Wednesday, May 22, 2019

Comments by 30-watt-lightbulb

Showing 7 of 7 comments.

  • This sounds like a TENS unit, which is a small device fairly commonly used to treat muscle and nerve pain. I have neck and back issues and use them as needed.

    It can cause the nearby muscles to twitch if turned up too high and it can cause skin irritation if used for a long time.

    Most doctors will inform the patient not to use the electrodes on the head, directly over the spine, or directly over the heart. If you do end up putting it on your spine, you’re in for quite the adventure because it can cause stimulation throughout the entire nerve. For example, if I put it right over a major nerve for moving the arm, my entire arm twitches.

    If I had a kid, I’d certainly want more of an explanation than this:

    “The system delivers the low-level electrical stimulation to the branches of the trigeminal nerve, which sends therapeutic signals to the parts of the brain thought to be involved in ADHD. While the exact mechanism of eTNS is not yet known, neuroimaging studies have shown that eTNS increases activity in the brain regions that are known to be important in regulating attention, emotion and behavior.”

    This reeks of the whole “throwing shit at the wall and seeing what sticks” mindset.

    People who prescribe it should have to use it themselves!

  • I’ve been seen as mentally ill all my life and it really *has* negatively impacted me because I became a self-fulfilling prophecy. I saw myself as someone who should never work on bettering themself because I would always be sick and amount to nothing.

    For example, I’ve been diagnosed with OCD for almost ten years now. For about eight out of those ten years, I’ve been a mess of obsessing about things and following through on those compulsions. I washed my hands until they bled. I restricted food until I was hospitalized. I would avoid physical touch. I avoided leaving the house.

    When I finally started reading this site and the viewpoints of other psychiatric survivors, I realized that I didn’t have to be limited by my diagnosis.

    For whatever reason, this has made me go “Okay, these obsessive thoughts are bullshit. I can do better and work through this.”

    I think that for a lot of people, a formal diagnosis gives them something to hold on to. It’s something that validates their struggles and suffering. A lot of people are unsure about the human condition because we’re all supposed to be our best selves all the time. We’re supposed to be happy and productive all day, every day. We’re not supposed to be sad or angry or fearful or any of those “ugly” feelings.

    But there are a lot of people who are trying their best and still feeling horrible. I don’t know what the right answer is for everybody. I think that an important question to ask is “Am I feeling this way because I’m expected to feel this way?”

    People in general seem to have a hard time with letting themselves feel *anything*.

    Putting the onus fully on the patient’s side seems a little like victim-blaming. Society and capitalism play into it and it’s not as easy as “just be happy” or “don’t be anxious.”

  • I had much the same experience in college. The center at my school was woefully equipped to help anyone, even though there were a *ton* of students struggling (The school was/is a pressure cooker by design. The “best” rise to the top. There are several suicides every year.).

    I wanted to go into a DBT group where I hoped I would learn some skills on how to wrangle my strong emotional reactions. While I was able to participate in the group, I had to get a therapist outside of the school because I was seen as “high risk.” The school wanted to make sure that it had its ass covered legally and I had to sign an agreement that no matter what happened the school could not be held liable for what happened to me.

    I ended up going to see one of the only psychiatric specialists for OCD in the area. She came to me highly recommended by the school. I went looking for help and found abuse instead. The psychologist invalidated my feelings, gaslit me, and told me that I would never get “better” without a drastic increase in my medications and a few months inside an inpatient facility.

    The entire time I saw this psych she was constantly trying to push me into the deep end of exposure therapy. I was struggling with strong contamination fears. One of the things she had me do was to pick through the garbage that she had in her office and then not wash my hands. During the time I was handling the garbage, I was to not think about anything else other than the fact that it was germy trash and to “face my fears” until my body gave in and just stopped triggering my fight-or-flight instinct.

    She disliked me a lot, mainly because I was not new to therapy or psychology. She’s one of those people who likes to keep her patients on a tight leash and for them to not expand their knowledge on anything. After our first few sessions, I looked at her floor to ceiling bookcases packed with books on psychology and asked her if she had any recommendations. She told me that *she* would tell me what I needed to know and stressed that I should *not* read about different therapies or talk to other people about therapy.

    While this is all going on, I was really struggling with stress from school. The breaking point for me was a few months into therapy when I had finals I needed to work on, grocery shopping to do, and errands to run. I didn’t have time to have a panic attack.

    When I politely told her this much, she told me I was non-compliant and said that I should not return to her office. She told me again that I’d never get better without her treatment, but that she couldn’t treat me until I had a few months of inpatient care and a new drug regime.

    Needless to say, I got worse instead of better. Any benefit I would have gotten from CBT because she used it as a weapon against me.

    I’ve got other stories about other times with other people that I’m sure I’ll share here. I’ve stupefied counselors and therapists with my experiences.

  • “Who in their right mind would allow themselves to be dosed with this junk?”

    I think you may have proved your point right there. The people who *are* going to be getting these treatments are desperate. This promises almost instant relief.

    I really can’t blame anyone, though. We’re taught that our brains are broken. That medicine can save us from ourselves. It’s easy to justify any treatment if you’re just trying to make the pain go away.

  • I really can’t believe they’re pushing esketamine even though it doesn’t have the research to back it up. These experiments should have to be repeated at least a few times and their effects tested before it goes to the public.

    I feel bad for the people who may take this and have a “bad trip.” My brain does the dissociation thing all by itself and it’s *not* as great as most people think.

    This just makes me frustrated because they take advantage of people who are suffering and looking for a way out. If it were a one time dose, then it’d be a different story. But it is a twice a week dose for a month and then “maintenance” doses for who knows how long.

    It’s a good cash grab, though, as more people are labeled as “treatment resistant” these days and the use of psychiatric meds continues to climb to higher and higher.

  • Hi, you may remember me from your last article.

    Looking over the materials, I wonder how the heck I avoided a juvenile bipolar diagnosis. I looked at the text for “The Explosive Child” and noticed myself in it right away. But looking back on it, a main reason I went over the top when I got angry is because that’s what was modeled for me. My dad was abused as a kid and though he didn’t go all out on me, I was still affected by his temper and feared him when he was angry.

    The problem wasn’t that I had a dysfunctioning brain — it’s that I was part of a dysfunctional family! I think that if someone had seen *that* instead of blaming the problem on me, then I would have had an entirely different life.

    I think that the stigma of being “ill” also weighs very heavily on kids. The overarching narrative for someone with depression is that they will always be vulnerable to it and that it could come back at any time, so better keep taking your drugs! It makes kids fearful of their own mind, which can set off a chain reaction where the child expects to get worse so they do get worse.

    Going further, once a kid is pegged as sick, they’re watched like a hawk. The kid is fearful? Anxiety disorder, we have drugs for that. The kid is angry? Bipolar disorder, we have drugs for that. The kid is excitable? ADHD, we have drugs for that.

    It just leads to a self-perpetuating cycle.

  • This has been going on since I was in grade school back in the early 00’s. I was misbehaving in school (or refusing to go because I was bored) and I got sent to a child psychiatrist who gave me “good kid medicine” — Trazodone and Paxil — when I was 6. I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Depression.

    I do have to wonder how exactly the medication affected my personality and the entire way that I think. I’ve been pegged with a host of new disorders to follow up the original two: Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Panic Disorder, Phobias, Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Depersonalization/derealization disorder, Eating Disorders, Avoidant Personality Disorder with Borderline features, Dependent Personality Disorder with Borderline features.

    And those are just the ones I’ve had someone go “Yes, you have that. This is what’s wrong with you. Let me put this in your file.”

    Last summer I accidentally ended up in a psych ward (don’t tell anyone at the ER that you’ve thought about suicide before). In addition to all of those, I was starting to be scouted out for Bipolar Disorder (I started getting asked questions about mania). They also wanted to give me Topamax, which I refused.

    Thankfully, I find out about the effects of antipsychotics before I started taking them. I’ve been prescribed Risperdal and Zyprexa but I don’t want to mess with my mind any more than it has been. I’m on Paxil, Xanax, and Anafranil — all three with their own fun withdrawal experiences.

    Sometimes I wonder if I’m the crazy one or if I’m the only sane one.

    Thank you for reading my ramble. I’ve been following this website for a time (Since I first found “Mad in America” at my college’s library), but haven’t posted until today.