On my last visit to my doctor, almost two years ago, I got fed a familiar line: here is a prescription, we'll put you on the waiting list, read this pamphlet full of handy tips on how to not top yourself. The first time I went to the doctor with depression I must have been about 13. My GP was reluctant to prescribe anti-depressants, as we both knew there was more wrong than just a chemical imbalance, but with a 4 month waiting list for an NHS counsellor there was little other choice. In the end I refused the drugs and got put on the list. Four months down the line I heard nothing, but I didn't care: my depression had lifted and I got on with my life.
For nearly a decade now I've had these occasional bouts of depression. Some are mild but prolonged. Others are short but intense. Each time I've been proactive enough to speak to my doctor, and each time has been the same: I've refused drugs and been put on a seemingly endless waiting list. I've never actually been seen by an NHS mental health team. The one time they did get in touch with me, a mix-up at their end meant I missed my appointment. When they asked if I wanted to rearrange, I declined: it'd been six months since I'd been to see my doctor and, by then, I was feeling much better.
The reason I've always declined drugs is two-fold. First of all, the prescription of anti-depressants is not an exact science, and I've seen enough cases of the negative side-effects outweighing the benefits. None of the various GPs who have tried to prescribe me anti-depressants has ever filled me with enough confidence to make that leap of faith. Secondly, I've always resisted the idea that my depression is simply down to medical issues which can be solved by drugs. The medical community is all too eager to try and cure the symptoms, leaving the cause untouched.
This time round, though, I am open to taking anti-depressants. For a start, I can't carry on denying that my depression is, in part at least, chemically caused. It's no coincidence that my visits to the GP fall almost exclusively in the first three months of the year. Secondly, with the NHS counselling services seeming like a distant prospect, I have to do as much as I can now. Third of all, I self-medicate anyway: my consumption of alcohol and other substances is certainly not helping. Finally, this depression marks a new low for me. All I can do is try and be proactive, do as much as I can to fight off this affliction. If that means dropping my resistance to anti-depressants, then I will just have to swallow that pill*.
(*Okay, so I'm not too depressed to make crap puns)
Showing posts with label mental illness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mental illness. Show all posts
Monday, 11 January 2010
Friday, 8 January 2010
Iris Robinson: cold and calculating
I must admit, there's something fairly entertaining about watching sanctimonious bigot Iris Robinson collapse in on herself. In 2008 the born again Christian claimed that all homosexual people should receive psychiatric treatment to overcome their ungodly desires. If this statement wasn't ludicrous enough, it came in the wake of a particularly nasty homophobic attack.
I have no problems with people having religious beliefs. What you do in your own home is no business of mine. In fact, I don't even mind it that much when people in positions of power come out and say incredibly bigoted things based on their religion - it makes it a lot easier to work out who the morons are if they publicly announce themselves. What I do have an issue with is when people are blatant hypocrites. And, according to some, that's exactly what Iris Robinson is.
However, it's easy to let righteous anger override our fairness. Granted, she came out and used Old Testament language to condemn homosexuals, before breaking the Good Book's rather explicit rules against adultery and fraud. Yet, she does practice what she preachers. When condemning homosexuals she suggested they seek psychological help. Now, thanks to her brush with death, it is Iris on the shrink's couch describing her sins.
What really gets me about this whole story is not that a person in a privileged position had an affair. It's not that she comitted fraud. Even the homophobia doesn't bother me too much (when I see a backlash like this one, my frozen heart melts just a tiny little bit). No, what really upsets me is that Iris Robinson tried to bury the bad news of her infidelity under the headline of "MP attempts suicide". To me, unless she's successful in her attempt, that's not really the story. The story is that Iris Robinson is not to be bloody trusted. To try and sneak that through under a wave of sympathy is disingenuous beyond belief.
Whether she actually tried to top herself or not isn't the point. Frankly, I'm willing to believe that she did. The point is: she put the suicide story out to soften the blow of unpleasant news; to limit the damage to the careers of herself and her husband. To try and score PR points from a suicide attempt is an insult to all of us who have suffered from non-politically expedient mental illnesses. And, frankly, the 'sin' of homosexuality pales in comparison to such cold calculating spin.
I have no problems with people having religious beliefs. What you do in your own home is no business of mine. In fact, I don't even mind it that much when people in positions of power come out and say incredibly bigoted things based on their religion - it makes it a lot easier to work out who the morons are if they publicly announce themselves. What I do have an issue with is when people are blatant hypocrites. And, according to some, that's exactly what Iris Robinson is.
However, it's easy to let righteous anger override our fairness. Granted, she came out and used Old Testament language to condemn homosexuals, before breaking the Good Book's rather explicit rules against adultery and fraud. Yet, she does practice what she preachers. When condemning homosexuals she suggested they seek psychological help. Now, thanks to her brush with death, it is Iris on the shrink's couch describing her sins.
What really gets me about this whole story is not that a person in a privileged position had an affair. It's not that she comitted fraud. Even the homophobia doesn't bother me too much (when I see a backlash like this one, my frozen heart melts just a tiny little bit). No, what really upsets me is that Iris Robinson tried to bury the bad news of her infidelity under the headline of "MP attempts suicide". To me, unless she's successful in her attempt, that's not really the story. The story is that Iris Robinson is not to be bloody trusted. To try and sneak that through under a wave of sympathy is disingenuous beyond belief.
Whether she actually tried to top herself or not isn't the point. Frankly, I'm willing to believe that she did. The point is: she put the suicide story out to soften the blow of unpleasant news; to limit the damage to the careers of herself and her husband. To try and score PR points from a suicide attempt is an insult to all of us who have suffered from non-politically expedient mental illnesses. And, frankly, the 'sin' of homosexuality pales in comparison to such cold calculating spin.
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