uncagedbird’s Neighborhood

Ready to be Happy?

As it turns out, I am apparently not ready to be happy. A couple weeks ago I was sitting in my doctor's office having another crying jag, complaining I had lost my bounce, didn't feel I had any resilience left. We had a 10 minute appointment, so in all fairness to him, it wasn't like I could get into any great detail about the fact that my husband was made redundant 11 months ago, I am the "IT' gal in every sense of the word, financial worries are pressing like a 10,000 pound weight on my throat, my work is stressful and I had too much on my plate, I was recently hospitalized with a heart scare and complications of my thyroid disease, and final kickers, my 16 year old daughter decided to turn a one month holiday into estrangement, and with the support of other family members, create what is sure to be, one more family 'disaster'.

In absence of listening to that long litany of 'factors' - what my doctor did do was write me a prescription ... for Celexa, an anti-depressant. Not sleeping? Not hungry? Can't concentrate? Crying all the time? Here's a pill. I was still crying when he handed the prescription to me, and even though I knew I wouldn't 'cash the cheque' I took it anyway. When I got into the car with my husband, I told him about the prescription and we looked at each other for a few moments and went ... nahhhhh.

Before I launch into a ditribe about the over prescribing of anti-depressants, especially to women - I preface this by saying, I have nothing against anti-depressants. They help many people, who truly need them and for whom, without them, quality of life would be significantly compromised. There are times when anti-depressants are the 'right' answer, but for me, this is not one of those times. I could not help but wonder, why my dr didn't spend even one minute discussing proven anti-drug alternatives such as exercise, counseling, nutritional therapies, or meditation to support my obvious emotional distress, rather than scribbling a prescription for an antidepressant? A rightly cynical friend pointed out that dr's do not recieve 'kickbacks' for counseling referrals but they do for issuing prescriptions. I don't know if that was my dr's motivation, but point well made.

So, I asked myself, if I were to pull 100 people off the street who were going through the same things I was, how many of them would be crying in their dr's offices (or the super market, the car, the shower, and bedroom)? I am pretty sure the most of them would be faring about the same as I am. This means how I am feeling is not a result of some 'biochemical imbalance' in my brain. It means the problem is situational, and I need to find some ways to change the situations so I can feel better.

After some quick research on the internet about my prescription I realized, taking a pill whilst everything continues the same way isn't going to make me happier, just numb-er, with the risk of a whole bunch of side effects I really don't need at this point in time; abdominal pain, agitation, anxiety, diarrhea, drowsiness, dry mouth, fatigue, impotence, indigestion, insomnia, loss of appetite, nausea, painful menstruation, respiratory tract infection, sinus or nasal inflammation, sweating, tremor, vomiting etc.

Now I'm sorry, but I have enough going on, without risking any of those problems!

I feel for my dr, who is a pretty good guy. He did take some aggressive steps around my thyroid disease and heart scare and obviously he can't write me a prescription for:

- job for husband
- money to get out of rising debt
- a personal life assistant to pick up some of my slack
- a cure for my thyroid disease
- a reduction of my work stress
- a fix for an estranged family
- or returning my 16 year old daughter, home, where she belongs

He did what he could do. He wrote a prescription for an antidepressant, advised me to take two weeks off work and let my upgraded thyroid medication kick in.

I have a supportive boss and a great team and I took those two weeks off. I also chose to sit in the sun a bit, listen to relaxing music, meditate a little, and breathe. I have followed his advice, other than the antidepressant part, and guess what? I am feeling a bit better. Nothing has changed significantly, but I feel more rested, and almost ready to tackle some more life changes which will support me to better manage what is undoubtedly, a really stressful time.

There is an added bonus for me, in my situation, that has come by not traveling down the antidepressant road. I feel stronger, more capable, more resilient and convinced that I can make choices that will support me to feel better. Choices that don't involve medication and side effects.

Maybe I am ready to feel better after all.

[Posting permission given to The Kathleen Show, Prevention Not Prescription]

I’ve been reading this book, which I picked up at a recent AASW conference I attended. This post is a bit of a review of the book, but is also liberally peppered  with my own experiences and thoughts both as a social worker and as a woman who has grown up with a mother who, I now recognize, had mental health issues.

Firstly, Catherine’s book (and research) is primarily based on the experiences of 11 women who are all 40-ish or so. This places these stories in a particular period of time, generally speaking the 60’s-70’s. The research is Australian and reflects Australian practices around mental health and institutional care of women/mothers who were diagnosed with significant mental health problems. It serves a reflection of the mental health system as seen through the personal narratives of the women who participated in the study.

The book addresses the stigma associated with having a ‘mad mother’ – and the isolation, shame and fear that these women experienced as children, the impact on their everyday lives – and the ongoing effect it has had on their adult lives, relationships etc. As a collection of lived experiences, the book certainly highlights the resilience of children and families. The criteria that the mothers must have been institutionalized was frustrating for me. I would have liked the broader inclusion of women who had experienced growing up with ‘mad moms’ who were not medicated or institutionalized but still left their daughters with a legacy of ‘wtf’.

I grew up with the peripheral understanding that my mother was an alcoholic. I say I have ‘peripheral’ awareness as there are many things, which are not openly addressed in my family and I left home at the age of 15 and have had, all in all, minimal contact with my mother or my extended family. Many of the situations which were a part of my growing up, I attributed to having a very young (she was 16 when I was born) mother who struggled with alcohol addiction. I saw her emotional estrangement and violence in this context and it was not until I was an adult that the story shifted to include a diagnosis of bi-polar depression, which had gone undiagnosed and untreated (as far as I am aware) while I was growing up. As an adult I am aware of my mother’s ongoing relationship with mental health professionals, drug therapies and hospitalizations, which include electroshock therapy. I have been peripherally aware of the fact that her mental health issues have prevented her from working, or using the social work degree she earned in her mid 30’s. I am also deeply aware of how unhappy she has been most of her life, and the impact that has had upon me, my life choices, my relationships and my parenting.

This is not about ‘mommy blame’, as I sometimes felt while I read Catherine’s book. For me, the book lacks a clearly articulated social justice framework, and a gendered analysis which may have allowed for more of a compassionate view of the mothers than that which I found while reading this book. And tho I found the stories of the daughters highly compelling, I would have found the book more balanced if the mothers stories, the social construction of mothering and mental health, and the relationship and responsibility of the wider family and community had been considered in more depth.

I imagine the context of the book was to give each of the women an opportunity to be central in their own story. So often when someone in your family is ill, they become the ’star’ and everyone else becomes a shadow – hence the book title. However, I believe the possibilities for healing would have been greater, again, if the stories of the mothers and the social construction of mothering and mental health, and the relationship and responsibility of the wider family and community had been more fleshed out.

For instance, a daughter may view their mother’s ‘crazy’ behavior in relation to the impact it has on her thoughts, feelings and physical reality – but would that reality change with an appreciation of how the mother was experiencing that same moment? Also, again, would there not be greater capacity to be gentle and generous with our own struggles to maintain relationships and raise children, if we could understand where personal issues begin and end?

It is not the ‘fault’ of the mothers that they had mental health problems. It is not the fault of the mothers that mental health problems carried/s such social stigma. It is not the fault of the mothers that there were/are very poor supports, services or resources for themselves or their families. It is not the mothers fault that the institutional care provided to them was so very often the best of a worst solution. It is not the fault of the mothers that the fathers and wider family and community were not there to offset and support the mothers or their children. Yes the mental health of their mothers created a legacy of issues for each woman, but locating the responsibility of those issues with the mother, who was ill,and also suffering, seems to me, to grotesquely miss the mark.

We don’t talk much about my mother’s mental health problems. Actually, we don’t talk. Estrangement is part of the legacy of the mental health problems in my family, as is the inability of individual family members to locate themselves in those issues. My mother’s mental health problems are one variable in a complex tapestry of family dynamics. What I can say is, I have come to see my mother’s story in a gendered, socially conscious manner – and that allows me compassion – even tho, it does not allow me a relationship.

[Cross posted @ E-Strange]