by Jack Bragen
The treatment system has always been a “frenemy” to me as a mental health treatment recipient. I need these services, partly because of how the socioeconomic part of our infrastructure functions. I could not live without having money from Social Security, and having my medical care and psychiatric treatment paid for. In a “utopian” society, this might not be the case, but unfortunately we don’t live in Utopia.
The general public often takes a dim view of people with mental disabilities. Yet, we in turn are often turned off by how we are treated by the public in general and the treatment system specifically.
Ostensibly, the purpose of the mental health treatment system is to help those who are diagnosed with psychiatric illness, to ensure that we manage our symptoms, and to supervise us into not becoming “a problem” for the good working people. But apparently, there are other agendas in order to keep us manageable.
One practice by treatment professionals that I’ve witnessed is rendering the patient psychologically powerless. Using a variety of verbal methods, counselors can knock the proverbial wind out of a patient’s anger and/or determination, probably aided by the medications we’re prescribed to remain stabilized, which makes the counselor’s job simpler.
Verbal manipulation can be highly effective. Human beings have “operating systems” that guide our thoughts. Words have a lot of power over thoughts, no matter what language or languages we speak. Thoughts are our guides in how we function, because of how people are designed.
One could easily guess that the “powers that be” want mental health consumers under control. They accomplish this by keeping cash out of our hands, relieving us from responsibilities, and segregating us from “good” working and neurotypical people.
Beyond all that, it’s OK if we live our little lives, get our slices of pizza and cake frequently, and engage in group therapy, where we sit around and swap bits of gallows humor.
A couple weeks ago, I was suffering problems with the side effects of my meds. Because it was a weekend, I could not contact my regular prescriber. I phoned psychiatry at the County Hospital, in Martinez, California. I’m now holding a grudge for how they interacted with me over the phone. I asked to speak to a psychiatrist, but they refused and instead gave me a therapist. I was in no way in a crisis; I only had a medication issue. They utterly dismissed me.
But their response didn’t surprise me. If a patient or client says anything, treatment professionals assume that it is either wrong or just nonsense. When a “helping professional” faces a patient’s problem, they must “troubleshoot” and decide how to deal with patients according to the workers’ systems and procedures.
The hospital probably seeks the most efficient way possible of tracking, processing and dealing with the flow of patients. Health care providers see patients as less as people and more as the condition they’re seeking to treat.
For example, dentists might speak to other dentists in their jargon about various jobs they do on people’s teeth. They might discuss the details and their experiences with various types of dental work. Only when the patient leaves the chair and pays at the front counter are they a person again, not just a set of teeth.
But that’s not the case with a mentally ill person: Their mind is not considered to exist. Mental health caregivers view their job in terms of providing needed guidance to people presumed as not competent.
The therapist to whom I was referred advised me to go to the nearest ER. If I went to an ER complaining about ANYTHING remotely psychiatric, I probably would have been admitted for a 72-hour hold. I was peeved, so I told the therapist that was useless and ended the call.
All that for asking them to adjust my meds.
If a patient is gainfully employed or succeeds in some area of their life, the practitioner often cuts them down to size. Maybe they’re embarrassed when a mental health consumer gets a job with a professional skill, so they need to maintain an image of superiority. If someone claims I am wrong to assert that the treatment system cuts us down to size and sabotages our efforts via manipulation and other tactics, I’d reply they are glossing over our reality—and that they are probably naive.
Antipsychotics are popular with treatment professionals not just because they potentially reconnect a patient to reality and potentially save lives. They also slow the patient down to make the patient more manageable. Those meds could actually help if in the process we can find some type of fulfillment in our lives.
Mental health consumers should not need to be at odds with treatment professionals. At the same time, treatment professionals should offer treatment that empowers consumers.
Jack Bragen lives in the San Francisco Bay Area and often writes for the local street papers.
