You up for reading a three-part series in the NY Times? Sure you are, and it’s worth your time. It’s about youngsters and polypharm, yes, poly, it’s come to that. More than one psychotropic is becoming the rule, little kids totally on atypical anti-psychotic cocktails with no end in sight.
Conflicting diagnoses, side effects, medication costs, doubting parents, marriages breaking up– it’s all there, the stories are sad and infuriating, poly-stupid, evil even, with the corruption and exploitation and professional abdication, so I went psychotic in the middle of the second part, just lost my mind. I’m back now but I don’t want to go haywire again, so I’m being brief but you ought to know what’s going on, it’s beyond belief, and the New York Times is getting hip to the issues.
I’ll re-post what I had to say about it over at Furious Seasons. Of all the psych sites I visit that’s the blog with the best bullshit detector; Philip is an author and journalist who has mental illness too, so he brings a lot to the table. Plus he is very kind when his readers have meltdowns in the comments, though a few of mine have been deleted, I think that was a misunderstanding, by and large he is the most tolerant:
That is a good series in the Times though I’ve had my trouble reading it, last week I stopped where the happy and complacent mom gushes about psychopharm’s effect on her child and her plan to write a book about her enlightening journey. I can’t handle this, what is happening to this generation, to therapeutics, to phenomenology, simple common sense. I swear to god these reports make me a little psychotic myself.
I know it’s complex and heartbreaking to see a fifteen year old slash up her arms. I know it’s easier to treat the symptoms and ignore the meaning of it. I have no fucking sympathy for this mentality, none.
If we could just please consider the behavior has meaning, is not necessarily a constitutional defect. This is what psychiatry has taught us. Where the hell are the psychiatrists?
The nature/nurture investigation is dead. Environment is irrelevant. In a classroom of 25 the one acting out is the defacto problem. There’s nothing wrong with the other 24 because they’re not acting out. This is the conventional wisdom.
What happened to that whole body of scholarship? Family systems theory, where kids take on scapegoating roles in dysfunctional systems? Where did this go? Are families no longer dysfunctional? Did we cure neglect and maltreatment?
We’re literalizing the metaphorical scapegoat, as a culture we are collaborating with depravity. Exploited within the family and within the institutions meant to address the family. No place to go.
We deserve every minute of the coming shitstorm once these kids grow up and come to terms with what’s been done to control them.
Just go read it. As for me, I’m going into menopause. I don’t know that I’m up for it. Came thisclose to taking a Seroquel to knock myself out like a light in the night but instead I exercised, hard, for thirty minutes to a Jane Fonda video. First time in a year I worked out, and I feel great, even had a bowel movement, and believe me I needed it. My body’s at that stage now, I have to deal. I keep coming back to this. What’s it gonna be? Live or die.
I’m delving for real into the new Bob Dylan CD, and have a feeling this is where my energy will be for the next few weeks. The man is like Bob Dylan to me. Been waiting a long time for this and I can’t get passed the opening track, it’s a flat-out rocker:
Thunder on the mountain, and there’s fires on the moon
A ruckus in the alley and the sun will be here soon
Today’s the day, gonna grab my trombone and blow
Well, there’s hot stuff here and it’s everywhere I go
I was thinkin’ ’bout Alicia Keys, couldn’t keep from crying
When she was born in Hell’s Kitchen, I was living down the line
I’m wondering where in the world Alicia Keys could be
I been looking for her even clear through Tennessee
Feel like my soul is beginning to expand
Look into my heart and you will sort of understand
You brought me here, now you’re trying to run me away
The writing on the wall, come read it, come see what it say
Thunder on the mountain, rollin’ like a drum
Gonna sleep over there, that’s where the music coming from
I don’t need any guide, I already know the way
Remember this, I’m your servant both night and day
The pistols are poppin’ and the power is down
I’d like to try somethin’ but I’m so far from town
The sun keeps shinin’ and the North Wind keeps picking up speed
Gonna forget about myself for a while, gonna go out and see what others need
I’ve been sittin’ down studyin’ the art of love
I think it will fit me like a glove
I want some real good woman to do just what I say
Everybody got to wonder what’s the matter with this cruel world today
Thunder on the mountain rolling to the ground
Gonna get up in the morning walk the hard road down
Some sweet day I’ll stand beside my king
I wouldn’t betray your love or any other thing
Gonna raise me an army, some tough sons of bitches
I’ll recruit my army from the orphanages
I been to St. Herman’s church, said my religious vows
I’ve sucked the milk out of a thousand cows
I got the porkchops, she got the pie
She ain’t no angel and neither am I
Shame on your greed, shame on your wicked schemes
I’ll say this, I don’t give a damn about your dreams
Thunder on the mountain heavy as can be
Mean old twister bearing down on me
All the ladies in Washington scrambling to get out of town
Looks like something bad gonna happen, better roll your airplane down
Everybody going and I want to go too
Don’t wanna take a chance with somebody new
I did all I could, I did it right there and then
I’ve already confessed – no need to confess again
Gonna make a lot of money, gonna go up north
I’ll plant and I’ll harvest what the earth brings forth
The hammer’s on the table, the pitchfork’s on the shelf
For the love of God, you ought to take pity on yourself