How do you know when and whether you need a psychiatrist or a psychologist?
For many people, stigma is still an obstacle to accessing the right mental health care for them, at the right time. Experiencing psychiatric symptoms is challenging enough. We don’t need the judgement of others or self stigma standing in the way of getting the correct treatment. So we need to change the way we think and speak about accessing mental health care. And we need to understand the different levels of care we can expect from different professionals.
I saw my psychologist and my psychiatrist a couple of weeks ago. These two professionals are the pillars of management for my Bipolar Disorder. Yet they support me in different ways.
I don’t dwell on what might have happened had I been sent home on day five after my daughter was born. But whenever the news throws up sensational stories reporting murder, infanticide, or suicide, and there is even a slim possibility the perpetrator might have been psychotic – then I think about it. Because that could have been me.
I had plans for this post to be much softer than the last. No politics or indignation…
I started with excellent intentions. I slept in, made banana pancakes for breakfast, a big plunger of coffee, got the paper, and planned to read about the royal wedding preparations, the politics of which I am not particularly invested in.
So, I opened The Weekend Australian. I never got to the royal wedding preparations on page three.
On the front page the following words tore at my eyeballs:
Suicide is the leading cause of death for people aged 14-44. Our prime minister is giving Lifeline (our suicide hotline) $34 million to:
‘dramatically boost staff numbers dealing with pleas for help. The funding to Lifeline comes as national suicide rates reach a 10-year high, with more than eight deaths a day.’ (Sunday Mail 6/05/18)
I don’t doubt the PM’s good intentions. It’s easy to look at those statistics and think:
‘Let’s throw some money at this problem.’
But injecting funds into the surface of such a complex issue and proudly announcing it to the media, is like patting the captain of the Titanic on the back, as water rushes into the hull of his ship, and saying:
‘Don’t worry. We’ve got this. We can see this huge iceberg is the problem. We’ve got people sitting on top of it, hacking it down. And, to distract everyone from the drama we can make snowcones from the ice that’s falling on the deck. Continue reading “Suicide Watch”
Have you ever heard or seen a word or phrase that made you feel intensely uncomfortable with who you are?
Until about eight years ago, I had never been on the receiving end of discriminatory language. And yet it managed to find a way into my white, straight, agnostic, charmed life. The first time it happened, I was walking through a shopping centre. The words assaulted me suddenly, shook the breath out of me: ‘PSYCHO BITCH’
Where were we? That’s right. We’d left me in a state of catatonic depression. If you haven’t read Part 1 of this post, which dropped yesterday, I suggest doing so now.
The first time I slid into catatonic depression, my psychiatrist tried anti-depressant after anti-depressant while I was hospitalised. Nothing worked. I was still brand new to mental illness. Two months before, I’d suffered my first psychotic episode after the birth of my first child. My First Time
I had gone from mentally healthy for thirty-two years, to experiencing some of the worst psychiatric symptoms in existence. I felt as though I had entered a parallel universe. When ECT was recommended I had a sense of being at the end of the line. I didn’t know much about it.