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Results so far:
| Yes | 65% | 397 votes | Total: 613 votes | |
| No | 35% | 216 votes |
Yes
Created on: January 18, 2009 Last Updated: February 03, 2009
When I went to work I never knew what to expect. One thing I could count on is that I would not be bored. I would have some interesting things to deal with be it residents or staff. The problem was how much time I put into my work. My darn phone kept me tied to the place twenty-four hours a day. My kids told me I might as well stay at work every-time the phone rang. In the end that is why I eventually changed jobs even though I liked the one I held.
I worked as a nurse in a supervisory position in a mental health nursing home for several years. Do you wonder why I write it as a mental health nursing home? The mental health facilities do not even have their own governing body. They are supervised by the same institution that supervises and grants accreditations or sanctions to nursing homes. Most of the mentally ill in this community are under 50. Since when do we put our 50 year old relatives in nursing home?
I do not think the mentally ill should be viewed as America's throwaways but I do believe that they are. Most of the time when taking the mentally ill out into the community they would scare people. Maybe I need to wonder if a person who talked to themselves at length or who hollered out obscenities at every turn would have scared me if I had not been accustomed to these behaviors. Most of the mentally ill people I worked with where harmless and I knew this. I suppose I have to understand that others did not have this pertinent knowledge.
Maybe knowledge is the key as it so often is. The public needs to be educated to the fact that not all mentally ill people are unsafe. Not all mentally ill people are unhappy either which I believe to be a big misconception. Most of the mentally ill people I worked with were happy and harmless.
I worked with approximately 80 individuals. Out of that 80 approximately 4 to 5 were dangerous physically, 2 were sexual predators and the rest were well adjusted under their circumstances and they were mentally ill. I do not have any hard statistics but I would bet good money that these percentages would closely reflect the general (non-mentally ill) population.
Only about 10 of these 80 people were over 55. This is my point . Why are they in a nursing home and regulated by the same rules that often do not apply? Mental Health facilities need to have regulations specific to these organizations. These people deserve their own rules and regulations based on their specifics. If they do not have their own rules then I would definitely say that society has thrown them away.
I would really have liked to have voted no to this debate. The mentally ill often have a lot to offer. Many of the people I worked with were gifted musicians and writers. Most of them were sensitive and caring to others all of the time. I do not believe that my last statement could be said of the general population. Now before I start sounding like I am not proud of our population let me just explain that I do not think the word most could have been utilized in the same sentence about sensitivity and caring. I do believe that a lot of people are sensitive and caring. Hopefully they will begin to care about the mentally ill and lobby for them to have their own set of rules and regulations.
I now work in a hospital setting. The mentally ill get sick and come to the hospital just as you or I would. I often get to take care of them because my co-workers know that I enjoy this particular type of patient. Please join me in getting the mentally ill out of the throwaway pile.
Learn more about this author, Christina Peavler.
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No
Created on: December 16, 2009
People with mental illness wouldn't be throwaways if the system they are thrown into wasn't so flawed. Involuntary commitment in the United States is a regular occurrence, and very often the sane are mistaken for the insane.
In 2003 my husband and I were in the course of some terrible marital problems. We had just had our fourth child. Sleep was scarce and tempers flared. One night it got bad and there was some yelling. The next thing I knew, six police officers were in my living room, circling me like a suspected felon. I was standing in my kitchen, dressed in only a bathrobe. For the next 45 minutes they paced, asked me questions, and raised their eyebrows.
I tried to maintain my right to not answer and offered to speak to one of them in private. They declined.
The stand-off continued. It ended by me agreeing to go the local psychiatric hospital. I thought it was to visit with a counselor, sort things out. Once out of the car in the hospital parking lot, I was surrounded by 8 people, who closed in on me in unison.
"Let’s just take this slow,” one of them said.
I blacked out, and woke up hours later, faced down on a bed in the dark. I felt my underwear being pulled down, but couldn’t move. A needle was inserted into my rear and a burning sensation trickled into my bloodstream.
What followed after that was unthinkable. I woke up again, to find myself in a locked ward and on a perfectly legal three day hold, supposedly for the incident at home. I was told to attend the ward’s 12 step programs for addictions I didn’t have, or jewelry-making therapy. I wanted to see my children, but the doctor later scolded me for such a request.
“If you don’t take the medication you’ll never see your children again.” I was incredulous. I started to cry. This was all documented as further evidence of my “illness”.
A few days later, I would appear before a judge, having arrived at the courthouse in a caged sheriff van, like a criminal.
There a psychiatrist testified against me, describing my disorder which included having “intense paranoia” and being “overly aggressive”. The attorney assigned to represent me said little during the hearing. With one slam of a gavel I was declared incompetent. If I refused medication, I would be forcibly injected and it was ordered I stay in the hospital for one month.
During those weeks I lost all sense of who I was, especially as my children weren’t allowed to see me. The friends and family who did come to visit me had all bought into the notion that I was ill. This sent me spiraling down.
I was released finally and believed incorrectly that if I could just get home to my children and resume my previous life, I could make things right again. But I couldn’t. Soccer moms in the school parking averted their eyes when I waved. Some stared. Some just came right out and asked if I was “still taking my medication”. There was now a divide I couldn’t cross. They were the sane. I was “sick”.
My children showed visible scars of my absence. They were irritable, behind in school and cried at the drop of a hat. My marriage, once solid was now bleating. The bills rolled in, and the final tally for my “care” after insurance tallied in the thousands.
I crashed into a horrible depression and couldn’t get out of bed. Now I really did feel crazy. Luckily and yet also sadly, I would discover that my story wasn’t unique. The internet took me into the world of other psychiatric “survivors”.
"Over one million Americans are involuntarily committed every year in the U.S.,” says Jim Gottstein, attorney at law in Alaska and founder of Psych Rights, a non-profit organization focusing on unwarranted court ordered drugging. Gottstein, who earned his JD from Harvard, posts “Everyday Horrors of The Mental Health System” on his site where people, often respected and educated members of the community, recount their time in the psychiatric slammer.
But Gottstein’s efforts are not just to blog and weep. His group, founded in 2002 is on overdrive to expose the abuse of involuntary commitment. In June of 2006, the Alaska Supreme Court heard Myers v. Alaska Psychiatric Institute, which ruled Alaska's forced drugging procedures unconstitutional. Faith Meyers was a patient objecting to being forcibly medicated, Gottstein represented her. Psych Rights also works at exposing the pharmaceutical’s role in minimizing the side effects of these medications. They focus on the importance and alternatives for counseling and non-medicated therapies for the mentally ill.
Today many Americans die in these hospitals over forced medication. That’s the real issue we need to address. Luckily I survived my ordeal and lived to tell about it. Others aren’t as fortunate. It’s a terrible thing to be declared insane. It’s an even greater tragedy to die trying to prove that you aren’t.
Learn more about this author, Jennifer Bioche.
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