LOL Eleanor I agree, they are not ALL bad. I know there exist a great many who are very good, and that is the same in any profession, there are some that are really, really bad and some are really, really good, and a lot of them are in the middle.
Just in my case I have been unlucky enough to get a lot of really, really bad ones, in the mental health area, and I've also found that in highly educated people "with letters after their names" lol, the more highly educated they are (this includes regular doctors as well as psych ones) the less of a bedside manner they seem to have!
This in and of itself does not mean they are bad--in fact they are often excellent at what they do. It's like they have spent so much time in academia that they have forgotten how to interact with people!
As an example, my neuro-opthamologist (you can't get much more specialized than that) who is good at what he does, and unlike some I have no issues with. The first time I went, it was due to an opthomologist finding that my optic nerves were unusual. His fellow came in first and talked to me, and looked at my eyes.
He says to me, your optic nerves are failing. I'm thinking, oh my God, am I going blind? Now, error in judgment on the part of the fellow, true. But my dr. comes in, this is my first time meeting the guy, and he spends the first 10 minutes talking to his fellow about me as though I am not even there, as I panic more and more. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME????? He doesn't know and is quite puzzled, then all of a sudden a light goes on and he says, still to the fellow, I think I know what it is. It's dreusen.
Now here I am all this time after having been told my optic nerves are failing, knowing they are already abnormal.
So he finally gets around to his diagnosis, and says, oh nothing to worry about. I didn't really understand what the heck it meant at the time, nor did he really explain it. Now I do, although I really don't know what they are, dreusen usually occur in the elderly, it's something that occurs over time. They have been explained to me as like tiny little crystals, it makes my optic nerves look different. But I was too young to have that. Except in my case it is congenital, which is unusual. But I still do not know exactly what they are, why I have them, what they do, or anything else. But, most importantly, he could have saved me a lot of terror and grief had he actually spoken to ME.
He nonetheless did a number of tests and an MRI on my eyes. And I was supposed to come in once a year for a check up because my visual field tests were markedly abnormal, which he said, could be a birth defect but since we don't know that for sure, we need to make sure it is not changing or getting worse (this is an entirely different birth defect). So, good doctor, but his bedside manner could be improved.
But, my mental health experiences were unfortunately not nearly so innocuous.
As for why I gave that much power away to people who were ignorant, sad to say, but I didn't because they had it already. I was a teenage girl and they at that time were the only help available to me. I desperately needed help, so I took the only route I could take, because the alternative at the time was death and a life so intolerable I only made it from one day to the next by some miracle.
My family re-enforced everything they had to say, because it was easier than facing up to their problems, and I had always been a convenient scapegoat. And they believed what my family had to say, what I had to say, even if I had known how at that time, which I didn't, would not have made any difference to their beliefs or my family's. I look back now and it seems utterly crazy to me. They didn't even know my dad was going around the house with an axe, just this close to killing us all, using it obliterate objects around the house and threatening us with it . How could they not know?
Ignorant doesn't even begin to describe what they were. The kicker? They eventually kicked me out as my mental state deteriorated between that and being in an abusive relationship with my daughter's father, citing that I was having a negative impact on other people in the waiting area, that I was self injuring, and that I got less and less communicative and more and more dissociative. Gee, I wonder why... They never even asked if there was a reason for the changes in me!
So to cover their ass they sent me to "reproductive mental health", I went once and they were clearly sicker than I was, I never went back. I am pretty sure that one visit came to bite me later though, because I was supposed to be conscious during my daughter's birth and while fortunately I was able to remember the main parts whatever drug(s) they gave me knocked me so flat that not only was the birth a blur, but they gave the baby to me right after, they don't do anything for you any more once you give birth. So for the next 24 hours, I had my daughter with me in my hospital bed, as I lost consciousness suddenly, over and over again, I'd wake up, realize what happened, then I'd lose consciousness again. Happened constantly the whole day after my surgery, and yet I was supposed to be caring for a helpless infant? All I was supposed to get was anaesthesia.
This is just the tiniest fragment, there is ever so much more.
This is why I choose as an adult to find help for myself elsewhere--which, when I was younger, I did as soon as I figured out there was somewhere else for me to go. But that was not until I started seeing my last therapist, the one I was with for 14 years, which was prior to my daughter's birth and after this fiasco.
I won't allow any one to label me any more--because, as an adult, I do have that choice.