Yay Blogging!
I cannot believe I'm doing this--starting a blog. I hated myspace, and now this? We'll see how it goes.
Okay, first thing you all: I have been by various psych professionals diagnosed insane. My actions, thoughts, and feelings have been called various definitions in the DSM-IV. So, I apologize in advance if I go wack and start writing the most off the wall shit.
But, hey, I'm not insane, and that's just it. What is insanity? I'm not a danger to myself or others; I'm a mostly functional person (now, anyway), and my behavior mostly conforms to the norm in this abnormal world, meaning I'm not a deviant. (Okay, maybe sexually and religiously). There is, however, one criteria I think I fit for the standard "abnormal" psychology testbook definition of insane --distressed. I get distressed a lot. Life hurts, but everyone suffers, sometimes. So, why in inferno am I diagnosed bipolar, depressed, anxious, socially phobic?
Why do I swallow pill after pill every day of my life to feel better? And why do I spend 60 bucks a session (And that's a discount) for cognitive therapy twice a month?
There might be something wrong with me, but equally, in the macrocosmic view, there is something wrong with this mental health system which diagnosed me in the first place. They need their jobs and profits, so they keep having to diagnose, and there is no cure because they would lose their jobs and profits if there was a cure. I am not mentally ill; I am a person, first and foremost. I just wish I had some help, sometimes. Somebody who wouldn't be so afraid to look a person who might just be insane in the eyes. No, I am not insane. I am not sick. I am OKAY with not being okay. And that is just too much for some people to handle. Everybody wants some control over others, and this control over others happens cognitively by placing someone in a schema in their minds. Well, thanks, you've reduced to me to "sick" and "mentally ill" in your mind. But the truth is I'm not, anymore than someone is just black, or someone is just a fag (and I can say fag because I'm queer too). Identity is not identity. I do not identify with my identity. Where are people? Where are you all? Tell me who you are for real --not these social labels that everyone uses to control everyone else and even themselves. We cannot escape these social constructs, but maybe we can look into our hearts and minds and see for ourselves who we are and set out to make our essences reality. Maybe. I'll check into the philosophical literature later.
PS: I don't really proofread before I publish. This is sloppy hypertext. I am a good writer, though, and I can prove this because I will edit my sloppy goofs after I publish, so you never know when I might change something and may want to look over my posts again. It's called fucking with reality --text can warp and spin now, thanks to the Internet. Yay blogging!
Okay, first thing you all: I have been by various psych professionals diagnosed insane. My actions, thoughts, and feelings have been called various definitions in the DSM-IV. So, I apologize in advance if I go wack and start writing the most off the wall shit.
But, hey, I'm not insane, and that's just it. What is insanity? I'm not a danger to myself or others; I'm a mostly functional person (now, anyway), and my behavior mostly conforms to the norm in this abnormal world, meaning I'm not a deviant. (Okay, maybe sexually and religiously). There is, however, one criteria I think I fit for the standard "abnormal" psychology testbook definition of insane --distressed. I get distressed a lot. Life hurts, but everyone suffers, sometimes. So, why in inferno am I diagnosed bipolar, depressed, anxious, socially phobic?
Why do I swallow pill after pill every day of my life to feel better? And why do I spend 60 bucks a session (And that's a discount) for cognitive therapy twice a month?
There might be something wrong with me, but equally, in the macrocosmic view, there is something wrong with this mental health system which diagnosed me in the first place. They need their jobs and profits, so they keep having to diagnose, and there is no cure because they would lose their jobs and profits if there was a cure. I am not mentally ill; I am a person, first and foremost. I just wish I had some help, sometimes. Somebody who wouldn't be so afraid to look a person who might just be insane in the eyes. No, I am not insane. I am not sick. I am OKAY with not being okay. And that is just too much for some people to handle. Everybody wants some control over others, and this control over others happens cognitively by placing someone in a schema in their minds. Well, thanks, you've reduced to me to "sick" and "mentally ill" in your mind. But the truth is I'm not, anymore than someone is just black, or someone is just a fag (and I can say fag because I'm queer too). Identity is not identity. I do not identify with my identity. Where are people? Where are you all? Tell me who you are for real --not these social labels that everyone uses to control everyone else and even themselves. We cannot escape these social constructs, but maybe we can look into our hearts and minds and see for ourselves who we are and set out to make our essences reality. Maybe. I'll check into the philosophical literature later.
PS: I don't really proofread before I publish. This is sloppy hypertext. I am a good writer, though, and I can prove this because I will edit my sloppy goofs after I publish, so you never know when I might change something and may want to look over my posts again. It's called fucking with reality --text can warp and spin now, thanks to the Internet. Yay blogging!
posted by Kristen @ 1:19 PM
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