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Showing posts with label values. Show all posts
Showing posts with label values. Show all posts

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Lesson Learned

Here is another blog entry I wrote awhile ago and wanted to edit, possibly re-write, but I have determined that I am not that great a writer and I'd rather get this one out then make more (then about two...maybe three) pathetic attempts at "perfection." (or is it four?)
So though it is not yet what I want it to be I will share my lesson learned with flaws and all.

I'd like to share one of the most valuable lessons I have learned from an individual. It is as lesson I learned the night I got to spend in the waiting room of a Mental Health Facility in Florida. I mentioned this stay in my blog entry "the story of my crazy little life."
Remember I was an eighteen year old Utah raised girl in a Mental Health Facility in Riviera Beach Florida being held against my will, but not entirely unjustly.
Everyone who was brought there had to wait in the waiting room until they could be evaluated by the psychiatrist and determined if they were "safe" to leave. I was brought in in the very early evening, shortly after the psychiatrist had left and she would not be returning until the next morning, if they needed her, and since the next morning was Easter Sunday she insisted upon attending her Easter Services ( though a bit annoying to me at the moment, I admired and appreciated the priority she put on that. Really of all people, she should be there celebrating and honoring a second chance at life. I was glad she went).
But for those who had to wait the accommodations were; one enclosed room with two hospital like cots and the waiting room. As best I could tell the "bedroom" had been claimed by a frighteningly large and very strange woman and a very reclusive male that I remember very little about (so little that I have wondered if he was a figment of my imagination). Though they confiscated all weapons, belts, shoelaces and shoes I had no desire to sleep in an enclosed room under these circumstances even if the door didn't lock. The rest of us got to find a place among the benches and floors. I was fortunate enough to get a bench. Of course there was the security of one night "receptionist" watching over us from behind the counter. We were limited to the waiting room and a short hall that led to a padded room and a bathroom. I wondered if I might ever find myself in a padded room. It didn't look that bad, sterile but strangely comforting.
That night I made friends with a man (we'll call him Derek) whose mother had him "baker acted." The Baker Act was the statute that allowed a person to be held against there will until they were evaluated by psychiatrist if someone in authority or a close family member felt that they may be a threat to themselves or others. Another man (we'll call him Todd) who had been brought from the county jail for threatening suicide if they insisted on putting him into a cell with a man that he knew would kill him anyway (only in a much more brutal way). I actually felt very safe with these two interesting men.
Around 2:30 in the morning a police officer brought another man in that was talking from the get go and I was never entirely sure whom to. I wasn't as comfortable with this man and I felt very small and naive. He was not a large man himself and rather looked undernourished. I was struck with the idea that he might be homeless.
From the moment he got there this man seemed to be talking about the "voices that were telling me to do bad things." As I lay there on the bench, pretending to still be asleep, I remember thinking "this man is genuinely crazy, I wonder what they will do with him?" Just like the rest of us he got a blanket and a pillow and was to find a place to sleep in the waiting room with the rest of us.
"Huh, this could be interesting."
I have to admit I was a bit nervous. He took a bench/ or the floor in close proximity and proceeded to tell his story. I am not sure if he was telling me, Derek, or just whoever was listening or nobody at all, but his story was definitely the most exciting there that night.
He began talking about when the voices started to come back. He said at first they were easy to ignore and he'd acknowledge them and would then tell them to go away. He was hanging out with his friends (which was entertaining in and of itself trying to imagine what his friends might be like) when the voices started getting harder to ignore. They started to tell him to do bad things. He told them that he didn't want to and that they should go away. At first the they'd go away for a time, but then they wouldn't go away. They started asking him to hurt people. He said he didn't want to. They started getting louder. He started telling his friends that they needed to take him to the hospital because he didn't want to hurt anyone. The voices morphed into Jesus, but this man knew that Jesus wouldn't want him to hurt people so he told "the voice" that, and that he didn't want to hurt anyone. He raised his voice and got stern with his friends "YOU take me to the Hospital right now, before I hurt you."

I am not sure how many times he had to ask his friends to take him (he repeated himself a lot) or how long the whole thing took to transpire, but the police officer had brought him to "our" facility from the hospital. I listened intently and though I was not sure if or what they did at the hospital, I hoped they would have done or given him something.

He was the first one to see the psychiatrist the next morning.

I remember being completely intrigued by the whole thing. It made me think, in fact it has ever sense. I have often thought "if this man, as crazy as he was, could learn to recognize this and maintain some values and self control then I could learn to deal with my issues, maintain some sense of self and be responsible for my actions." I could learn to recognize if I was creeping close to the edge. I think this experience has also contributed significantly to my realizing the importance of maintaining and teaching values on and in all levels of society. As our minds approach deviance from some very important core values I think it is import to keep them in check and get help before the "voices or feelings" get too loud.
This was and is a valuable lesson learned. I have sense been fortunate enough to have "coincidental" interactions and situations that have helped keep me ahead of the game (well at least ahead of some of the severity's). The old adage suggests that "an once of prevention is worth a pound of cure" and I strongly believe this is applicable to Mental illness and Mental Health as well.
I, personally, have been profoundly grateful for people who have been willing to talk about, write and/or share their stories and experience. It has helped me profoundly and personally and it helps to educate people in one of the final frontier's of medicine and health. I believe that through others stories, knowledge and help that we can better learn to treat and understand some very real physiological problems that as of yet cannot be tested by conventional means without greater risk to health and safety. The brain is a very powerful but also very delicate organ and it is not immune to malfunctions. That does NOT make a person less of a person.
These are some of my beliefs which, I suppose, is why I so strongly feel the desire to share my own experiences in both treating present symptoms and problems and preventing rapid progression of my own likely degenerate medical condition.

Monday, March 23, 2009

I'd rather Say It and be Wrong then Not Say It and be Right: beware of the Ups

Often e-mails I write turn into something entirely different then intended, that is just how I work. Today I want to share some bits of one that did just that.

"I find that I do great with just about everything, then don't maintain it and find myself at the bottom where I will start doing EVERYTHING at the same time again to get me up, which it does, but once again I can't maintain it and I come sliding back down (if not crashing). I believe that this is probably a pretty normal cycle but it is just a bit too extreme for me and good or bad my mind turns to death as the answer to everything even though I think it is a totally lame answer and I don't really agree with it or want to die. It is weird and hard to explain, I don't particularly care for it.
I have to admit, when medication starts working it is hard not to think that everyone could use it. I think that is me still holding on to a bit of pride and not wanting to be "different" as well as being genuinely concerned that someone else may be suffering needlessly.
I have mostly decided that one of my philosophy's is: I don't want to assume that I know how another person will take/use/need what I have to say, but if I know it is important I'll put it out there and let them be the judge for themselves. I'd rather say it and be wrong then not say it and be right."

Which brings me to a point I'd like to make, one that  I don't recall ever being warned of or educated on from any of the books I've skimmed and read, in any of the meetings I've had with various counselors, psychologists, psychiatrists, etc; It is something I have had to figure out on my own from both my own experience and the experiences of others. Yet it is a bit of information that I think could be profoundly helpful in preventing a whole lot of difficult and dreadful occurrence's. It is this: Beware of the ups.
The ups can be more dangerous and frightening if there is a chemical imbalance but until you have been through a few yourself or you have seen a few that are close to you, you really don't know what to watch out for or even to watch out at all.
So I want to say: If you find yourself cycling or rapid cycling, then beware of the ups, an overly inflated ego or sense of self, and/or euphoric type feelings. It is hard to think that there might be a problem when you are in an up but ups take many forms and since we are often feeling so good in an up it is all too often too late before we realize that things aren't quiet as they seem. Ups can also be impatience and a short fuse. Ups can even be narcissistic (I can do no wrong). Ups can give you the energy you need to fulfil desires for some of those not-so-good obsessions.
Ups can be good, but up or down or anywhere in between, we need a core set of value's, a sense of right and wrong that we can cling to even when that is not who we are at the moment. When we feel that we are not who or what we know we should be and/or genuinely want to be, we don't change our value's, we seek help. That is the mentally responsible thing to do.
Though I don't entirely know what was going on with my brother it is apparent that he died in an up cycle.
So if I've burst a bubble or two I am sorry, don't mistake what I am saying for "you can't be happy," but rather learn to recognize chemically induced ups. Then you will be able to find a happy that is genuine and lasting (and for some of us, quite refreshing- even if we may find ourselves asking if this might be a little boring ;)).