“Can you remember what you felt like when you walked through that door?” “No,” I blubber back. “You said you were feeling okay. It was just twenty minutes ago.” “I’m not okay,” I insist, through tears. “I’m not going to be okay.” It hadn’t been an easy day. I had a total meltdown over the… Continue reading Out of Sense, Out of Mind
8:00 a.m. – Breakfast 8:45 a.m. – Community Meeting 10:30 a.m. – Snack 11:00 a.m. – Group Therapy 11:45 a.m. – Lunch 1:00 p.m. – Visiting 2:00 p.m. – Activity Group 3:00 p.m. – Snack 4:30 p.m. – Walk (if approved by insurance and doctor) 5:45 p.m. – Dinner 7:00 p.m. – Visiting 8:30 p.m.… Continue reading Impatient Inpatient
“Here, everyone is an inappropriate admission. I don’t admit patients. I discharge them” – Psychiatrist, quoted in Rhodes, Emptying Beds. Before I had even met my treating psychiatrist, they were talking about my discharge. Someone from downstairs—that is, the part of the hospital that isn’t a locked psychiatric ward—came to tell me that I would… Continue reading One In, One Out
“He’s trying to figure out if he’s high or just psychotic,” I explain. I’m listening as a doctor a few feet down the hallway tells a middle aged man, “We’re worried that you’re hearing and seeing things that aren’t there, so you’re going to need to stay for a little bit.” I’m with a friend… Continue reading Auto-Ethnography
I haven’t blogged in a long time, thanks to a procrastination that my research in the mental health care system now allows me to label “apragmatism” (about which I am no longer “anosogosique”). Nonetheless, as twelve (12!) months of fieldwork in France comes to a close, I’ve been feeling an itch to write down some… Continue reading Mad Days 1: Souffrance Psychique
Perspective for those who observe mental illness, but for me, as a subject, this tree bore only dry and tasteless fruit. . . I have a chemical imbalance; I really didn’t feel those things. I have a chemical imbalance; I didn’t really experience those things. I have a chemical imbalance; I didn’t really think those… Continue reading Planes, Brains, and the Unexplained
The months tick upwards. I tried to write this as four months, rewrite it at five, post it at six. I wish I could say it was because I wanted to say everything perfectly, but it’s not. Life overtakes us, and promises we make glibly to ourselves—“I’ll think of her everyday”—are forgotten fast. She always… Continue reading You Are Here
