorrow, my children will both go back to school.
(Excuse me while I do a little dance and high-five myself for having lived through--and allowed them to live through--this very long summer.)
The school supplies are ready, the new clothes are in the washing machine as we speak--all in anticipation of a new school year. "Back to School" night was Monday, and we've already met Bob's fourth-grade teacher and know who his classmates are. We are completely prepared.
Or are we?
My point being, I'm right there with you. I hate the rollercoaster. I just want to live life without being in a state of constant fight or flight mode, only for his character to change and de-escalate and I fall for the person I fell for all over again.
Exhausting is a horrible word. The understatement of all understatements, if you will.
I wish there were better support groups for this kind of mental health condition.