I like talking to therapists, psychologists, and LCSW’s for non-therapeutic services. Only if they have a certified degree. I’ve mostly spoken to a few online, through initial emails or messaging.
I like talking to them without telling them what I really believe about mental health, and instead seeing what they believe, evident in the responses I get from them.
I told one about a lot of things. I told her about some hallucinations, about what I’ve heard from voices, about being controlled, about . . . basically, everything I’ve ever talked about at one point on this blog. I told her much of this isn’t daily, but frequent enough for me to notice, and that all of these things have been with me for many, many years. I said I never went after diagnosis because I never felt entirely incapacitated by it all. (Not the whole truth, but close enough). I told her, in regards to anything I’ve seen, heard, or thought, that after I calm down–be that hours, weeks, whatever–I can tend to rationalize those things were a little out of this world or not real. I never said I don’t believe a lot of what happens, but I never said I do believe it either. There’s a limbo here.
There were some other things I can’t remember about checks and balances or something. I asked, in her opinion, if she felt the system I had developed–good or bad–could keep me grounded.
I love her response, because to me it encompasses the polite, therapeutic approach of this era. (sarcasm)
Among other polite things, she said, I’ve probably become accustomed to these things and therefore can’t realize how incapacitating they really are.
She said things may never worsen, but that I shouldn’t take that chance. Therapy and medication would be a good safety net for me, she said.
She said seeking mental health treatment would be good, because THEY would determine what’s wrong with me and develop a plan for treatment.
Yes, let more people control my life, please God. I’m helpless.
I know a lot of people get suddenly hit with these things people like to call mental disorders, and I know a lot of people don’t. I’m sure there are people like me who have been like this since before they could remember. And Thank God for that prolonged experience.
Thank God for that because had I not been this well-versed in myself, hearing that I’m blind to how incapacitated I am would make me think I was actually losing my mind.
If I’ve become accustomed to things and they haven’t rendered me helpless . . . why exactly do I need to be told something is wrong with me and get treatment for it? What is there to treat? I’m so confused.
That’s not to say things don’t suck. Things suck. My mental health is not at all where I would like it to be. I’ve got really shitty coping mechanisms that have been whittled down to nothing from stress and anxiety. I lose myself pretty bad sometimes, but not all the time, and I’m not thrilled about waking up every morning.
So the fuck what? I am waking up every morning. I do manage to have a job. I have no idea how I’ve managed that, but I have. Things suck, but I’m accustomed to that, right?
Is it bad to be accustomed to these things? I don’t know?
Would it be better NOT to be accustomed to these things? Seems like that would have more severe consequences.
Perhaps accustomed is the problem and I’m missing the point. Maybe being accustomed to things isn’t the same thing as being okay with or good at managing them? Is that maybe what was trying to be said to me? If so, that also makes a lot of sense and is something I should consider.
Maybe we should always read between the lines of what’s being said to us by professionals. Maybe some of these professionals are actually saying something profound, but by taking their words at face value (As I did above) we’re rendering them unhelpful to us.
Or maybe it’s better to turn their words into something that makes more sense?
Or maybe fuck them all?
I don’t know.