I Do Not Recall this Part of the Contract

Once upon a time--back around 1990, the buzz phrase among the psych nurses on the unit I was on--my last hospitalization--changed into a rather infuriating chorus: "What's the Pay Off?" The theory being that each one of us was getting something positive [the Pay Off] for our crazy behavior and way of thinking...in addition to our self-harm stuff [from suicidal ideations to self inflicted you-know-what]. It was maddening to us. It was like a slimly disguised accusation of "if you want to be happy all you have to do is snap out of it!" So we were not amused even after multiple reassurances that that was not the intention at all. [And the trust and morale level dropped even further on the unit.]

Anyway...after my release one of the patients I became friends with [we met in Aftercare] started a conversation one night on the phone about why we did not just snap out of it and get well. We played fill in the blank or complete this sentence: "I do not want to get well because...." The conversation ended when we were having trouble breathing because we were laughing so hard. Here are some of the answers I still remember:

"I do not want to get well because..."

1. my therapist needs a new car.
2. my therapist will end up homeless without my business
3. I LUV therapy!
4. I am contributing to my therapist's continuing education
5. I will be the patient who will make my therapist/doctor famous!
6. I need more experience before I can write a best seller about my life.
7. No one ever asked me if I wanted to.
8. I DO NOT RECALL THIS BEING PART OF THE AGREEMENT WHEN I STARTED THERAPY!

I remember during my first hospitalization that Watergate was nearing its climax and then suddenly President Nixon resigned. And I remember thinking at the time...the world out there has gone crazy...and I am the one locked up?

I still wonder about this at times....I got better through the years and have been a functional participating citizen--working full-time and paying taxes. [I am deteriorating now and picking up speed but I have contributed quite a bit into Social Security that I will likely never see a penny of.] I sometimes reflect about how hard I worked and what I went through in order to enter the 'real' world and hide my insanity well enough so I was accepted. And I wonder why on earth I went through the hell that I did. The world is crazy and growing moreso by the day...if you doubt me, watch the news. The pay-off for being a participant in society is that I get to pay taxes, owe money, be a slave to my employer...I can be abused, a victim of a crime, be falsely accused, fired or laid off. Yes siree bob...I can be a member of the rat race! I can watch the cruelty of others to the helpless. I can the exploitation and the injustice. I can observe politicians and elections Tell me something, all you people out there....what is the pay-off of enduring this insanity? What is the pay-off of participating in it? Because you know what? I just can't see it. And why do you want me to "get cured" and join you in it? Misery loves company, right.

To any mentals out there reading this...beware...the push to cure you is a cruel trick...don't fall for it. And to you OUtsiders out there...you really need to come up with something better as a reward than paying taxes, bills, politics, the silent suffering all around you, the rampent injustice, and the freedom that others have to inflict pain and torture upon you.

I should have asked more questions before asking for help oh those 30+ years ago. Even as I watch my slide backwards--further than I ever was before--while I feel some fear since the authority figures will have the ultimate POWER over me once again, there is a vague feeling of relief. For I know the darkness and I know the shadows well...there is safety there.

The Challenges of Relating in Relationships

It is often difficult to adequately express myself or what I am feeling to you Outsiders. In my current sub-topic of relating to medical healthcare professionals, lets talk about how to describe symptoms when asked. One of the most difficult questions commonly asked is: on a scale of 1 to 10, how do you rate your pain? Since I practiced the art of never expressing pain growing up my pain tolerance sky rocketed--it is unusually high. So pain can be difficult for me to rate on a scale that is presented as "standardized" [explain how that can be since pain cannot be objectively measured?] That leaves me with trying to quickly think about how to translate or convert my level of pain to one that is appropriate for the level of injury or illness so that appropriate medical care will be done. I learned that translation is necessary when I reported a pain level of a 4 for pain that kept me awake at night crying. But since I reported a 4, I was sent away with instructions to get some OTC painkillers...and to quit whining. Didn't do a thing for the pain or my frustration level with dealing with doctors. I have learned that if I multiply my pain level by 1.5 to 2, then the care I get makes the pain bearable or sometimes even eliminates it. But I have to stop and do the calculations in mind. So if a mental is slow in answering, it is likely because they are trying to figure out how to express it so that the doctor understands and takes enough action to alieviate at least some of it.

Trust and respect. These are critical in any relationships I have with anyone I encounter--especially those who are supposedly charged with helping me get better. Trust and respect are earned things--and they are usually earned by evidence of intelligence, a sense of humor, and the quality of being "safe" in the earnee. A staff person or doctor in a hospital who displays a distinct deficiency in cerebral activity is likely to be a target of acting out behavior or overt or perhaps covert manipulative manuvers--especially if I have become very irritated by them. During one hospitalization the door opened one afternoon and all these young women in white uniforms came marching into the unit and then fanned out into patients' rooms. I learned they were nursing students and had come to experience a psych unit. I found this interesting and obeyed when told to go to my room so the student assigned to me could find me. I did so and found that the student was very respectful and listened to what I said...I tried my best to answer her questions in such a way that she was not frightened and she understood.

A day later, a different group arrived on the unit. That particular group irritated the hell out of us. My student was so condescending and rude to me that I shut down completely and waited it out until she left. Later the other patients and I worked out a plan...because we were told another group would be arriving the next day no matter how we felt about it.

We were already in our rooms when the next group arrived...waiting. Some of us acted catatonic. Some acted out. Some drooled and twitched. Others shouted at furniture in the room. The staff went bonkers...not to mention the students and their faculty. The students couldn't leave fast enough. We weren't treated as specimens again. We were delighted...we also lost all privileges for several days but we didn't care as long as they weren't coming back.

TM