Anatomy of an Epidemic

 

In 2022, I read Robert Whitaker’s Anatomy of an Epidemic: Magic Bullets, Psychiatric Drugs, and the Astonishing Rise of Mental Illness in America. To say that I was skeptical would be an understatement. I started this weighty discourse ready to debunk the author’s claims. After all, we’ve had psychiatric medicines for years – surely they are helpful to the millions of Americans, including myself, who take them daily, right? The idea that the medications that are supposed to cure us could be worse than the condition itself is unthinkable. Yet this is the very concept Robert Whitaker is presenting.

It did not take long for my skepticism to evolve into outrage as I read case study after case study in which patients were very obviously misdiagnosed and over-medicated. The book also revealed how these psychotropic drugs were discovered in the first place, and why the concept of a “chemical imbalance” is not only a misnomer, but an out-and-out lie. By the time I got to the end of this book, I was determined to get off my prescribed antidepressants and to convince my family members to do so as well.

This week’s podcast is the beginning of an exploration of this profoundly disturbing book. We started recording and realized, almost two hours into the episode, that we had barely touched on the subject and would need to break it into multiple installments, as we did with the series on Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth in 2022. It’s a lot of information, but I hope you’ll stick with us. I promise it will be worth it in the end. It might just change your life. It has certainly changed mine.

Screaming in my Car and Other Nonsense

Sometimes I scream in my car. Everyone does it. Especially, in Dallas traffic on days that you just want to get home at a decent time and others are on their cell phone or in la-la land not paying attention to what they are doing. However, I am usually screaming at life’s frustrations.

I have a friend going through a rough patch in her life right now. This thought popped up one night when she was venting her frustrations and she asked me, “Do you ever just yell at yourself?” It took me a minute to realize it, but I do. I yell at myself quite often, usually in the car, and I told her this. She thought that it was uncommon to do so. I said that it wasn’t. We need to get the pent-up demons out. If screaming in your car helps, I am all for it.

Another thing that I do when I am going through enormous emotions that need to be released from my mind is write poetry. When I write poetry, it is like a scream or a catharsis of emotions tumbling out of my brain and onto paper (or the notepad on my phone). To me, the process of writing poetry has always been a visceral experience. I don’t think when I write it; I only feel. Sometimes I will go back and move lines around and add words so that the poem makes sense, but I don’t plan out a poem when I am writing it. I let raw emotion take over. When I am screaming in my car, it is the same experience. I need to let it out. It is my own form of shadow work.

This week on the podcast, we delved deep into the thought process of shadow work. What is shadow work? Shadow work is working with your unconscious mind to uncover the parts of yourself that you repress and hide from yourself. Or, your “shadow.” The shadow archetype, according to Carl Jung, exists as a “part of the unconscious mind and is composed of repressed ideas, weaknesses, desires, instincts, and shortcomings. The shadow forms out of our attempts to adapt to cultural norms and expectations.”

In other words, it is not culturally acceptable to go out in public and scream until you cannot scream anymore or go to a public place and just start throwing chairs (which may or may not be something I think about often). No, we compartmentalize our baser instincts into a shadow. Jung’s Collective Unconscious, or archetypes, are how I saw my own brain before I ever took a psychology class in college and learned about them. I called these pieces of my mind “compartments” where I stored experiences and information. I even wrote a poem when I was younger that perfectly described the shadow.

Why should we work on this shadow? Shadow work and understanding your inner darkness are crucial for your personal development and your mental health, but it can only happen when you are ready and willing to face that part of yourself. Trust me, I know. I ran from my shadow and my trauma for years and I’m only now scratching the surface of my inner psyche. In early 2021, I began seeing a counselor and it was the first time I had seen one in almost twenty years. I had many things to work out and I am still working them out. I needed help and admitting it was a great first step in conquering my inner demons. Do you have to go to counseling to participate in shadow work? No, I had been journaling and writing poetry for years, but sometimes we get overwhelmed and need extra help. Shadow work is not easy or fun. It will require you to look at the innermost workings of yourself that you have been compartmentalizing. I am still working on my shadow daily and it is a slow process to work out.

I would like to hear from our readers. Are you participating in shadow work? Do you have any tips and tricks? Let’s continue the conversation below.

If you would like to know more about shadow work and access some journal prompts to begin the process of healing, check out this article from Better Up.

What's in a Shadow?

 

I hope you were able to join us yesterday for our podcast about Shadow Work. I really enjoyed that discussion, because it is a topic that is very interesting to me. I have long believed that our beliefs and actions are influenced by our past, both good and bad, whether we are aware of those influences or not. Whereas some may point to a person and say that something is a “choice”, I say it is not so simple, and, therefore, not necessarily always a “choice” but rather, a consequence.

Take for instance a tree. Many things affect the growth of a tree: sunlight, soil, rain, temperature…the list goes on. While it is in the nature of a tree to grow straight and tall, any one of those influences can change the way a tree grows. If the tree doesn’t get enough sun, it may not be able to use the chlorophyll to achieve photosynthesis, the process of creating the carbohydrates that feed the plant. Insufficient rain will cause the plant to stall growth in an effort to conserve water to stay alive, or even to wither and die. Too much rain can distress a plant or even wash away the soil that surrounds the roots. If it gets too much rain over long periods of time, it can cause it to put out roots that are too shallow, thus leaving it vulnerable to wind and further erosion. Soil that doesn’t have the right nutrients won’t feed the plant, and if it is the wrong consistency, it may not be able to provide the right footing, retain needed water, or allow the plant to root effectively.

From these examples, it is easy to see how a change in the quality of any of these areas can dramatically affect a tree, and this is why every tree is different from every other tree. Even two trees grown from the same parent plant, growing side-by-side, can have very different life experiences and thus turn out to be two very different-looking trees. If no two oak trees look the same or need the same amount of water or nutrients, etc., then how much more so can environmental differences and past trauma affect humans – the most complicated and complex organism on our planet?

Our “shadow”, the deeply buried parts of our psyche, is created to protect us. It is the blister that builds on our heel to protect us from the rubbing of an ill-fitting shoe and the calluses on our hands from long hours of physical labor. It is a part of us. We can’t just pretend it’s not there, and we can’t feel anything that touches it without feeling the blister or callus itself. Neither pain nor numbness. It changes how we walk, how we grip things, and what choice of shoes we make the next day. It might make us want to wear gloves or quit a rough job altogether. Emotional damage is no different. Trauma, no matter how severe, leaves scars – scars that change how we feel, how we think, what we say, who we love, what we fear, and what we choose.

I know a great number of people who believe that everything is a choice. They hold the idea that poor behavior is a weakness, and that to overcome said weakness, one must only make a different choice. For example, an alcoholic has only to choose not to drink, or someone who gets their feelings hurt easily needs only to “buck up, buttercup.” If someone gives an example of why they make a poor choice, or why they behave a certain way, this faction claims they are “just making excuses”, blaming someone else for their own mistakes, thus dismissing any impact that environment or trauma may have on a person’s behavior. I think that’s like saying the tree will grow exactly thus, regardless of the amount of sun, wind, or rain. It’s just not realistic. Some people are conditioned to think and behave in certain ways – it’s the simple rule of cause and effect. Yes, people can make a choice to behave a certain way, but in order to do so, the person must have enough awareness and cognition in the moment to realize there even is a choice, and then they must have enough self-control to act on that awareness. Not an easy thing in the heat of the moment.

Do I think seeing things in this light is a valid excuse for “bad behavior”? Not in the least. It is a reason, nothing more. I believe it is up to each and every one of us to become aware of our shadow self…that hidden part of us that makes us behave a certain way…and integrate it into our full psyche – to let it influence us, but not control us. To bring that shadow into the light, so to speak. It’s not an easy task, but then, real growth never is. 

As I mentioned in the podcast, I have found that journaling is an effective way to work through some of those shadow thoughts. Working with a therapist has helped, too. And after mentioning it in the podcast, I decided to look further into creating a genogram of my own. Maybe it will help me recognize some of the patterns and unhealthy traits in my family history. At the very least, it will give me lots of material to journal about.

What do you think about shadow work? Have you tried it? Have you made a genogram of your own? Or do you think we should stop looking for reasons behind our behaviors and simply learn to do better? I’d like to hear about it.  Comment below or join us on our Facebook chat group, MMC Chat.

Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and Pet Peeves

Yesterday, the podcast Modern Musings talked about pet peeves. It was a fun discussion, but it also made me realize that I have a lot of pet peeves. One would even say that my pet peeves have pet peeves. I joke…I have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and when you have OCD, your life is a pet peeve.

What is OCD? According to the National Institute of Mental Health, ”Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) is a common, chronic, and long-lasting disorder in which a person has uncontrollable, reoccurring thoughts (obsessions) and/or behaviors (compulsions) that he or she feels the urge to repeat over and over.” People can have mild to severe cases of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. 

I feel like my tics are not life-altering, just annoying sometimes. I first noticed that I had odd tendencies when I was very young. I would get hyper-fixated on certain things. For example, I was obsessed with making lists and checking things off my list. I also had to have everything in alphabetical order. I would spend days alphabetizing and re-alphabetizing my books, movies, and magazines. There was nothing more satisfying to me than putting things in their place and having them organized. Over the years, I’ve found that without organization, life sometimes falls apart. Over the last eight years, I’ve also learned that sometimes you have to readjust your perception of how things should be and when to fight your battles.

My biggest OCD-related pet peeves:

• The trash should be in the trash can. I am so obsessed with this that I will throw trash away that’s not trash. My OCD has gotten me into trouble in the past. I have gotten so hard into “throwing away trash” mode that I have thrown away checks, important bills/papers, and keepsakes. In my classroom, if students leave their homework on the desk or the floor, I will throw it away (I do give them a disclaimer about this at the beginning of the year). One of the major problems I had with my ex-husband stemmed from his trash-hoarding (another form of OCD).
• The dishes should be in the sink. One thing I can’t stand is going to another person’s house and seeing dishes sitting everywhere. If the dishes are in the sink, I’m okay with it. But if they are sitting around the house, I fight the compulsion to take their dishes to the sink. If I have finished with a dish, I try to take it to the sink immediately. If I don’t, I will stare at it until it is in the sink.
• Dirty clothes should be in the hamper. That is another thing I can’t stand when I go to another person’s house. However, I don’t have an urge to pick up others’ dirty clothes. I can’t stand touching another person’s dirty clothes, especially if they smell like body odor. On the flip side, I won’t let anyone else touch my dirty clothing either.
• Pet hair on my skin or clothes. I know you are saying, “but you have four cats!” Just because they have insane amounts of hair (and compulsively shed in the summer) doesn’t mean I don’t love my cats (or anyone else’s pets). I have separate sets of clothes. Clothes I wear out and clothes I wear at home. I wash both sets of clothes separately. I have multiple sets of sheets and blankets that I am constantly washing to keep down the pet hair. I also groom my cats regularly to keep the hair at bay. If I go to a person’s house with pets, I am mindful of where I sit or what I wear. My reaction also stems from having a mild allergy to pet hair. I obsessively wash my arms and face if I feel hair sticking to them and making them itch.
• Stains on my clothes. This problem came to the forefront recently when I was on vacation. Jason and I ordered a seafood boil to share. I typically buy clothes in mixed patterns and avoid wearing solid colors because mixed patterns tend to hide stains on shirts better. So, I wore a solid shirt, not thinking about the restaurant where we were going to be eating. The boil we ordered was swimming in a butter sauce, and Jason immediately dug in, not caring if he stained his shirt (he usually only wears black anyway). By the end of our meal, I was freaking out because my shirt had stains all over it. I went to the bathroom and compulsively scrubbed the shirt in hopes the stains would not stick. I felt embarrassed afterward because I was having lunch with his family and I felt like they were looking at me oddly with my wet shirt (they weren’t).
• Food in my teeth. Like the stains on my clothes, this drives me crazy. If I am out and about and I do not have dental floss on me, I will not order something that I know will get in my teeth, otherwise, I will pick at my teeth until my teeth are bloody from trying to get out whatever is stuck in them. For this reason, I refuse to eat popcorn, whether it is a flavor I like or not. The memory of popcorn getting stuck in my teeth prevents me from eating it. I don’t like seeing food in other people’s teeth, either.
• Body odor. I do not have a good sense of smell. There are certain things I cannot smell and, in return, taste because I do not have a good sense of smell, except when it comes to body odor. If someone is not wearing deodorant or did not brush their teeth, I can smell it. I might not be able to smell dinner, or the flowers Jason buys me, but I can smell if you didn’t take a shower. I also take extra pains to make sure that I do not have body odor, myself. I compulsively shower and wash my hair at least once a day because I do not want to appear dirty or greasy. Back when I weighed over 400 pounds, my doctor commented on my obsessive cleanliness because she had never met someone of my size so clean.

This is not all of my pet peeves, and I am far from a perfectionist, which is one of the common misconceptions about someone with OCD. I don’t care if I cut straight, draw straight, or hang pictures on my wall straight. I cannot color inside the lines, and I don’t have a problem if my furniture or spice cabinet is aligned a certain way (just whether my spice cabinet is in alphabetical order). I do find myself repeating things, counting over and over, and hyper-fixating on certain tasks, but nothing to the detriment of my life or health. Yes, I have a lot of pet peeves, but I can live with them.

I want to hear from our readers. Do you have any pet peeves? Do they affect your life? Please, comment below or continue the conversation on our Facebook group: MMC Chat.

My Cats

House of Cards

My eyes are open and the alarm is blaring. I’m staring at the ceiling in the darkness. Breathing. Just breathing. I’m staring. My alarm…snooze. Nine more minutes and I’ll get up, I promise myself this every morning. Nine more minutes. I swear I’ll get up this time.

Everyone hits snooze, right? Generally, they fall back to sleep. Were they awake half the night making lists in their heads? Endless lists of things they worry about… things they need to buy at the store…or things they want to do to their house? I was. I was laying there thinking of everything in the world but sleep because that’s what I do. Sometimes I can read, work on crossword puzzles, or tell myself stories to put myself asleep. So, when I hit snooze, I’m awake, but I just don’t want to get out of bed. It’s not because I’m lazy. I mentally can’t get out of bed. I’m trapped in my head, unable to move. Every morning I have to untrap myself. I have to convince myself that getting out of bed is the right thing to do. It’s a vicious cycle.

I’m ill. I have a mental illness that I try to overcome every day of my life.

That’s not a normal thing to say, is it? What is normal? I can think of various instances from my childhood that point to the fact that I was not normal and that things were not okay. For example, I became so angry over something trivial that I ripped the bedpost off my bed and threw it across the room. Does that seem normal?

My generation grew up with the stigma that everything deemed “different” was bad, especially if you grew up in a small, conservative town in the south. Growing up, I quickly learned that to be a fully functional member of society, I had to hide the parts of myself that were considered “not okay.” In other words, “fake it until you make it.” So, that’s what I did. I became a master of my reality, and my only outlet growing up was through my writing. Throughout my adolescence, I went out of my way to not be noticed and to appear “normal.”

As I grew older, it was harder to fake. In my third year of college, circa 2004, I began to slowly give in to mania and depression. I stayed up all night, I stopped going to class, and I began sleeping all day until I had to get up to go to work. About halfway through my first semester, I was failing most of my classes except my creative writing class. It was the only one I enjoyed attending. The next semester wasn’t any better. I was on academic probation, and I still had a hard time making myself attend most of my classes other than my poetry writing elective. By that time, my mania/depression had turned into self-destructive behaviors. I quit my job to focus on college, but in reality, I was having a hard time making myself go to work and school. I figured that if I eliminated work, I would attend school. I was wrong. That summer, I was told I had to take a semester off from college due to my academic performance. At that point, I gave in and started seeing an on-campus psychiatrist.

After a few sessions, he diagnosed me with Bipolar Disorder. Bipolar Disorder is “a mental disorder that causes unusual shifts in mood, energy, activity levels, concentration, and the ability to carry out day-to-day tasks,” according to the National Institute of Mental Health. This diagnosis did not come as a shock to me. In fact, it made sense. I knew there was something wrong. I had always known, that people with mental illnesses were considered “crazy.” Was I crazy?

“You are not crazy,” my mother told me after my diagnosis. “I work with people who have Bipolar Disorder. You can’t possibly have Bipolar Disorder.” My mom was a social worker for the criminally insane at the local state hospital. She, along with a lot of people I knew, equated mental illness with crime because the only confessed people with bipolar disorder she knew were her clients at the hospital, and most of them had committed violent crimes. I was not violent. I was not a criminal. How could I be mentally ill? This is one of the stigmas that followed people with mental illness seventeen years ago. After my mother’s reaction and subsequent denial, why would I want to confess to having such a monstrous disorder? 

So, I suffered in silence like so many others. I overcame my baser instincts. Medication helped, but it only takes a person so far when it comes to Bipolar Disorder. Living life is a constant struggle. Sudden changes can often break my day. My first reaction to something negative is always to throw something, break something, or scream, but I stop myself and channel that energy in a more positive way. Over the years, my disorder became easier to control with practice and patience. That doesn’t mean that I don’t have bad days or that a single push will not tumble my carefully constructed house of cards. If that happens, I rebuild. It may be hard, but I do it.

On our podcast this week, we talk about living with mental illness. According to the National Institute of Mental Health, one in five Americans live with mental illness. If more people talked about their condition, they would not have to suffer in silence like I did most of my life. Carrie Fisher once said, “Bipolar Disorder can be a great teacher. It’s a challenge, but it can set you up to be able to do almost anything else in your life.” I accept the challenge. My condition is not a disability. I live with it and overcome it every day of my life, just like so many others.

I want to hear from our readers. Do you or a loved one suffer from mental illness? Let’s continue the conversation in our Facebook Group: MMC Chat.