Patterns of Adverse Childhood Events Associated with Characteristics of Bipolar Disorder

“I call myself Bipolar 1, but in my own mind the one diagnosis I know for sure is disassociation.”

acidpop5,

Your story is powerful. Thank you for sharing it.

Like so many people, in the past couple of decades, who, as kids, were “diagnosed” and “treated” by psychiatrists, as “Bipolar,” you wound up more or less robbed of your childhood.

[Note: I became a subject of Psychiatry, at age 21; after three and a half years, I left psychiatry forever (that was roughly 25 years ago); so, psychiatry ‘only’ robbed me of my early twenties.]

You describe,

“…mother was a wonderful parent to my two siblings because she could blame all of the horrible things she did on me. So much so, that I still can’t differentiate between my memories and hers. This doesn’t sound traumatic, but I became her way of gaining pity from others. This meant she did more and more horrific things.”

(Actually, to me, that does sound traumatic.)

I also had two siblings, and they were given much latitude to ‘act out’; I was the “good kid” and the “easy child,” until I ‘acted out,’ suddenly, at age 21, throwing plates at my parents’ garage door. (I think of it as a delayed teenage rebellion.) At that point, my mother put all her energy into getting me “hospitalized” and “treated” by psychiatrists.

So, I know what it’s like to have had a mom who came to put all her faith in psychiatry, thinking it could ‘help’ me.

But, she was quite different from how you describe your mother; I am really quite sure that my mom always meant well (really).

My mom meant well by all her family members. There is not even the least doubt in my mind, about that.

You explain,

“…mother suffered from anxiety and what I hope is psychopathy. I hope because the idea of a break in reality allows me to believe she was not aware of her actions. I was not physically abused. I was a sacrifice.”

My mom suffered some amount of anxiety, but I do not think of my mom as having suffered “psychopathy”.

As you describe your mom, I think of ‘Münchausen syndrome by proxy.’

Have you heard of “Münchausen syndrome by proxy”? (That’s a behavioral syndrome.)

See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M%C3%BCnchausen_syndrome_by_proxy

Please, understand, I don’t mean to stick your mom with that label.

I call myself “BeyondLabeling” because I flat out refuse to accept any psychiatric labels — for many reasons.

I find all pathologizing labels to be variously misleading; so, neither do I choose to refer to others, with psychiatric labels.

But, admittedly, there are some forms of habitual behavior that do comprise ‘syndromes’ of behavior, which I associate with certain people whom I’ve known or whom I’ve observed, over time; and, I feel, sometimes it can be helpful to realize that someone’s apparently ‘unhealthy’ behavior is falling into an observable pattern, that has been, to some extent, addressed, by others.

Of course, ‘officially’ described “syndromes” (like that one, mentioned above) may include certain very key details that do not apply to a given person’s behaviors — when that person may, otherwise, seemingly, fit the bill.

E.g., that “Münchausen syndrome by proxy” is said to include strong patterns of deception.

Yet, there are so many various degrees of deception, that are possible, in human behavior — including so much self-deception, which can mislead others unconsciously; and, so, there is, potentially, much unconscious deception of others.

From all that you say, it’s quite possible that your mother does not fit into the official description of “Münchausen syndrome by proxy” — because she may not have been deliberately deceiving; she may not have known that you really were not ever ill.

(IMO, that’s most often the case with mothers who bring their kids to psychiatrists; meanwhile, psychiatry tends to create ‘illnesses,’ as a result of so many so-called “side-effects” of its prescribed drugs. They create ‘illness’ — through so many iatrogenic effects.)

So, please understand, I offer you that link, above, as a way to consider that maybe your mom fit some of those behavioral patterns, in that ‘sydrome’ — not all of them; and, I offer that link with a caution, that you’ll, hopefully, avoid labeling your mom.

And (here I may be going to far), please forgive me for offering this suggestion: If I were an adult whose own childhood had been more or less sacrificed on the altar of Psychiatry (as was your childhood), I’d be certain, after all, to avoid labeling myself with the name of any supposed “mental illness” (e.g., “Bipolar”).

Indeed, with all due respect, to your explaining that, “the one diagnosis I know for sure is disassociation,” I say this…

I’m sure you realize that patterns of dissociation are learned behaviors.

(Hence, I don’t call “dissociation” a “diagnosis”; though, surely, it can be a habit.)

When ‘dissociating’ becomes a habit, that’s because it’s come to function as a coping mechanism (or, even a survival mechanism…).

Habitual dissociating is usually a result of unresolved trauma.

And, some traumas can remain with us, to some extent, for a lifetime; thus, some habits can be difficult (but not impossible) to break.

But, some habits needn’t be ‘broken,’ they can be transformed into creative activity.

Mild and/or occasional forms of dissociative behavior — e.g., a bit of ‘day-dreaming’ — can lead to inspiration (and inspirational activity), the creation of exciting, new art forms, scientific breakthroughs, etc..

And, a practice of meditating, regularly (even ‘just’ fifteen minutes daily), can help. (Maybe you have some such practice?)

Naturally, you learned to dissociate, given the sort of parenting you describe having received from your mother.

Meanwhile, you have the ability to very clearly communicate your experiences, and you offer clues that, had it not been for the way your mother treated you (i.e., ‘treated’ you via psychiatry), you could have wound up, on a happier path, as a youth.

Maybe you are on a happier path now?

But, I wonder, why not shed your psychiatric identity? Why call yourself “Bipolar 1”? Is it because you continue to rely on psychiatrists, on their prescriptions, and they think of you that way?

(Please realize that by my asking such questions, I really don’t mean to suggest that I know the answer to them.)

Certainly, you needn’t answer my questions.

You needn’t answer my comment at all; I won’t feel offended if you don’t answer it; but, I do wonder why you call yourself that…

Respectfully,

~Jonah

P.S. —

Via http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/iatrogenic

(based on the Random House Dictionary):

i•at•ro•gen•ic

adjective

(of a medical disorder) caused by the diagnosis, manner, or treatment of a physician.

“I am not offended by you trying to explain my mother. I think in one way or another, my whole life has been about my inability to explain my mother.”

acidpop5,

I’m glad you’re not offended. And, believe it or not, what I was doing was not trying to explain your mother; though, I can surely see why you’d think that’s what I was trying to do.

Really, I wasn’t trying to do that, as I don’t think that referring someone to a behavioral ‘syndrome’ explains much, at all; what I was doing was just letting you know what was coming to mind, as I’d read your first comment (above, July 30, 2013 at 8:22 am) …and was thinking about ‘Münchausen syndrome by proxy’ then, as some of what you were saying about your mom reminded me of some aspects of the most typical descriptions of that particular, presumed behavioral ‘syndrome’; but here, again, I emphasize (more strongly than before): People can demonstrate some aspects and not others, of any given, presumed behavioral ‘syndrome’.

So, IMO, those ‘official’ descriptions of such presumed ‘syndromes’ should be seen for what they are: very limited — and, potentially, very misleading — blunt instruments.

They can all too easily ‘clobber’ a person’s character, without explaining much at all; they can seem as though ‘the explanation’ for someone’s behaviors… while yet never really explaining their behaviors, in any meaningful way.

So, at best, they’re conversation starters. They can be a way to begin reflecting, with someone whom we’ve never before spoken (I’d never spoken with you before), on what may or may not be happening in someone else’s (a third person’s) life, when that person is apparently behaving in ‘unexplainable’ ways; but, there are so many risks in starting conversations that way! — especially, the risk of getting stuck on the label…

Getting stuck on the label is *always* a mistake, IMO, as psych labels (even ‘just’ labels indicating ‘behavioral syndromes’) can do a *lot* of harm — considering how people can demonstrate certain described aspects of a presumed ‘syndrome’ and not other aspects… and considering that people are constantly changing their behaviors, at least somewhat.

The labels can all too easily wind up being so very misleading; IMO, they should never be taken too seriously.

And, in fact, to be honest, right now, I almost wish I hadn’t mentioned it.

The only reason I did mention that label was, it was coming to mind, and I wasn’t filtering my thoughts as I wrote and posted my comment!

(Did not sleep well last night… was a bit groggy this morning and wound up writing that comment, off the top of my head.)

And, hey, guess what: here, now, again, as I did not manage to catch a nap today, and it’s getting late, I’m writing ‘unfiltered’ again… and shall mention what’s coming to mind, after reading your reply (which, by the way, I do appreciate very much).

A few things are coming to mind…

Two are Huffington Post articles, by Dr. Peter Breggin.

1) “The Hazards of Psychiatric Diagnosis”: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/dr-peter-breggin/mental-health-the-hazards_b_618507.html

And, 2) “Our Psychiatric Civilization”: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/dr-peter-breggin/our-psychiatric-civilizat_b_586498.html

I am also thinking about Alice Miller’s book, The Truth Will Set You Free (2001).

Maybe you know of it? (I see they have used copies at Amazon.com…)

Though I’ve not looked at that book for years, I am thinking about that book and feeling I should recommend it to you.

Maybe I should review it before recommending it, but first I’ll have to find my copy; will try to do that tomorrow…

Now I’m off to sleep.

Respectfully,

~Jonah

“I embraced my diagnosis because there was nothing left to lose, but by admitting my diagnosis, maybe one day one of those aspiring psych majors will see behaviors the dsm doesn’t describe and save a life.”

acidpop5,

My heart goes out to you, as it goes out to anyone who was, likewise, dragged into the psychiatric system as a kid; your story is at least as heartrending as any other psychiatric survivor’s story, that I’ve ever heard (and, I presume you’ve barely touched on the details, in these few comments of yours).

You use the phrase, “my disorder,” and I think you’re referring there, to the “Bipolar” label that you got stuck with, as a child, yes?

As a result of a divorce court judge hearing of that psychiatric labeling (“Bipolar”), which you garnered as a child, you wound up, eventually (as an adult) so totally separated from your own kids (you explain, “Six years and I couldn’t even talk to them on the phone”), your story becomes a *most* certain cautionary tale.

But, I have focused on that one passage of yours, which I quote (in italics), at the top of this comment, because I wonder: Why did you think it benefited anyone that you “embraced [that] diagnosis”???

I do understand your saying that you fear psychiatry.

(You wrote in your earlier comment, on July 30, 2013, 5:33 pm: “I also learned to fear psychiatry absolutely. It took me until last year to stop taking my medications, and I never told my doctor. I still go see him. I still fill his prescriptions, and I completely believe that psychiatry is no more than greed driven therapeutic nihilism, but that little label cost me more than I could have ever imagined.”)

You haven’t yet made a full ‘break’ from psychiatry. From that point of view, I can understand why you might still call yourself “bipolar” in some company.

What I can’t understand is why, as an adult, you “embraced” that ‘Bipolar’ so-called “diagnosis.”

Perhaps, I’m misinterpreting you, as you use that word?

To me, “embrace” is a very strong ‘action’ word, that suggests a whole-hearted acceptance, of something (or, of someone); and, when I ’embrace’ a concept, I believe in it.

So, unless you correct me, I’m inclined to presume (from all that you say, thus far), that: You actually believe in the “Bipolar” classification (for adults); and, you think it’s OK for adults to believe they are “Bipolar”; indeed (from all that you say), I presume that you feel “Bipolar 1” is actually a fitting “diagnosis” for yourself, by this point?

Or, maybe I am wrong to interpret you in that way?

Of course, I’d be glad to find that I’m wrong about that; I’d be happy to realize that I’m misreading you; after all, I don’t think anyone truly benefits, in the long run, from anyone’s ’embracing’ (i.e., buying-in to) any “diagnosis” of “Bipolar” (except for psychiatrists and Big Pharma).

Respectfully,

~Jonah

P.S. — a favorite quote…

“Criteria in DSM-IV are so sloppy that I often tell people I could diagnose a ham sandwich with bipolar disorder.” ~Niall McLaren M.D.

(McLaren is a psychiatrist who now blogs for this MIA website; you needn’t fear him, IMO; though, I don’t recommend blind trust; you needn’t trust any psychiatrist, really; and, certainly, I can understand and empathize with those who care to just distance themselves from all psychiatrists…)

What do you think of therapists, I wonder?

Have you read any Alice Miller?

Do you know of Paula J. Caplan? Maybe you’ve seen her website; I will suggest one page that could be of special interest to you, as you’ve studied law: http://www.psychdiagnosis.net/lawsuits.html

“…we aren’t defined by the words that are used to describe us, we define those words.”

acidpop5,

With all due respect, I strongly question that conclusion, of yours. (I very strongly question it.) It’s a conclusion that’s been suggested, to me, in so many ways, previously — reiterated by other psychiatric survivors — including some who have (like you have) suffered quite miserably as a result of their “diagnoses” having been publicly exposed.

You say,

…the label had taken everything it can from me, and I won’t allow it to only be a source of negativity in my life. If people respect or admire things about who I am: hi, I’m bipolar.

There, you are suggesting that you’ll proudly wear that “bipolar” label, in attempt to be a respectable and admirable example of person with that “diagnosis” (if I read you correctly).

No one can reasonably claim you’d be ‘wrong’ for doing that; but, I encourage you to question that strategy, because I think it could cause you much grief, in due time.

It’s a strategy that’s effectively sold to millions of “patients” of psychiatry, daily (indeed, many “patients” sell it to each other, to their great detriment, ultimately); thus, their lives are endlessly ‘entrusted’ to the psychiatric system.

This notion, that a person supposedly needn’t necessarily be negatively effected by his/her collected psychiatric labels, reflects a belief that most psychiatrists love to hear articulated by their “patients”; though, it is a delusional belief.

It completely denies reality.

Psychiatry’s most damning ‘mental illness’ labels are those which are widely considered to represent “serious mental illness” [(e.g., that label which you’re choosing to embrace, “Bipolar 1”)]; they are accursed burdens) — as “serious mental illness” implies: ‘You can’t be trusted to think for yourself, and you certainly can’t ever be free of psychiatry!’

In fact, in most people’s minds, it means: ‘you should be on meds.’

But, you say,

It’s hard to think of myself as being ill, if that makes sense.

Yes, of course, that makes sense — to me.

It makes perfect sense to me.

You don’t think your ’emotional’ experiences reflect ‘illness’; that makes outstanding sense to me, because, in my view, emotions should never be pathologized.

‘Mental illness’ is a metaphor; it doesn’t refer to real illness.

That seems to be a fairly well accepted truth, amongst a majority of psychiatric survivors.

Yet, I’ve spoken with psychiatric survivors who present the same view (in their own words) that you’re presenting, in your conclusion; they’d fully agree with you; they, too, aim to take pride in their psychiatric labeling.

I no longer argue with anyone who presents me with that view and strategy on psychiatric labeling, but I believe that such pride, as that, leads many, countless “patients” to be ‘bipolar’ in effect; after all, one day they’ll be amongst their fellow survivors, feeling prideful, considering themselves ‘special’ (‘touched with fire,’ etc.); and, the next day they’ll be elsewhere, feeling shame…

Two worlds are created.

In the wider world (the world at large), they’ll have to hide their so-called “diagnosis” — or face the likelihood of being ‘discriminated against’ because of it.

They choose to proudly wear their labels and simultaneously, inadvertently accept — and even ’embrace’ — much of the negativity (i.e., negative, self-fulfilling prophecies) of those so-called “diagnoses” that psychiatrists enter into their charts.

They pay all the truly outrageous costs of remaining “patients” of psychiatry, including, most tragically, the cost of making themselves endlessly vulnerable to psychiatric abuse (forced ‘treatment,’ etc.).

So, of course, you are terrified by psychiatrists.

(That’s what embracing “bipolar 1” and the “schizophrenia” label and any other label that’s associated with ‘psychosis’ will do…)

Again, I emphasize, that: it’s really not my aim to argue that point, which you offer, in your conclusion.

I will simply say, at last, that your first few lines are no less questionable, in my view.

You write,

Do I believe bipolar disorder exists is probably an easier question. It’s such an old concept. I think the earliest description I’ve read comes from the second century…

I strongly beg to differ.

“Bipolar disorder” is relatively modern creation, of KOLs in the APA.

“Bipolar 1” is a sociopolitical construct.

Just look it up, Google it, read about it online; 99% if what you read about it, there, will be associated with and dependent upon modern phenomena.

(I know you’re relating it to ancient reports of ‘madness,’ but that’s not what “bipolar 1” is, at all; “bipolar 1” is a creation of modern times, modern technology, modern pharmaceuticals… and the revolving-door “hospital” system that so many “patients” with that label wind up locked into.)

Certainly, you can try to make people believe that those labels mean something other than what the APA tells us they mean.

You can suggest that “bipolar” is a metaphorical ‘illness,’ not a literal illness.

I’ll understand what you’re saying, in those regards — and so will many who visit this website.

But, just watch what the mainstream news media does with that label.

E.g., see how many lonely wives, middle school teachers, shall get caught in ‘romantic’ affairs with a student and wind up claiming to be “bipolar”; and, see how that effects public opinion, when it comes to addressing those, such as yourself, who are tagged with that “bipolar” label.

Indeed, see how many men and women accused of the most horrific sorts of murders wind up called “bipolar” or “schizophrenic” — as legal defense teams strive to find ways to get their clients out of taking responsibility for the crimes they’ve committed when supposedly ‘psychotic’.

The ‘seriously mentally ill’ can’t be trusted, don’t you see?

Indeed, geneticists keep telling us, via the mainstream media, that they’re on the verge of discovering genes which make people ‘vulnerable’ to developing such conditions.

In that way, ‘mental illness’ loses its sense of being a metaphor, in most people’s minds — and becomes (in most people’s minds) a ‘real’ illness.

Concepts that begin as abstractions and once were metaphors, wind up seeming as though straightforward realities.

The following passages are from an article in Physicsworld.com, by Robert P Crease, a historian of science and Chairman of the Department of Philosophy at Stony Brook University:

Expressions, however, can stop being metaphors when we forget about their origins, and cease to connect the expressions with the world from which they came. Think of the “bonnet” of a car – or what Americans call a “hood” – which no longer prompts us to think about head garments. Pointers can turn into names. But only certain laboratory terms make this discontinuous jump – this quantum leap – to becoming pointers and names. It generally occurs for scientific ideas that, as Eddington wickedly put it, are “simple enough to be misunderstood” or, rephrased more charitably, “simple enough to be suggestive”.

But scientific words can make this transition in other ways besides filtrative metaphors. In “creative” metaphors, the priority of the terms is swapped. In an extraordinary linguistic reversal, the secondary term deepens in meaning through the metaphor to subsume its previous meaning as well as that of the primary term. The pointer becomes the pointed at.

In physics, for instance, a “wave” originally meant something that took place in a medium. However, its metaphorical extension to light (which does not require a medium in which to move) and thence to quantum phenomena (where what moves are probabilities) changed its meaning. A
“wave” is now not just a metaphor but the correct term for light itself, and other things such as probability variations that it did not originally name.

http://www.robertpcrease.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/Fruitloopery.pdf

One can surely attempt to single-highhandedly create a linguistic reversal (such as, I believe, you are now trying to do, in your own life, by embracing the “bipolar disorder” label).

But, how many really succeed? One in ten million? (I doubt that many.)

Maybe some few manage to do it, to some small extent, in their own personal lives; some may well happily embrace certain, relatively grave ‘diagnostic’ labels they’ve received, that represent various ‘serious’ illnesses and/or metaphorical illnesses.

But, what happens when one fails to convince those whom one knows and whom one is expected to do business with, that his/her own ‘self-embraced’ psychiatric label is not actually a real illness?

And/or, what happens when one fails to convince others that s/he is not seriously ill?

Most likely, the vast majority of people whom we’ll meet in our lifetimes will never accept or understand that what you’re now calling “bipolar disorder” is not, in fact, an illness.

Some may figure that ‘it’ doesn’t always require ‘medicating’; yet, when faced with individuals whom they know as having been tagged with that label, most people will approach with caution…; and, they’ll want reassurances that such individuals are under the ‘care’ of a psychiatrist.

So, if you choose to embrace that label, prepare for a lifetime of dependency upon psychiatry… and all the risks of being periodically “hospitalized” that go along with such dependency.

There’s so much harm that comes from being tagged with those psychiatric labels, you could not pay me any amount of money to embrace one.

Respectfully,

~Jonah