Showing posts with label mental breakdown. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mental breakdown. Show all posts

Monday, 1 August 2011

Shoot the medical messenger

I'm actually tickled by this one! I've taken it from a link on one of the forums, who have taken it from the ME Association website ... who have taken it from the Sunday Times. You would think that the Sunday Times would have someone with a medical background proof read their medical articles. Apparently not.

This article has been written in response to the piece on Radio4's Today program. Once again they have completely ignored the part by Dr Shepherd, instead focusing on Simon Wessely's interview. And of Wessely's piece, they have focused on one tiny part, the part that annoyed me the most as it happened; the assertion that people with M.E. would rather have an incurable biomedical illness than a treatable psychological illness. For some reason they assume that the reason many people with M.E. are upset at all the research money for M.E. being put into psychological research, is because we do not wish to be labelled as being mentally ill. It seems to have failed to register with them that most people with M.E. are already on anti depressants, suffering from depression, or anxiety. Most of my M.E. suffering friends suffer from at least one psychological difficulty. None of us have any shame in admitting to it though. We simply do not feel that M.E. is also a psychological illness.

But I digress. You will notice that the writer of this article does not actually know the difference between a psychological condition and a neurological condition. I am guessing they think 'it's in the head' pretty much sums it up.

Taken from thefreedictionary.com:
Noun    1.    psychological condition - (psychology) a mental condition in which the qualities of a state are relatively constant even though the state itself may be dynamic; "a manic state"
Noun    1.    neurological disorder - a disorder of the nervous system.

And just to be clear:
nervous system n. The system of cells, tissues, and organs that regulates the body's responses to internal and external stimuli. In vertebrates it consists of the brain, spinal cord, nerves, ganglia, and parts of the receptor and effector organs.

In other words ... it has a biomedical root.

So, after having ceased laughing at the obvious faux pas of this creative writer, I was then perplexed as to how he could ascertain that "some sufferers cling with grim and livid determination to a non-existent biomedical explanation". Read that again; he knows that M.E. has no existing medical explanation? Can he share with us how he knows this? The evidence? The research? Pretty please.

His whole article is written in such a tone as to make fun of people who suffer with M.E.. This is serious and I shouldn't be laughing. I really do hope that most people reading it will see that he obviously does not know what he is talking about; he made a huge mistake in showing his ignorance regarding mental and neurological conditions, and The Sunday Times slipped up badly in not having an expert proof read the article. I am saddened that anyone can think it fair to make fun of a serious condition; I only hope that when The Sunday Times receive a plethora complaints regarding his idiocy that they revoke his payment for doing so.


‘Shoot the medical messenger – see if that’ll cure you’, Rod Liddle in The Sunday Times, 31 July 2011
by tonybritton on July 31, 2011


From The Sunday Times, 31 July 2011 (comment piece by Rod Little)

Shoot the medical messenger – see if that’ll cure you

Medical experts who put forward controversial ideas should investigate their theories and not give in to ‘extremist’ sufferers

They are hopping up and down with fury at the ME Association, the organisation that helps people suffering from what used to be known as “chronic fatigue syndrome” but now, for politically correct reasons, is known as myalgic encephalomyelitis.

Actually, I say they’re hopping up and down, but given the nature of their affliction, they’re probably sitting quite still, really. I meant hopping up and down as a figure of speech. Either way, they’re very angry. The problem was an interview on the BBC Today programme with a leading researcher into the causes of chronic fatigue syndrome, Prof Simon Wessely.

He believes the illness, which results in debilitating tiredness, aches and pains and so on, probably has a neurological basis.

As a consequence, he has received menacing phone calls and even death threats from “extremist” ME sufferers. So too has another researcher, Prof Myra McClure, who says she will now have nothing more to do with the whole business because she’s fed up with being abused.

It seems that those who suffer from ME, which used to be known as yuppie flu, do not wish to be stigmatised as malingering mentals, which is what they fear will happen if the illness turns out to have a psychiatric rather than biomedical basis.

On the ME Association website they don’t actually threaten to kill Wessely; instead you are left with the impression that he is pursuing this line of inquiry for mysteriously infernal purposes, and that he knows nothing about anything, and that he is part of a conspiracy with the whole psychiatric profession and the Today programme, especially Sarah Montague, and the government to cover up the real truth about chronic fatigue syndrome.

Indeed, such is the foaming paranoia on this site that you begin to suspect that if ME does have a neurological basis, it’s probably going to be the least of their mental worries.

The truth about ME, they assert, is that it is the consequence of some sort of weird retrovirus. In other words, it’s a proper illness, which we’ve caught from someone or something; it’s been given to us, it didn’t originate with us.

It is a peculiar and distressing, if not untypical, reaction from people faced with a mysterious and incurable disease. As Wessely himself says, in blank incomprehension, they would rather the disease be the consequence of a retrovirus that could possibly be fatal than be the result of a neurological disorder for which there is at least a form of palliative treatment.

No matter what evidence is marshalled by the likes of Wessely, some sufferers cling with grim and livid determination to a non-existent biomedical explanation; they assume, one supposes, that if it is primarily a mental condition then they have sort of brought it on themselves, and are in some way to blame for their affliction (which is a nonsense, of course).

Their denials and paranoia remind me a little of the reaction of some parents with autistic children who resist with fury the suggestion that this distressing condition might have been brought about partly as a consequence of assortative mating, as suggested by Prof Simon Baron-Cohen, rather than through mercury floating around in the atmosphere or the water pipes, or indeed the MMR vaccine.

The now wholly discredited MMR theory certainly served the psychological requirements of some unhappy parents, being not merely a clear cause but one that was imposed on their offspring by government diktat.

Baron-Cohen, meanwhile, received a lot of flak for this theory but, as he puts it, just because it is controversial doesn’t mean it should not be investigated.

Either way, some people seem to be terribly protective of their ailments, over which they believe they have a sort of droit de seigneur. Research of which, in their ignorance, they disapprove is seen as part of some plot to do them down and consequently underplay their suffering, and they decide its proponents must be vilified.

Wednesday, 22 June 2011

Wednesday 6th June 2011

Wow, my mind is spinning, so this isn't going to be easy to write. I've had a really really hard few days. Really hard. I'm not quite sure where to start though really, coz my mind's in a completely different place now.

I can't remember Friday, so let's start with Saturday. G picked me up a little after 1pm. I had a bath in the morning, and got kind of bored so listened to my happy songs. (I have a happy folder in my Firefox bookmarks). He's a late riser at weekends, which I can understand since he works hard all week and is exhausted by it, but I find it frustrating using all my spoons in the morning and then zonking out on him in the afternoon. It was good to see him. When he arrived I just wanted to drag him inside and hug him. I'd not seen him for two weeks after all. But I'm a wuss, so I didn't. I can't really remember what we actually did now, to be honest. I do know however that we had an absolute disaster of an evening, which was entirely my fault, and I feel horrible for it. It affected the whole of Sunday. He went out briefly to see one of his neighbours. I started crying. He didn't know this obviously. I managed to compose myself before he got back. He went out to the shop a bit later though, and I started crying again. I was just starting to get a handle on it when he walked back in. He caught me crying. Holy clap on a bike, that's the worst thing psychologically for me, it really is.

As a child I was depressed, but obviously I didn't have any concept of depression, and no one seemed to pick up on it. I spent my childhood and teen years crying myself to sleep probably every night. Occasionally my sister would hear me and come to see what was wrong. If my parents or my step brother found me crying I was .. told not to .. to put it politely. I learnt to cry silently. In fact, pretty often I can be sitting next to you crying and you'd not know it. I still have this mental block. No one can see me crying. It's terrifying. So while he comforted me, it made me worse.

Why was I crying? Well, because I'd failed him. I failed him Saturday night, and then again on Sunday morning, and a little song I wrote for my dad when I was about 11 years old, about how everything I ever do goes wrong, just kept going round and round my head. I felt like that child again.

On a rational note; it could have been PMT causing that. I'm not quite sure whether PMT causes the negative thoughts, or whether it turns them into tears, but occasionally I have emotional PMT. Not every month thankfully.

So, I came away from the weekend feeling that I'll probably never see G again. Oh, he's assured me otherwise, but I feel like I keep pushing and pushing, but I'm not doing it on purpose. It's just that since I've known him things have got steadily worse (and no, I'm not implying that it's his fault at all). The stress from the medical assessors notes has seriously been pushing me to my limit, which has lead me to me being a giant psycho cry baby, and to M.E. crash after crash after crash.

I've spent the last two days in tears. Well, mostly anyway. I don't remember much about Monday, other than I was in tears and banging my head against a wall at one point. Yesterday I started to feel a bit more rational ... my period started and my mind seemed to clear. But then I had a massive crying attack in the evening again. Notably, my period had stopped ... which is odd. I keep thinking I'm having a nervous breakdown again. I do not want one. Obviously. The fear of the fear can cause the fear though.

Well, this morning I woke up feeling melancholy. I lay in bed listening to the rain, which inspired me to write a poem which I've shared on FetLife. I may share some poems on here eventually, now that it won't be scrutinised. I got up and went to the bathroom. Now here's a weird thing, I keep getting emotional, cystitis, and constipation all at the same time. I wonder if they're related. Anyways, I sat on the loo and I decided that I need to force myself to have routine again. Just a simple thing. So here's my resolution .. which I'll probably not stick to ... but anyways:
- lie in bed and try to write a poem or read a little, listen to the birds or rain, or whatever is going on outside
- brush my teeth
- wash my face
- drink half a pint or a pint of water
- do ten sit ups
- take my medication
- make the bed (unless I'm getting back in it)
And later on in the day:
- wash plates as soon as I use them
- don't use a plate if I'm not up to washing it
- put clothes away as soon as removed

It's pretty basic, but it's a start. So, I got dressed, thinking these things through in my head. I want to remain in a tidy, clean house, despite the fact that I am technically not really able to maintain it. If I don't have the spoons to clear up, then I'll not make the mess to start with. I was not feeling positive. I felt as miserable as sin, but I had decided that there was no way in hell I'd let a breakdown happen, and the first step is to force myself to have a routine. Or so I've read anyway.

DWP smell about it. I was loathe to open it, but open it I did. Low and behold; they have reconsidered my medical assessment and allowed me to retain ESA after all, with no tribunal.

This is why my head is in a spin. The thing that has been causing me to stress out beyond my own control, has just been whipped out from beneath me. I mean .. yay, obviously. I hope it's that simple. I hope that means the stress is gone. But you know, what if the damage is already done. I guess we'll have to watch this space won't we.