Consumer Regret
Eventually I realized the drugs were safe and effectiveâfor those prescribing them. Shrinks can never be sued for malpractice since it's "standard care" even if they kill you.
Fatherland Dreamland Motherland Hinterland
I grew up in Rhodesia, a British colony in southern Africa. Until the age of 16, I lived on the grounds of Ingutsheni Mental Hospital where my father worked. As a psychiatrist, he had enormous power.
No More Tears: In Memory of Kathleen Fliller
My friend Kathleen Fliller ended her life last month. She had written a chronicle of her struggles with psychiatric drug withdrawal and akathisia, which she asked me to share with Mad In America to be published in hopes that it might help others not feel so alone.
Lessons Learned While Sharing About Voice Hearing
I slowly recognized that I wanted to fight every single person who used language based on their learned beliefs about âmental illness.â They didnât know any betterâso why did I feel so angry?
âFloss on the Wavesâ: My Sisterâs Journey
It takes a long time to recover from a psychotic episode, I understand now, and I wish someone had found a way, especially during those early years of her troubles, to give Rachel more space and time to find her own path to health.
Childhood Gaslighting: When Difference Receives a Diagnosis
Aside from the home, school is typically where we learn our worth or lack of it. We learn what we are taught, and how we are taught is often what we are taught.
People Donât Recover So Spectacularly from Criminal Psychiatry
Psychiatry and Catholicism have too much in common, both founded by men, upon questionable source materials. I knew I was in danger, not being helped.
Postpartum Anxiety, Psychiatric Drugs and Paternalism
My postpartum anxiety diagnosis became subsumed by an arbitrary diagnosis of depression. And this diagnosis has followed me for 30 years and counting.
Reversing My Diagnosis
I was fine until traumatic events collided and pushed me to a state of emotional crisis. Yet I emerged this time as a different person, and knew I had to exit the mainstream mental health system.
NGRI: The Gilliganâs Island of the Criminal Justice System
I approached the NGRI system with the belief that my commitment would be short and sweet and that in less than one year I would be back to living in the community. That year turned into nearly two decades.
Breaking with Disorder: The Invisible Flames of Mental Illness Labels
These labels left me docile to a broken mental health systemâa carceral system that viewed me interchangeably as a patient or an object, but never a person.
Truth-Telling and Consequences
Itâs at that point of asking for help from someone in authority, someone we should be able to trust, that many have their story stolen from them.
Akathisia: Very Nearly the Death of Me
Akathisia is truly an indescribable thingâand has to be one of the most hellish experiences on earth. Itâs like your brain is hijacked. Every day I thought could be my last.
My Partner Abused Me. I Was the One Locked Up
Every day, psychiatrists in Australiaâs mental health system write reports denying the sanity of women who are victims of sexual assault, rape, or domestic violence. I know: I was one of them.
Necessary Powers: How I Became Fire
When a person is in hell, surrounded by enemies, without a protector or strong force on their side of any kind, that person needs to become their own powerful spokesperson.
Polydrugged With 12 Different Drugs… For Insomnia
Before my nightmare with psychiatric medication began, my life was full and happy. But since being prescribed 12 different psychiatric drugs in one year, I have become bedridden, ill and jobless.
Why I Fight for Trauma-Informed Systems
I am not sure what was worse: being abused growing up while my community documentedâthen ignoredâmy torment, or being attacked for going public with my story.
When Treatment Makes You Sick: The Eating Disorder Clinic
Eight years after beginning âtreatmentâ for an âeating disorderâ, I was eating worse than ever. Yet three years after quitting that âtreatmentâ, food is a pleasure, not a problem.
Becoming the Trauma-Informed Trainer I Needed
It was my experience, which I later found was supported by research, that exercise had the power to help me heal, but it also had the potential to exacerbate my trauma symptoms.
So Long, Pill Mill: A Letter to My Former Patients and Their Families
I love being a psych nurse practitioner, and I never want to feel that my only role is pushing pills. The private practice I started is my effort to move away from this dysfunctional system.
Suicidality: When Your Feelings Are Too Dangerous
After finding a cop at my door, I learned it wasnât safe to talk about my feelings of wanting to die. As a result, I spent the better part of the next decade not telling anyone when I was suicidal.
Meds vs. No Meds? My Search for Freedom of Mind
I have stayed on the same daily, 10 mg dosage of Abilify for the last few years. Although I am compliant, I am not satisfied: I do not feel whole. I do not feel authentic.
When Homosexuality Was a “Disease”: My Story of Abuse
The horrors I was forced to undergo to âtreatâ my homosexuality are now unthinkable, but continue to raise questions about psychiatryâs ethics.
Making Mental Health an Ongoing Priority:Â A Patch Adams Approach
My brotherâs sudden death and Mental Health Awareness Month spurred me to spend May making small, very personal efforts to both honor his memory and move the mental health conversation forward.
The Worst Thing: How My Motherâs Death Pushed Me to Overcome OCD
The goal of creating a legacy for my mother required that I go beyond managing my symptoms to confronting my OCD at its roots. I had to fundamentally change my understanding of anxiety.
