How can you ever be sure that you're not just normal?
Friday, 4 Feb 2011, 17:28
Visible to anyone in the world
Edited by ROSIE Rushton-Stone, Friday, 4 Feb 2011, 17:42
This has been bugging me for about four years on a personal level, and longer on a general level. Some of the (very interesting) forum chats are heightening my awareness of how easy it is to be misdiagnosed, both in physical and mental health.
I am loathe to discuss diagnoses that I've recieved as a rule... for the most part, my friends and family are unaware. I have never seen the point. The odd time that I have shared, it has either caused worry to people that I care about, or led to a lot of questions that I have no desire to answer. So I keep it to myself. Also, once again, these are issues that are highly emotional for some, and I feel far more comfortable writing in the confines of my blog, where people need not wander! But for the purposes of this ramble, I need to base my opinion on some sort of factual evidence.
I think people that know me would be quite surprised. I am known for being the happy joker of any group. I like to entertain people, and it is very rare, even when I am on my own, that I feel unhappy. I have two basic emotions: happy and angry. Not ideal, but there it is.
As a child, I had an endless number of amusing troubles, that caused no end of problems for both me and my mother. Luckily, I was academically very able, and was able to compensate for the vast majority of them, by thinking everything through. Aside from the occasional slip up leading to extreme anger and violence at whoever had exposed me for not being like everyone else, I made it through to adulthood basically unscathed. And then it all changed. I couldn't stand to be at home, and left very young. I got a job; I got a flat, and then I lost the plot. Not being in my little world that I had learnt the rules for, made me suddenly very aware of how ill-equipped I was to cope with the outside world. Over time, it led to much support from various non-drug but mind-altering therapies, that eventually reached the conclusion that I had lost the ability to react naturally, and the level of brain activity required to behave in this 'programmed computer' way, was too high. This led to various medical terms being thrown into my doctors' notes.
I have had two brilliant doctors, both of which left the practise after only a few months, so my time with them was brief. They understood that I understand myself extremely well, that I have no desire to have labels put upon me, and have no wish to have an excuse to miss out on any aspect of life. I love my life, and every label holds me back... if I share it. So I don't. On a personal level, it is useful to have a professional opinion, and in some ways, this aids the self-analysis that I love to engage in.
The thing that intrigues me now, is the latest diagnosis, that I think will stick actually, has removed THREE other life changing and serious mental health diagnoses. Removed them. I never had them. Or so says my notes. Now in my case, it happens that I have got through without getting involved in any form of medication. I have worked through them all well enough to 'pass the test' by thinking. Working out how I can get around the feelings, working out what to do when I experience them. There has been no huge impact on my life, or the lives of others around me, as in these cases I have chosen to leave them happily unaware. I wonder though, how many people have been sucked into a wrong diagnosis, and become the illness. Filling the box that they've been put into... how sad is that?
I know a man who was recently diagnosed with bi-polar disorder. Now I'm not disputing that he has it; I'm disputing the benefit of the label. While he was busily seeing doctors, he was certainly depressed, and initially was diagnosed with clinical depression. At the same time, he was drinking a bottle of whisky most nights, and smoking herbal roll-ups, as it were. He's been doing that for several years. But he had maintained his job, and he was a likeable character. I have to say I never saw anything more than depression in him, until he met a girl with bi-polar, at work. Within a week, he was having manic episodes. He went back to the doctor, described this girl's symptoms, and was rediagnosed: bi-polar. Again, I am not actually disputing that the diagnosis is correct (I know it sounds like it). It is 6 months on now, he is no longer in work, he has bought many text books, and has developed a whole range of symptoms. Noteably not one is atypical of bi-polar by definition. He is now on a high dose of lithium, and spends his days talking about his 'disability' and how the world doesn't make enough allowances for him. It has ruined him. The girl on the other hand finds the knowledge of her illness to be helpful in understanding herself. Prior to diagnosis she thought she was losing the plot, and although she still has episodes every six months or so, she manages her mental health extremely well. She loves life; she has no desire to have mental health problems, and she never feels the need to discuss them with strangers, and rarely with friends. The difference between them is remarkable. Her diagnoses saved her. His diagnosis destroyed him.
Now I realise I never went into mine, as I had planned. I was going to, and then I thought better of it! Rest assured, the girl I mention is a friend, and not my way of getting things off my chest. My personal example was closely linked to a current forum discussion, but I think I have made my point well enough without entering such territory! Chicken!
So I have to wonder, what would happen if the man I mention had not been diagnosed as such... if he had never met my friend, if maybe he had been told to stop drinking and smoking, to get a new hobby... I just wonder. And it bugs me, because I guess I'll never know.
How can you ever be sure that you're not just normal?
This has been bugging me for about four years on a personal level, and longer on a general level. Some of the (very interesting) forum chats are heightening my awareness of how easy it is to be misdiagnosed, both in physical and mental health.
I am loathe to discuss diagnoses that I've recieved as a rule... for the most part, my friends and family are unaware. I have never seen the point. The odd time that I have shared, it has either caused worry to people that I care about, or led to a lot of questions that I have no desire to answer. So I keep it to myself. Also, once again, these are issues that are highly emotional for some, and I feel far more comfortable writing in the confines of my blog, where people need not wander! But for the purposes of this ramble, I need to base my opinion on some sort of factual evidence.
I think people that know me would be quite surprised. I am known for being the happy joker of any group. I like to entertain people, and it is very rare, even when I am on my own, that I feel unhappy. I have two basic emotions: happy and angry. Not ideal, but there it is.
As a child, I had an endless number of amusing troubles, that caused no end of problems for both me and my mother. Luckily, I was academically very able, and was able to compensate for the vast majority of them, by thinking everything through. Aside from the occasional slip up leading to extreme anger and violence at whoever had exposed me for not being like everyone else, I made it through to adulthood basically unscathed. And then it all changed. I couldn't stand to be at home, and left very young. I got a job; I got a flat, and then I lost the plot. Not being in my little world that I had learnt the rules for, made me suddenly very aware of how ill-equipped I was to cope with the outside world. Over time, it led to much support from various non-drug but mind-altering therapies, that eventually reached the conclusion that I had lost the ability to react naturally, and the level of brain activity required to behave in this 'programmed computer' way, was too high. This led to various medical terms being thrown into my doctors' notes.
I have had two brilliant doctors, both of which left the practise after only a few months, so my time with them was brief. They understood that I understand myself extremely well, that I have no desire to have labels put upon me, and have no wish to have an excuse to miss out on any aspect of life. I love my life, and every label holds me back... if I share it. So I don't. On a personal level, it is useful to have a professional opinion, and in some ways, this aids the self-analysis that I love to engage in.
The thing that intrigues me now, is the latest diagnosis, that I think will stick actually, has removed THREE other life changing and serious mental health diagnoses. Removed them. I never had them. Or so says my notes. Now in my case, it happens that I have got through without getting involved in any form of medication. I have worked through them all well enough to 'pass the test' by thinking. Working out how I can get around the feelings, working out what to do when I experience them. There has been no huge impact on my life, or the lives of others around me, as in these cases I have chosen to leave them happily unaware. I wonder though, how many people have been sucked into a wrong diagnosis, and become the illness. Filling the box that they've been put into... how sad is that?
I know a man who was recently diagnosed with bi-polar disorder. Now I'm not disputing that he has it; I'm disputing the benefit of the label. While he was busily seeing doctors, he was certainly depressed, and initially was diagnosed with clinical depression. At the same time, he was drinking a bottle of whisky most nights, and smoking herbal roll-ups, as it were. He's been doing that for several years. But he had maintained his job, and he was a likeable character. I have to say I never saw anything more than depression in him, until he met a girl with bi-polar, at work. Within a week, he was having manic episodes. He went back to the doctor, described this girl's symptoms, and was rediagnosed: bi-polar. Again, I am not actually disputing that the diagnosis is correct (I know it sounds like it). It is 6 months on now, he is no longer in work, he has bought many text books, and has developed a whole range of symptoms. Noteably not one is atypical of bi-polar by definition. He is now on a high dose of lithium, and spends his days talking about his 'disability' and how the world doesn't make enough allowances for him. It has ruined him. The girl on the other hand finds the knowledge of her illness to be helpful in understanding herself. Prior to diagnosis she thought she was losing the plot, and although she still has episodes every six months or so, she manages her mental health extremely well. She loves life; she has no desire to have mental health problems, and she never feels the need to discuss them with strangers, and rarely with friends. The difference between them is remarkable. Her diagnoses saved her. His diagnosis destroyed him.
Now I realise I never went into mine, as I had planned. I was going to, and then I thought better of it! Rest assured, the girl I mention is a friend, and not my way of getting things off my chest. My personal example was closely linked to a current forum discussion, but I think I have made my point well enough without entering such territory! Chicken!
So I have to wonder, what would happen if the man I mention had not been diagnosed as such... if he had never met my friend, if maybe he had been told to stop drinking and smoking, to get a new hobby... I just wonder. And it bugs me, because I guess I'll never know.