How did I get here? How did I go from being a stalwart believer in the pervasive existence of mental illnesses and their biological causes to doubting whether something as frightening and assumingly well defined as schizophrenia was a real thing? What took me from being a good patient who openly self-identified as bipolar and took my medications like clockwork to someone who cringes every time an official proclaims the need for more mental health resources and early intervention?
These are the questions I frequently ask myself. I am aware that many strongly subscribe to the chemical imbalance explanation for emotional suffering, and odds are that you or someone you know has bee helped by a psychoactive medication such as an antidepressant. Please know none of this intended to disparage you or belittle your experiences. If you have found peace, relief or belonging through the current popular paradigm of mental illness and health, then I am truly happy for you. Just know that this is my story, my truth, and whether it informs yours is completely up to you. I mean
you no harm or disrespect.
If, on the other hand, something about the mental health system always bothered you, my story may give you a clearer picture as to why. Maybe you’ve been given a diagnosis of Major Depressive Disorder or Bipolar Disorder, and it just doesn’t seem to fit. Yes, you’re finicky about the order of the spices on the rack, you were sad for longer than most when your dog died, and it’s all you can do not to burst out in tears when your boss tells you your report was not your best work, but do these things rise to the level of an illness? Now you’re having doubts about a disorder label you were given.
Or you’ve watched in dismay as a friend or loved one has lost interest in going places and becomes easily angered by the smallest of slights only after starting on a pill that was meant to relieve anxiety or depression. You find yourself wondering if this is really a worsening of their condition or something else. The side effects of one medication led to the addition of another and another until the person you knew was all but lost.
I have been on both sides. I have felt the sense of belonging and relief that diagnosis brings. I felt the thrill when a pill has curbed my oversensitivity or made it easier to get up in the morning. I’ve also watched in confusion as diagnoses and personalities have changed in myself and others. I found myself wondering if all my emotions were signs of a disorder. Where did I end and the bipolar begin?
Here I retrace my steps all the way from the effects of mental illness on my early childhood to my current status as label-free – struggling daily with the harm done by the labels and the poisons used to treat them. I name the books and thought leaders who have been instrumental in reshaping my view of myself and the mental health system.
I was compelled to write this blog not only as a warning against the dangerous neurotoxins that I and others have been pouring into our bodies, often for decades, but to bring attention to the faulty and often harmful disease paradigm that has defined our national discourse on mental heath for more than half a century.
I am a living testament to the fact that labels, real or imagined need not define or limit, and that truth, regardless of how startling or difficult, really can set you free.