New great video by Sean Blackwell:
Showing posts with label spiritual emergency. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spiritual emergency. Show all posts
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
Tuesday, 24 February 2009
Gianna on Madness Radio
Will Hall has interviewed Gianna Kali of Beyond Meds for Madness Radio. Gianna talks about how she got into the mh system and her experiences with it, about spirituality, psychiatric drug withdrawal, the damage these drugs can do, her blog, and much more. She also reads a couple of posts from her blog. Especially listening to Gianna reading "Undiagnozing myself" was a deeply moving experience for me.
"So now I continue on my journey and I am undiagnosing myself. I am human and I have problems. That is the only diagnosis I am willing to live with now. Human problems. My life has not been easy. It has been no different from that of hundreds of thousands of people labeled bipolar. I still consider all who call themselves bipolar my brothers and sisters. And for that matter anyone else who has ever been labeled with any psychiatric disorder. We are family."
I remember someone once saying to me, that he got the impression, the critics didn't have much else in common than their criticism of the mh system. Well, that seems to be the impression the system communicates. Divide and rule. It seems to be the impression people get, who've never really listened to anyone of us, and who've never met someone like Gianna.
Listen to the interview here: http://www.madnessradio.net/madness-radio-beyond-meds-gianna-kali
"So now I continue on my journey and I am undiagnosing myself. I am human and I have problems. That is the only diagnosis I am willing to live with now. Human problems. My life has not been easy. It has been no different from that of hundreds of thousands of people labeled bipolar. I still consider all who call themselves bipolar my brothers and sisters. And for that matter anyone else who has ever been labeled with any psychiatric disorder. We are family."
I remember someone once saying to me, that he got the impression, the critics didn't have much else in common than their criticism of the mh system. Well, that seems to be the impression the system communicates. Divide and rule. It seems to be the impression people get, who've never really listened to anyone of us, and who've never met someone like Gianna.
Listen to the interview here: http://www.madnessradio.net/madness-radio-beyond-meds-gianna-kali
Saturday, 29 November 2008
Sunday, 12 October 2008
Emergencies I
Some time ago, a friend told me about an incident on a Danish discussion forum, more precisely: at the forum's chat room. A guy announced, that he would take his life, right there, while being online. Everyone of course got extremely upset, and everything was tried to find out who he was, where he lived. I don't know, if they succeeded. Of course, the idea was to call the police, make them check up on him, and, in case, get him admitted/committed.
Each time I hear about situations like this, if it's about suicide or someone "just" going "manic"/"psychotic", it seems people's first reaction is to call the cops, or get the person to an ER at the rate of knots.
It was the mid-eighties, I was in my twenties, studying at Munich, living downtown where I rented a room at a woman's, G.'s, apartment, at the mezzanine. It was about 11pm. I sat in the kitchen, contemplating a rather early retreat, since I had an early class next day, and I was dog-tired. G. was out that night, and wasn't expected to come home before the next day. The doorbell rang. 'Now?' I thought, 'Nope, sorry.' A few moments later, I heard a woman shout G.'s name in the street, right under the kitchen window. Three times, and I went to the window: "Hey there, what's up? G.'s not home," I reached to say before I realized the confused and terrified expression on the young woman's face, and added: "But you can come in and have a cup of tea, if you like." She liked.
We talked a bit, or, more like: she talked, I listened, before I asked her her name. "S." I'd heard that name mentioned a few times before, in context with the term "schizophrenia". The term didn't mean much to me. I'd read some Jung, some Alice Miller, that kind of stuff. But I had no idea about psychiatry's definition of the term. Actually, I hadn't much of an idea about psychiatry at all. So, basically, the only thing I had at hand to relate to was S. herself.
We sat and talked for about a couple of hours. She was obviously agitated, talked fast, and a little incoherently every now and then, but nonetheless perfectly intelligible. I offered her to stay and crash on G.'s sofa, which she accepted, so I equipped her with a pillow and a blanket, and went to my own room. Mistake. Ten minutes later, she popped up at my bedside - or: mattress side, that is - telling me, she thought, she was the phone, or some kind of medium at least. The word "rubbish" immediately crossed my mind, and although a 'No, not rubbish at all!' also crossed my mind at the same time, I reached to say it: "Rubbish." Second mistake. Luckily, she wasn't offended, and I suggested some more tea and talk. We passed the phone on our way to the kitchen. I gave it a glance, and thought: 'Never. That would be the ultimate betrayal.' No mistake.
We spent about an hour more at the kitchen table, talking. I made my third mistake in asking about her father when talking about her family, which resulted in some "word salad". Obviously the core problem. Her father. I can only guess... Well, I changed subject, and, voilà, no more "word salad".
Eventually, we went to sleep again. This time I stayed at her bed- or: sofa side, until I was sure, she was asleep. She was quite all right the next day, and went home.
We kept in touch for a while afterwards, then I moved and lost contact.
What really maddened - and saddened - me, was G.'s reaction, when I told her about what had happened. G. was one of the "enlightened" ones. Reading the Tao, the I Ching, Jung and stuff. And she hardly ever touched as much as an Aspirin herself, since she considered all drugs to be poison. Which they are. Nevertheless, this is what she said: "Oh no! She's such a pain in the behind! She's got pills at home, but won't take them. It's entirely her own fault. I don't want to get involved!" I didn't know anything particular about the "pills" either at that time. What I knew was that pills impossibly could be the right answer to S.'s problems. Especially not when you're oh so enlightened. So much for G. being "enlightened".
_______________
And why is it not at all rubbish, if someone thinks s/he's the phone, or a medium of a kind? Because if you've never been allowed to establish a language of your own, if your own emotions and thoughts consequently were denied by others, while you were told what to feel and think by these others, then, at some point, all you feel and think is others' emotions and thoughts, and you become a medium through which these others feel and think. You become the phone, others talk through.
Applies just as well to believing thoughts are put into one's head. They are. In the dim and distant past. Or believing others can read your thoughts. If the person someone was most dependent on, apparently could, why would other people not be able to?
The term "schizophrenia" still doesn't mean a lot to me. I experienced S., a couple of others, and I experienced myself. What I experienced wasn't "schizophrenia", not "insanity". It was, the circumstances taken into account, absolutely reasonable and sane confusion, terror and anger.
Each time I hear about situations like this, if it's about suicide or someone "just" going "manic"/"psychotic", it seems people's first reaction is to call the cops, or get the person to an ER at the rate of knots.
It was the mid-eighties, I was in my twenties, studying at Munich, living downtown where I rented a room at a woman's, G.'s, apartment, at the mezzanine. It was about 11pm. I sat in the kitchen, contemplating a rather early retreat, since I had an early class next day, and I was dog-tired. G. was out that night, and wasn't expected to come home before the next day. The doorbell rang. 'Now?' I thought, 'Nope, sorry.' A few moments later, I heard a woman shout G.'s name in the street, right under the kitchen window. Three times, and I went to the window: "Hey there, what's up? G.'s not home," I reached to say before I realized the confused and terrified expression on the young woman's face, and added: "But you can come in and have a cup of tea, if you like." She liked.
We talked a bit, or, more like: she talked, I listened, before I asked her her name. "S." I'd heard that name mentioned a few times before, in context with the term "schizophrenia". The term didn't mean much to me. I'd read some Jung, some Alice Miller, that kind of stuff. But I had no idea about psychiatry's definition of the term. Actually, I hadn't much of an idea about psychiatry at all. So, basically, the only thing I had at hand to relate to was S. herself.
We sat and talked for about a couple of hours. She was obviously agitated, talked fast, and a little incoherently every now and then, but nonetheless perfectly intelligible. I offered her to stay and crash on G.'s sofa, which she accepted, so I equipped her with a pillow and a blanket, and went to my own room. Mistake. Ten minutes later, she popped up at my bedside - or: mattress side, that is - telling me, she thought, she was the phone, or some kind of medium at least. The word "rubbish" immediately crossed my mind, and although a 'No, not rubbish at all!' also crossed my mind at the same time, I reached to say it: "Rubbish." Second mistake. Luckily, she wasn't offended, and I suggested some more tea and talk. We passed the phone on our way to the kitchen. I gave it a glance, and thought: 'Never. That would be the ultimate betrayal.' No mistake.
We spent about an hour more at the kitchen table, talking. I made my third mistake in asking about her father when talking about her family, which resulted in some "word salad". Obviously the core problem. Her father. I can only guess... Well, I changed subject, and, voilà, no more "word salad".
Eventually, we went to sleep again. This time I stayed at her bed- or: sofa side, until I was sure, she was asleep. She was quite all right the next day, and went home.
We kept in touch for a while afterwards, then I moved and lost contact.
What really maddened - and saddened - me, was G.'s reaction, when I told her about what had happened. G. was one of the "enlightened" ones. Reading the Tao, the I Ching, Jung and stuff. And she hardly ever touched as much as an Aspirin herself, since she considered all drugs to be poison. Which they are. Nevertheless, this is what she said: "Oh no! She's such a pain in the behind! She's got pills at home, but won't take them. It's entirely her own fault. I don't want to get involved!" I didn't know anything particular about the "pills" either at that time. What I knew was that pills impossibly could be the right answer to S.'s problems. Especially not when you're oh so enlightened. So much for G. being "enlightened".
_______________
And why is it not at all rubbish, if someone thinks s/he's the phone, or a medium of a kind? Because if you've never been allowed to establish a language of your own, if your own emotions and thoughts consequently were denied by others, while you were told what to feel and think by these others, then, at some point, all you feel and think is others' emotions and thoughts, and you become a medium through which these others feel and think. You become the phone, others talk through.
Applies just as well to believing thoughts are put into one's head. They are. In the dim and distant past. Or believing others can read your thoughts. If the person someone was most dependent on, apparently could, why would other people not be able to?
The term "schizophrenia" still doesn't mean a lot to me. I experienced S., a couple of others, and I experienced myself. What I experienced wasn't "schizophrenia", not "insanity". It was, the circumstances taken into account, absolutely reasonable and sane confusion, terror and anger.
Thursday, 26 June 2008
A sacred process II
Some more thoughts in the wake of Sean Blackwell's video and his latest blog entry.
Make sure to read the "Introduction to my new book..." at Sean's blog, where he takes on Kay Redfield Jamison's An Unquiet Mind. Those of you who've been to read Chauncey's analysis of Jill Bolte Taylor's TED Talk, also will have found him praise Kay Redfield Jamison whom he contrasts to Jill Bolte Taylor - in regard to style.
When it comes to contents, both are pretty much the same: both talk about crises being biological illnesses, brain diseases, that are incurable, chronic illnesses, and that need lifelong "medication" in order to be kept under control.
If you've been around this blog only for a moment, you'll know that I strongly disagree with this point of view as there's no evidence so far for crises to be biological illnesses, and as I see that this mainstream-viewpoint actually has stripped and still does strip "countless people of hope for a truly better life, medication free", as Sean writes. Indeed, I find it morally irresponsible by the mental health system to, continuously, make a claim like that, into the bargain often in a way that suggests it were a proven fact rather than a mere hypothesis, a mere theory, and I wish there were more professionals like Ron Unger who'd dare to speak up and challenge the system concerning this matter.
Sadly, I haven't encountered as much as one single professional, psychiatrist, psychologist, or any other, here in Denmark yet, who has shown to be as courageous as Ron (and a number of other professionals abroad). Not even the "brilliant (though not perfect...) guidance". Let me know if you have. I'll be happy to do a piece on him/her!
Now, I can't blame Chauncey for his praise of Kay Redfield Jamison as he, as far as I know, has no personal experience of "madness", his opinion on the matter (whatever it is) thus of course being a result of the information that is immediately available to the public. Which is the mainstream information, stating that extreme states of mind are due to brain diseases. Thus Kay Redfield Jamison's book An Unquiet Mind is published by Macmillan, Jill Bolte Taylor's My Stroke of Insight by the Viking Penguin Group, and both can easily be found at both Amazon and Barnes & Noble, while Sean Blackwell's book A Quiet Mind is published by and can only be purchased through Chipmunkapublishing, a small though significant, British underground publisher, specialized in books about mental health and well being.
Well, and although I do not at all agree in neither Jill Bolte Taylor's nor Kay Redfield Jamison's conception of crises to be biological diseases, I nevertheless widely agree to Chauncey's criticism of Jill Bolte Taylor's TED Talk. At least as far as style is concerned.
In regard to contents, I will certainly read Sean's book. I'm actually looking very much forward to it. While I think, I will spare me the doubtful pleasure of reading Kay Redfield Jamison's book. I've read several books of that kind, and the reading always left me with extremely unpleasant feelings of despair and powerlessness.
As for Sean's call for people to share about their experiences with extreme states of mind, I find it just as important as he does, in order to reduce the public's ignorance and fear of these states, that unfortunately only has been increased by the mainstream conception of these states to be caused by biological illness, thus being nothing but meaningless and unpredictable (and thus dangerous) "madness" (that would have to be fought and suppressed at any price). Although I also find it quite challenging to share such a deeply personal experience publicly, I have considered doing so for a while, and will share at least some of it in time to come.
Make sure to read the "Introduction to my new book..." at Sean's blog, where he takes on Kay Redfield Jamison's An Unquiet Mind. Those of you who've been to read Chauncey's analysis of Jill Bolte Taylor's TED Talk, also will have found him praise Kay Redfield Jamison whom he contrasts to Jill Bolte Taylor - in regard to style.
When it comes to contents, both are pretty much the same: both talk about crises being biological illnesses, brain diseases, that are incurable, chronic illnesses, and that need lifelong "medication" in order to be kept under control.
If you've been around this blog only for a moment, you'll know that I strongly disagree with this point of view as there's no evidence so far for crises to be biological illnesses, and as I see that this mainstream-viewpoint actually has stripped and still does strip "countless people of hope for a truly better life, medication free", as Sean writes. Indeed, I find it morally irresponsible by the mental health system to, continuously, make a claim like that, into the bargain often in a way that suggests it were a proven fact rather than a mere hypothesis, a mere theory, and I wish there were more professionals like Ron Unger who'd dare to speak up and challenge the system concerning this matter.
Sadly, I haven't encountered as much as one single professional, psychiatrist, psychologist, or any other, here in Denmark yet, who has shown to be as courageous as Ron (and a number of other professionals abroad). Not even the "brilliant (though not perfect...) guidance". Let me know if you have. I'll be happy to do a piece on him/her!
Now, I can't blame Chauncey for his praise of Kay Redfield Jamison as he, as far as I know, has no personal experience of "madness", his opinion on the matter (whatever it is) thus of course being a result of the information that is immediately available to the public. Which is the mainstream information, stating that extreme states of mind are due to brain diseases. Thus Kay Redfield Jamison's book An Unquiet Mind is published by Macmillan, Jill Bolte Taylor's My Stroke of Insight by the Viking Penguin Group, and both can easily be found at both Amazon and Barnes & Noble, while Sean Blackwell's book A Quiet Mind is published by and can only be purchased through Chipmunkapublishing, a small though significant, British underground publisher, specialized in books about mental health and well being.
Well, and although I do not at all agree in neither Jill Bolte Taylor's nor Kay Redfield Jamison's conception of crises to be biological diseases, I nevertheless widely agree to Chauncey's criticism of Jill Bolte Taylor's TED Talk. At least as far as style is concerned.
In regard to contents, I will certainly read Sean's book. I'm actually looking very much forward to it. While I think, I will spare me the doubtful pleasure of reading Kay Redfield Jamison's book. I've read several books of that kind, and the reading always left me with extremely unpleasant feelings of despair and powerlessness.
As for Sean's call for people to share about their experiences with extreme states of mind, I find it just as important as he does, in order to reduce the public's ignorance and fear of these states, that unfortunately only has been increased by the mainstream conception of these states to be caused by biological illness, thus being nothing but meaningless and unpredictable (and thus dangerous) "madness" (that would have to be fought and suppressed at any price). Although I also find it quite challenging to share such a deeply personal experience publicly, I have considered doing so for a while, and will share at least some of it in time to come.
Wednesday, 25 June 2008
A sacred process
Sean at Bipolar or WakingUp?! posted the below video on YouTube yesterday. I just love it. Absolutely awesome! Well, and what he says about "mania" applies just as well to any other kind of "psychosis": it's a sacred process.
Here is Sean's video:
Here is Sean's video:
Sunday, 25 November 2007
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