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BSPGirl · 08-02-2006, 12:13 PM

My story.

You might know, or not, that around Easter I was in a very bad place in my life. Things weren't going well on all terains in life. I was studying something at university I really didn't like. My friendships went down the drain, my roommates wanted to kick me out and on top of it I was constantly broke. So I decided to kill myself. Thankfully friends and family intervened. I quit uni, started working a job right away and moved back in with my parents, also I already had an apointment at the local mental health center as I been meaning to give that a try since I got rather desperate and ppl recommended it and after all I didn't think it'd hurt me any.

Living with my folks, especially with my stepmom has been quite a hard road to travel. She didn't understand the slightest bit of my personality and things clashed a lot of times. More about that later. The first visit of the mental health center went okish. I been somewhat honest even with the therapist who seemed a nice dude. I didn't mention much of my depressive feelings (cuz 100% sure he'd just prescribe me Prozac and send me on my way) but I thought I had a specific help request, I wanted them to check for Asperger's Syndrom, as I read about that a lot on the internet and thought I might qualify for that. My parents & I had to fill out a questionaire which we did. I got a list with symptoms/character traits which all go with autism and looking at them made me just sad. Looked like there wasn't much good or positive about my personality at all. It mentioned things like 'clumsy motor skills' 'unable to establish normal relationships' etc. On advice of my dad I put that list far away and immediately felt better.

You see, I'm the type of person, when I read the medical encyclopedia I feel all those symptoms and think I'm dying. I became more hesistant to go back to that mental health center, but I believed my stepmom that it was 'just all fear, trust me professional help is so much better than the internet self help stuff'. Yes, I started digging into 'self help stuff' online. It did help me quite a lot already, determining my behaviors, typing them out. So in the week of my birthday I did go back to the mental health center. There I got diagnosed with autism. BOOM. Based on one questionaire filled out by me, there was a psychiatrist there who did the actual 'diagnosing'. He didn't even look at the questionaire my parents filled out. Seemed he wanted to move on to the next patient already. What he told me came down to this: I'd never be able to have a normal relationship, I'd never be able to live on my own without guidance and I'd need counseling for the rest of my life. At least that's what I picked up from his messages which weren't too clear. I was sent out to the streets after that.

It came as a shock to my parents, my dad disagreed from the start, my stepmom didn't. It set up for lots of uncomfy situations in the house. Me? I got very depressed and decided once again that I didn't wanna live for a long time if my life would be crap like this. Internet relieved some of this pain tho. Friends did too by telling me basically I'm still the same person even after such diagnosis. I more and more started to lose trust in 'professional help' especially cuz they put me on a waiting list for 8 weeks after first sticking pretty serious labels on me. What kinda practise is that? I dug more and more into self help, I been going to www.smartrecovery.org for a long time it seems, helped me kick my cocaine habit.

Ppl started threads about autism on the SMART messageboard and I read them. I got a lot wiser. I read some writings by a dude who really suffered from it and got neurological testing, something I NEVER got. I also decided after reading what he wrote about his personality and what not that I been misdiagnosed. In my mind I started rejecting this diagnosis more and more. Much to the displeasure of my stepmom who still thought a therapist would solve virtually everything and also had zero trust I could kick this on my own by methods I chose. The mental health center still remained silent and my trust in them really went downhill. Tension at home build up. I debated going to the homeless shelter of get myself checked into mental hospital to get away from it all.

A friend of me and my family turned out to be quite the savior here, tho. I got in touch with a landlord who I could trust according to many ppl, he didn't have much rooms for rent tho. But my friend caught him working at an apartment just across the street where he lives. He walked in and talked with him, said he'd get a great tenant if he'd let me rent that place. This excellent reference helped me getting in. My parents were eager to help me move, naturally. They offered to help if I were unable to manage financially, since I dun have such a great paycheck at the current job I'm working at. I moved out with another fight with my stepmom. I basically told her I reject my diagnosis, I refuse to set a foot in a mental health center again and that I don't want her to pay for a private therapist. That I'm finding help in a lot of things and that I finally grew up and am gonna do things my way now.

A few days later it turned out my washing machine didn't function. Much to my disliking I'd have to go to my parents' place to do laundry. But it turned out quite well: I shared with my stepmom how I'm working on REBT, how I talk to various people online and how internet helps me and also I gave my reasons why I distrust mental health care. More decision were made at that point in time. I'm actively looking into improving my life, daily. Gonna join a drama club as soon as that's possible. I'm gonna put my anger towards the mental health care business into something useful. I'm thinking about writing the mental health center (the people there still remain silent about treatment or anything at all, by the way and eight weeks have passed) and Dutch government which finances this malpractise. My letter would include something along those lines:

- I have 0 trust in ppl who put patients even when they're on the brink of suicide on waiting lists that are like 20 miles long

- I have 0 trust in 'professionals' 'diagnosing' you based on one lousy questionaire with the most serious disorders

- I have 0 trust in therapists who I can steer in any direction I want, I could steer the diagnosis in every direction I wanted

- What's the use of anything if you feel you can't be honest, scared as I am that they're gonna come up with anti depressants which are actually proven to be a danger but you don't hear anything about it due to the big pharmaceutical scam. (like back in 1700 they thought tobacco smoke was good for lung cancer, heh, I'm sure history will repeat itself)

Right now I'm sipping some energy drink, Dropkick Murphy's are blasting on the stereo, there's a music festival coming up in town, free entrance and I hope the weather's gonna be better. I'm doing fine, of course any time I could lose this minimum wage job, of course a comet could come from the sky and crash right into my living room, sure sure but ya know what: I could deal with all that.

Marte

Disclaimer: this is my story, I hope it inspires, angers, makes people wonder about their own lifes. It's a work in progress, so consider this version 1.0.
I don't hope however it'll lead to decisions like 'I'ma quit my medication,' 'therapy sucks, it's true' or 'you're just bashing therapists cuz you're in denial and afraid to face your own problems'. Maybe, maybe not but I want to make clear that I think there are many well meaning people in the medical field (my family dr is an example of a GOOD dr) who do their very best for their patients but are stuck in a certain system too. Quitting therapy is a BIG decision that needs a lot of thinking, I don't want y'all to go start rejecting a diagnosis or what not, but I trust you're all intelligent folks. Quitting medication should always be done under medical supervision, I'd like to add, last but not least. Thanks for reading this all, you'll get a big prize, one day, keep your eyes on it.

08-02-2006, 12:13 PM	#1 (permalink)
BSPGirl Member Join Date: May 2005 Location: Nowhere Posts: 889	My Story My story. You might know, or not, that around Easter I was in a very bad place in my life. Things weren't going well on all terains in life. I was studying something at university I really didn't like. My friendships went down the drain, my roommates wanted to kick me out and on top of it I was constantly broke. So I decided to kill myself. Thankfully friends and family intervened. I quit uni, started working a job right away and moved back in with my parents, also I already had an apointment at the local mental health center as I been meaning to give that a try since I got rather desperate and ppl recommended it and after all I didn't think it'd hurt me any. Living with my folks, especially with my stepmom has been quite a hard road to travel. She didn't understand the slightest bit of my personality and things clashed a lot of times. More about that later. The first visit of the mental health center went okish. I been somewhat honest even with the therapist who seemed a nice dude. I didn't mention much of my depressive feelings (cuz 100% sure he'd just prescribe me Prozac and send me on my way) but I thought I had a specific help request, I wanted them to check for Asperger's Syndrom, as I read about that a lot on the internet and thought I might qualify for that. My parents & I had to fill out a questionaire which we did. I got a list with symptoms/character traits which all go with autism and looking at them made me just sad. Looked like there wasn't much good or positive about my personality at all. It mentioned things like 'clumsy motor skills' 'unable to establish normal relationships' etc. On advice of my dad I put that list far away and immediately felt better. You see, I'm the type of person, when I read the medical encyclopedia I feel all those symptoms and think I'm dying. I became more hesistant to go back to that mental health center, but I believed my stepmom that it was 'just all fear, trust me professional help is so much better than the internet self help stuff'. Yes, I started digging into 'self help stuff' online. It did help me quite a lot already, determining my behaviors, typing them out. So in the week of my birthday I did go back to the mental health center. There I got diagnosed with autism. BOOM. Based on one questionaire filled out by me, there was a psychiatrist there who did the actual 'diagnosing'. He didn't even look at the questionaire my parents filled out. Seemed he wanted to move on to the next patient already. What he told me came down to this: I'd never be able to have a normal relationship, I'd never be able to live on my own without guidance and I'd need counseling for the rest of my life. At least that's what I picked up from his messages which weren't too clear. I was sent out to the streets after that. It came as a shock to my parents, my dad disagreed from the start, my stepmom didn't. It set up for lots of uncomfy situations in the house. Me? I got very depressed and decided once again that I didn't wanna live for a long time if my life would be crap like this. Internet relieved some of this pain tho. Friends did too by telling me basically I'm still the same person even after such diagnosis. I more and more started to lose trust in 'professional help' especially cuz they put me on a waiting list for 8 weeks after first sticking pretty serious labels on me. What kinda practise is that? I dug more and more into self help, I been going to www.smartrecovery.org for a long time it seems, helped me kick my cocaine habit. Ppl started threads about autism on the SMART messageboard and I read them. I got a lot wiser. I read some writings by a dude who really suffered from it and got neurological testing, something I NEVER got. I also decided after reading what he wrote about his personality and what not that I been misdiagnosed. In my mind I started rejecting this diagnosis more and more. Much to the displeasure of my stepmom who still thought a therapist would solve virtually everything and also had zero trust I could kick this on my own by methods I chose. The mental health center still remained silent and my trust in them really went downhill. Tension at home build up. I debated going to the homeless shelter of get myself checked into mental hospital to get away from it all. A friend of me and my family turned out to be quite the savior here, tho. I got in touch with a landlord who I could trust according to many ppl, he didn't have much rooms for rent tho. But my friend caught him working at an apartment just across the street where he lives. He walked in and talked with him, said he'd get a great tenant if he'd let me rent that place. This excellent reference helped me getting in. My parents were eager to help me move, naturally. They offered to help if I were unable to manage financially, since I dun have such a great paycheck at the current job I'm working at. I moved out with another fight with my stepmom. I basically told her I reject my diagnosis, I refuse to set a foot in a mental health center again and that I don't want her to pay for a private therapist. That I'm finding help in a lot of things and that I finally grew up and am gonna do things my way now. A few days later it turned out my washing machine didn't function. Much to my disliking I'd have to go to my parents' place to do laundry. But it turned out quite well: I shared with my stepmom how I'm working on REBT, how I talk to various people online and how internet helps me and also I gave my reasons why I distrust mental health care. More decision were made at that point in time. I'm actively looking into improving my life, daily. Gonna join a drama club as soon as that's possible. I'm gonna put my anger towards the mental health care business into something useful. I'm thinking about writing the mental health center (the people there still remain silent about treatment or anything at all, by the way and eight weeks have passed) and Dutch government which finances this malpractise. My letter would include something along those lines: - I have 0 trust in ppl who put patients even when they're on the brink of suicide on waiting lists that are like 20 miles long - I have 0 trust in 'professionals' 'diagnosing' you based on one lousy questionaire with the most serious disorders - I have 0 trust in therapists who I can steer in any direction I want, I could steer the diagnosis in every direction I wanted - What's the use of anything if you feel you can't be honest, scared as I am that they're gonna come up with anti depressants which are actually proven to be a danger but you don't hear anything about it due to the big pharmaceutical scam. (like back in 1700 they thought tobacco smoke was good for lung cancer, heh, I'm sure history will repeat itself) Right now I'm sipping some energy drink, Dropkick Murphy's are blasting on the stereo, there's a music festival coming up in town, free entrance and I hope the weather's gonna be better. I'm doing fine, of course any time I could lose this minimum wage job, of course a comet could come from the sky and crash right into my living room, sure sure but ya know what: I could deal with all that. Marte Disclaimer: this is my story, I hope it inspires, angers, makes people wonder about their own lifes. It's a work in progress, so consider this version 1.0. I don't hope however it'll lead to decisions like 'I'ma quit my medication,' 'therapy sucks, it's true' or 'you're just bashing therapists cuz you're in denial and afraid to face your own problems'. Maybe, maybe not but I want to make clear that I think there are many well meaning people in the medical field (my family dr is an example of a GOOD dr) who do their very best for their patients but are stuck in a certain system too. Quitting therapy is a BIG decision that needs a lot of thinking, I don't want y'all to go start rejecting a diagnosis or what not, but I trust you're all intelligent folks. Quitting medication should always be done under medical supervision, I'd like to add, last but not least. Thanks for reading this all, you'll get a big prize, one day, keep your eyes on it.