Because honestly, I've asked psychiatrists, psychologists, and explained this to a lot of people online and a few in real life ... and I get no closer to even understanding it myself. And this thing, in and of itself, is destroying me.
In 2012, I went to a psychiatrist because I was depressed, had anxiety attacks, and was very upset after a frightening workplace incident (death threats). And I had a really bad childhood, my father was violently abusive, extremely controlling, and completely isolated us from the outside world - I have described it to many people like growing up in a North Korean gulag. My father threated me with guns, the death threat in 2012 involved guns. I snapped.
So, I found a psychiatrist through a hosptial referal website, and selected that individual based on proximity, availability, and did NOT do my due diligence. Because I honestly expected it to be "no big deal" - I went in expecting a couple of prescriptions to calm my nerves, probably a referall to a therapist which I probably wasn't gonna do at that time, and "see me in 2 weeks" or whatever.
That isn't what transpired. I told the truth, that I had very frequent, pretty graphic suicidal thoughts and imagery. I also said, very truthfully, that I had no intention of acting on it, either on the spot or in the imminent future, and finally, made the statement that I was there because I "couldn't live like this any more." By that, I meant exactly this - I just wanted some help to get over that hump so I could find the motivation and drive to fix all of the structural problems in my life, relationships, career issues, health, etc.
Well, what I thought I was going to get was compassionate, supportive care. That is not at all what I got - I got the "iron fist" and it destroyed my world in an instant. I was told to go immediately to an ER and admit myself to a psych ward because I had these suicidal thoughts. I guess I was naive, and probably should have known better, but I was just being truthful and I saw no "imminent danger to self" situation whatsoever - I was there stating "I want to improve my life" not "I want to end it."
As far as I am concerned, it was a "cover my ass" decision on the physician's part - and I did plead for about an hour NOT to do that to me - I said I would ONLY do outpatient treatment, and that it had to be extremely hush-hush. NOT TO BE - I was told that if I wouldn't voluntarily admit myself inpatient, that a "compromise" would be acceptable - I could do a PHP as soon as I could get into it. And the physician gave me a 36 hour ultimatum to decided that I would do it - backed up, at least in my mind, with the implicit threat that, if I said "no" I would get a knock on the door at home at 3 am or at my office in a big professional building in a busy town from the police who would stuff me in the back of a squad car and carry me off against my will - a public specatcle that would be impossible to deny or cover up or ever recover from.
So I spent the most abjectly miserable night of my entire life pondering what to do - from suicide to flight across a border to fighting it in the legal system to giving in and doing it as discretely as possible. And that was what I did - I caved, I abjectly surrendered, and I agreed to do it.
And, not only was that bad enough - but it took almost a MONTH to even get into the stupid thing. According to this doctor, I was such an imminent danger to myself that I had to go straight to the psych ward via the ER - but it was perfectly OK with this doctor that I wander the streets for a MONTH unsupervised until I could start this god-foresaken day hospital program for 10 days. And during that time, I saw this doctor ONCE about two weeks after the initial time, and then again three days before starting the day hospital program.
Also, please be cognizant of this fact - my presenting symptoms were massive panic attacks - that is what had me down for the count, not depression or suicidal thoughts - those were NOT new things in my life, I had had all of that for years, but put on the stiff upper lip and carried on anyway. But the panic attacks were new, and horrible. When I went in that office, I was expecting a couple of prescriptions, anti-anxiety and depression meds. I was given NOTHING until the second appointment almost a month later -- when I was put on ONE thing, a starter dose, 25 mgs, of Lamictal. THIS FACT ALONE INFURIATES ME for several reasons - I needed meds that would have helped, but I didn't get those. And, I'm sure many of you know, Lamictal takes a couple of months to get up to a full therapeutic dose and effect (btw, it had NO effect on my state of mind, nada, but did cause some pretty serious physical side effects including low red cell count and a tremor). LATER, after the fact, I ordered my entire medical record from the hospital, and found one outright lie in it on the part of the doctor/hospital - it stated one of the rationales for my admission into a PHP was because I "failed to respond to outpatient pharmacology" - just remember, I started taking Lamictal at 25 mgs FOUR DAYS before I was admitted. And little wonder I wasn't doing cartwheels of joy by Day Four, huh??? Very bitter about this lie to this day.
Here is the crux of the matter - I feel MASSIVELY ASHAMED of having any kind of MH diagnosis. I feel like I HAVE TO keep it a "state secret" because my personal and professional reputation will be ruined 1) my diagnosis and 2) my admission to a PHP became widely known. I feel like I was railroaded. I feel weak for caving and not fighting.
SO MANY people, professionals, people on other forums, a very few people in real life who know some of the story, have told me ad nauseum things like:
1) It's nothing to be ashamed of - we all have baggage/problems/issues
2) Your medical records are completely safe and confidential
3) It's a medical condition, not a moral problem or a character flaw
4) It was outpatient and voluntary
5) No legal ramifications to your rights.
You know, all of the standard comments.
The problem is .... Intellectually, my rational/logical mind KNOWS all of the above to be true....
HOWEVER, emotionally, I cannot escape the opposite - my truths are that:
1) I am deeply, hopelessly ashamed. I told several doctors, therapists, and the one or two very close friends who know what happened that I feel that "what I did" - have a slow-mo nervous breakdown to the point of getting sent to a psychiatric program - makes me feel just as horrible about myself as if I had killed someone or robbed someone at gunpoint.
2) HIPPA, medical privacy .... bunk. Nothing is ever truly secure - there are data breaches, improper handling of files (like when you hear on the news about medical records being found in dumpsters, etc), snooping spying people. And of course, there is also the legitimate (albeit one in a billion chance) that someone's medical records could be obtained legally through subpoena in an adversarial proceeding of some type. So I am VERY paranoid that there is "dirt out there on me just waiting to be dug up."
3) It feels absolutely like a moral failing and character flaw - from the fact that I was so weak I had panic attacks, suicidial thoughts, etc, in the first place, to the fact I caved and gave in and did the PHP because I was afraid not to, to the BIGGEST one, which is that I came from this societal/cultural WASP upper middle class tradition of "you stay squeaky clean, show your love for God, Flag, and Family, be a responsible and productive member of society and if you have dirty laundry you NEVER EVER EVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES AIR IT IN PUBLIC" - instead, you bury the skeletons deep deep deep as you possibly can, and IMAGE is more important than reality, IMAGE is everything. And if you transgress and break those rules, you are OUTTA HERE.
4) It was technically outpatient - yeah, no locked doors, 9-3:30 M-F, but it sure felt like being locked up to me - one thing was I couldn't just leave AMA or it would have been outrageously expensive out of pocket, I guess. AND also, there was NOTHING voluntary about it - I did it ONLY because I felt completely trapped, I hated and feared every minute of it, and it was horrible, sad, tragic, and the entire thing left me feeling very brutalized and extremely destroyed.
5) Sure, not on paper. Except for some theoretical gun rights at this time I have no personal interest in (in my state, I couldn't get a CCW, for example). But still, it makes me feel "less equal" now. And, worse, I worry A LOT about what COULD happen to me - for example, if I ever admitted suicidal thoughts in the real world again (not stupid enough to EVER do that), would they literally lock me up this time.
I CANNOT integrate the rational truths, which is that my fears are based in paranoia/hypervigilance and NOT valid, with the emotions I feel about this - which are just that, extreme paranoia, fear, anxiety, that I'm some kind of hunted fugitive just waiting to be found out and hauled in to be locked up.
The old Freud joke "A cigar is never just a cigar" comes to mind - I FEEL that this is NOT really about the MH history and situation, but that it MUST be about something deeper, from my childhood, upbringing, relationship with my father ... but what? My conscious mind hates him, resents him, feels horribly betrayed and hurt, but on some level, could it be fear of disapproval from a man who HATED me and never approved of anything I did .. and this is like some confirmation that he was "right about me" that I am a loser and can never get his love and approval (mind you, he's been dead almost 20 years).
Maybe someone here has some thoughts on this that might help? Because I'm at my whits end, and whenever it seems to get a little better, it just ends up coming full circle again after something triggers me.
In 2012, I went to a psychiatrist because I was depressed, had anxiety attacks, and was very upset after a frightening workplace incident (death threats). And I had a really bad childhood, my father was violently abusive, extremely controlling, and completely isolated us from the outside world - I have described it to many people like growing up in a North Korean gulag. My father threated me with guns, the death threat in 2012 involved guns. I snapped.
So, I found a psychiatrist through a hosptial referal website, and selected that individual based on proximity, availability, and did NOT do my due diligence. Because I honestly expected it to be "no big deal" - I went in expecting a couple of prescriptions to calm my nerves, probably a referall to a therapist which I probably wasn't gonna do at that time, and "see me in 2 weeks" or whatever.
That isn't what transpired. I told the truth, that I had very frequent, pretty graphic suicidal thoughts and imagery. I also said, very truthfully, that I had no intention of acting on it, either on the spot or in the imminent future, and finally, made the statement that I was there because I "couldn't live like this any more." By that, I meant exactly this - I just wanted some help to get over that hump so I could find the motivation and drive to fix all of the structural problems in my life, relationships, career issues, health, etc.
Well, what I thought I was going to get was compassionate, supportive care. That is not at all what I got - I got the "iron fist" and it destroyed my world in an instant. I was told to go immediately to an ER and admit myself to a psych ward because I had these suicidal thoughts. I guess I was naive, and probably should have known better, but I was just being truthful and I saw no "imminent danger to self" situation whatsoever - I was there stating "I want to improve my life" not "I want to end it."
As far as I am concerned, it was a "cover my ass" decision on the physician's part - and I did plead for about an hour NOT to do that to me - I said I would ONLY do outpatient treatment, and that it had to be extremely hush-hush. NOT TO BE - I was told that if I wouldn't voluntarily admit myself inpatient, that a "compromise" would be acceptable - I could do a PHP as soon as I could get into it. And the physician gave me a 36 hour ultimatum to decided that I would do it - backed up, at least in my mind, with the implicit threat that, if I said "no" I would get a knock on the door at home at 3 am or at my office in a big professional building in a busy town from the police who would stuff me in the back of a squad car and carry me off against my will - a public specatcle that would be impossible to deny or cover up or ever recover from.
So I spent the most abjectly miserable night of my entire life pondering what to do - from suicide to flight across a border to fighting it in the legal system to giving in and doing it as discretely as possible. And that was what I did - I caved, I abjectly surrendered, and I agreed to do it.
And, not only was that bad enough - but it took almost a MONTH to even get into the stupid thing. According to this doctor, I was such an imminent danger to myself that I had to go straight to the psych ward via the ER - but it was perfectly OK with this doctor that I wander the streets for a MONTH unsupervised until I could start this god-foresaken day hospital program for 10 days. And during that time, I saw this doctor ONCE about two weeks after the initial time, and then again three days before starting the day hospital program.
Also, please be cognizant of this fact - my presenting symptoms were massive panic attacks - that is what had me down for the count, not depression or suicidal thoughts - those were NOT new things in my life, I had had all of that for years, but put on the stiff upper lip and carried on anyway. But the panic attacks were new, and horrible. When I went in that office, I was expecting a couple of prescriptions, anti-anxiety and depression meds. I was given NOTHING until the second appointment almost a month later -- when I was put on ONE thing, a starter dose, 25 mgs, of Lamictal. THIS FACT ALONE INFURIATES ME for several reasons - I needed meds that would have helped, but I didn't get those. And, I'm sure many of you know, Lamictal takes a couple of months to get up to a full therapeutic dose and effect (btw, it had NO effect on my state of mind, nada, but did cause some pretty serious physical side effects including low red cell count and a tremor). LATER, after the fact, I ordered my entire medical record from the hospital, and found one outright lie in it on the part of the doctor/hospital - it stated one of the rationales for my admission into a PHP was because I "failed to respond to outpatient pharmacology" - just remember, I started taking Lamictal at 25 mgs FOUR DAYS before I was admitted. And little wonder I wasn't doing cartwheels of joy by Day Four, huh??? Very bitter about this lie to this day.
Here is the crux of the matter - I feel MASSIVELY ASHAMED of having any kind of MH diagnosis. I feel like I HAVE TO keep it a "state secret" because my personal and professional reputation will be ruined 1) my diagnosis and 2) my admission to a PHP became widely known. I feel like I was railroaded. I feel weak for caving and not fighting.
SO MANY people, professionals, people on other forums, a very few people in real life who know some of the story, have told me ad nauseum things like:
1) It's nothing to be ashamed of - we all have baggage/problems/issues
2) Your medical records are completely safe and confidential
3) It's a medical condition, not a moral problem or a character flaw
4) It was outpatient and voluntary
5) No legal ramifications to your rights.
You know, all of the standard comments.
The problem is .... Intellectually, my rational/logical mind KNOWS all of the above to be true....
HOWEVER, emotionally, I cannot escape the opposite - my truths are that:
1) I am deeply, hopelessly ashamed. I told several doctors, therapists, and the one or two very close friends who know what happened that I feel that "what I did" - have a slow-mo nervous breakdown to the point of getting sent to a psychiatric program - makes me feel just as horrible about myself as if I had killed someone or robbed someone at gunpoint.
2) HIPPA, medical privacy .... bunk. Nothing is ever truly secure - there are data breaches, improper handling of files (like when you hear on the news about medical records being found in dumpsters, etc), snooping spying people. And of course, there is also the legitimate (albeit one in a billion chance) that someone's medical records could be obtained legally through subpoena in an adversarial proceeding of some type. So I am VERY paranoid that there is "dirt out there on me just waiting to be dug up."
3) It feels absolutely like a moral failing and character flaw - from the fact that I was so weak I had panic attacks, suicidial thoughts, etc, in the first place, to the fact I caved and gave in and did the PHP because I was afraid not to, to the BIGGEST one, which is that I came from this societal/cultural WASP upper middle class tradition of "you stay squeaky clean, show your love for God, Flag, and Family, be a responsible and productive member of society and if you have dirty laundry you NEVER EVER EVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES AIR IT IN PUBLIC" - instead, you bury the skeletons deep deep deep as you possibly can, and IMAGE is more important than reality, IMAGE is everything. And if you transgress and break those rules, you are OUTTA HERE.
4) It was technically outpatient - yeah, no locked doors, 9-3:30 M-F, but it sure felt like being locked up to me - one thing was I couldn't just leave AMA or it would have been outrageously expensive out of pocket, I guess. AND also, there was NOTHING voluntary about it - I did it ONLY because I felt completely trapped, I hated and feared every minute of it, and it was horrible, sad, tragic, and the entire thing left me feeling very brutalized and extremely destroyed.
5) Sure, not on paper. Except for some theoretical gun rights at this time I have no personal interest in (in my state, I couldn't get a CCW, for example). But still, it makes me feel "less equal" now. And, worse, I worry A LOT about what COULD happen to me - for example, if I ever admitted suicidal thoughts in the real world again (not stupid enough to EVER do that), would they literally lock me up this time.
I CANNOT integrate the rational truths, which is that my fears are based in paranoia/hypervigilance and NOT valid, with the emotions I feel about this - which are just that, extreme paranoia, fear, anxiety, that I'm some kind of hunted fugitive just waiting to be found out and hauled in to be locked up.
The old Freud joke "A cigar is never just a cigar" comes to mind - I FEEL that this is NOT really about the MH history and situation, but that it MUST be about something deeper, from my childhood, upbringing, relationship with my father ... but what? My conscious mind hates him, resents him, feels horribly betrayed and hurt, but on some level, could it be fear of disapproval from a man who HATED me and never approved of anything I did .. and this is like some confirmation that he was "right about me" that I am a loser and can never get his love and approval (mind you, he's been dead almost 20 years).
Maybe someone here has some thoughts on this that might help? Because I'm at my whits end, and whenever it seems to get a little better, it just ends up coming full circle again after something triggers me.
