A Bridge Over Troubled Waters

Dancing on the Razor's Edge: Schism

#4 A Most Curious Diagnosis

(-or-)

Huh??

Once upon a time, I consistently attended a local, psychiatric, adult, out-patient center.  It was of the "clubhouse model."  For the less able clients, it functioned as adult daycare.  We went there for things like group therapy, a hot meal, supervised chores, and socialization.

At the time, it was almost my entire social life.  I remember being content, happy, and comfortably social.  In short, I thought that I was doing pretty good, plus had made significant (or at least satisfactory) improvement.

Apparently, somebody disagreed!

I was standing by the front reception desk, silently minding my own business.  The staff office was really close by (likely ~15 feet away, maybe closer).  A few other clients were within earshot.

Fairly suddenly, the on-duty clubhouse supervisor walked by.  I don't even remember him making eye contact.  He calmly informed me that my diagnosis had been changed to "schizoid personality disorder."  And...

And then, he kept on walking.

No privacy.

No explanation.

No orders.

Nary a word about what the diagnosis even meant.

After that . . . nothing!  For many days, maybe many weeks: nothing changed.

Nothing.

I was mostly ignored by any staff, including the psychiatrist!  This seemed, well, weird.  Almost spooky.  I never asked any questions [at least for a long time].  After all, that whole no privacy / no explanation thing had me baffled.  Besides, I didn't think that anybody would've answered any questions — if I had bothered to ask!

•  I mean, why risk being ignored when you're already being ignored?

It became a decreasingly important waiting game.  As in, how long would they let me slide by?  Who would relent first: them or me?  It became a moot point.  I was there (seemingly) because I liked being there.  If I was content with my progress and situation, then why would their opinions have even mattered?

Stop.

There was this thing called "spenddown."  It was some ridiculously complicated, insurance deductible plan.  In short, if you wanted "necessary" services, then you had to meet your "spenddown."

Our necessities could include medication, a psychiatrist, case management, a decent meal, and a decent social life.  When you're -strange- then you can't take anything for granted — especially not a social life!

Well, adult daycare is expensive.  By spending hours at the clubhouse, one could meet one's spenddown much faster.  For many of us, logging time at the clubhouse was our ONLY option for "spending" the required funds.  Some clients had to be there, seemingly, every hour that the place was open!

Besides, exceeding your spenddown was far better than NOT meeting it!  Being around familiar faces didn't hurt, either.

My wanting to be at the clubhouse made my illusion of choice convenient.

Many years later, I became curious enough to look up the prescribed treatment for "schizoid personality disorder."  What I learned explained a lot.  It may be the most mutually frustrating diagnosis ever!

But that rude lack of privacy?

Yeah.  That could've gone better.  [O well. :) ]

#5

A Mad Monk's Confessions

I've learned a valuable lesson today: it's possible to make a fictional villain too villainous.  I had an all too familiar emotional reaction to a villain right before writing this.  Yet, haven't I written about perhaps even more despicable villains myself?  What then was that disturbing element (or elements) that so caught my attention?  And why?

Hence, I'll review all of my Wattpad™ postings with that caveat in mind.

How this relates to mental health is — delicate.  While I've revealed some personal matters in order to illuminate the topic, the question before us is this:

•  Simply put, how much openness about mental health is too much openness?

Ok.  Let's make this quite personal.  There's my autism, likely at the Asperger's end of the spectrum.  This was missed by professionals for decades, but something was obviously amiss during my childhood.  Then there's depression, and even being bipolar.  Both of these are regrettable, but nothing novel or even embarrassing.

And I avoided committing suicide!  That's a victory!

However, even amongst the mentally ill, I've observed that some things are more objectional than others.  Most certainly, there are more severe public prejudices and misconceptions.

Shall we say that "crazy" doesn't equal "insane?"  And that I've been both?

Presently, you may be feeling uncomfortable, and understandably so.  After all, purely fictional insanity can be applauded and even joked about.  In any superior horror story, it's good for a few shivers — and then the story ends.

•  Bravissimo, maestro!  Encore, encore!

In reality?  Eh...  Not so much.  🙁

Having been truly insane, I find that attitude wondrously understandable!  Besides, you have your own problems.  Forget mine!  Right?  Especially if you have no personal frame of reference.  I'd have a wider audience if I talked about politics or religion.  So...

Let's talk about both!

Mental health issues have a huge impact on national and global economies.  To which some might reply, "Yeah!  Because politicians are insane!"

Uh...  No.  Sane people:

1: Caused the Great Depression.  2: Invented, and then deployed, the electric chair.  3: Dropped nuclear weapons on Japan.  4: Facilitated, or committed, every 20th Century genocide.

• But some lunatic fed peanut butter to a dog.

Conclusion:

Sane people are crazy.  And they empower politicians.

For instance:

One sane person who'd voted for President Donald Trump called him "a rabid dog."

Well, if Trump is a rabid dog, then I'm a constipated Chihuahua!

Imagine me running for president?!  Who'd vote for a crazy person?!  Yet...

Are the lunatics already in charge of the asylum??

Being a... "Christian" — I'll be softer on religion, right?

WRONG.  Maybe the attitude of some of "The Church" toward the mentally ill is frankly abysmal.  As in, "Take that little attitude, and chuck it down a dark hole."  And God help you (literally) if you "need" medication!

People!!!  Hello???  We're right here!

***

To everyone:

What separates anyone's heroes from anyone else's villains?

Any "your people" from any "our people?"

****

"We have met the enemy and he is us."  [Walt Kelly's cartoon possum, Pogo]

****

PS:

Whether or not I am an "us" or a "them" ... or some-thing unrelated to humanity ... tell me, please:

⁍  Whose enemy am I?