Here’s the link to the article in Mad in America by Phil Hickey:
Here’s my comment, as it is now, up on the site:
More fuel for the argument, Phil! Thank you!
I entered the tween stage, that is, 55-65, when we get to be halfway elderly and occasionally can take advantage of “senior discounts,” with a bang. I decided to use a slogan to describe my age: “55 and Alive!” Some seven months later, I experienced acute kidney failure. I am lucky to be alive today.
The psychiatric profession appears to be desperate to deceive patients and keep them in the dark about consequences, even if it means hiding important information regarding medical conditions from patients so that they will continue to comply. For years, my kidneys were running low, and I wasn’t told. When I arrived at an ER and I went into full code last August, a nurse blurted out to me that I was in kidney failure. I believe they hoped I wouldn’t recall this blunder. However, for whatever reason, I remember well. My electrolytes were so off at that point that it didn’t even register in my mind that I was near death. I was merely curious as to what would occur next. For over a month I’d been feeling like I was on a moving ship, or was the world just tilting back and forth the whole time?
I was up on the floor and I asked flat out what had happened. I repeated what I’d heard and they said, accusingly, “Who told you that?” as if it were a lie or my imagination. I was in the hospital 11 days. Every day, each morning, i was offered Abilify and I refused it. The doctor in charge finally told me if I didn’t take Zyrexa, he wouldn’t allow me to leave the hospital even if I was medically stable enough to leave. He’d pushed many antipsychotics on me, including Haldol, and i’d refused all of them. Their main goal, as far as I know, was to transfer me to a psych ward where I’d be started on the deconate, and court ordered to stay on it. I’m sure, had I refused, I would have been transferred to a state facility.
I told the doctor that I didn’t think Zyprexa was an appropriate medication for a person with anorexia nervosa. It had already been proven to be unhelpful for anorexia, and it’s not approved, either, as off-label use. I’d taken it before with disastrous results.
I learned that I’d gone into renal failure because the the day I went home free the discharge doc accidentally gave me papers I shouldn’t have had access to. I was alone late on Friday night when I found out I’d nearly died, and they never bothered to tell me.
I have a new slogan, “56 and Free.” I am lucky to be alive. My kidneys are roughly at 1/3 functioning. I know now that they were desperate to keep me from writing or speaking out about what happened.
Sorry, docs. I am a writer and my weapon is my pen. They were desperate to stop me even if they had to tell huge lies. You can stab yourself with a pen. But why do that, when you can put it to far more powerful use?
I love ya’ll, Julie Greene and her little dog, Puzzle
I put my Facebook account into suspension the other day, meaning that it is shut off for now. No one can see my posts and until I reopen the account, I am not on Facebook at all. I LOVE being off Facebook so far, though, so I really don’t think I’ll be back. I don’t miss it. Certainly not!
Yes, I met some cool people there. I figure a few of them are my friends. Those that want to stay friends will get in touch. As for those that don’t, I don’t think I would want to push the issue, would I? After all, a friendship should be mutual. Most of those folks I had never met and probably wouldn’t have ever had the chance to see face-to-face.
I have heard that many folks prefer it that way. They say they’d never want to get together with many of the folks that are their Facebook friends and they are grateful that there are miles of distance between them. What the heck is a friend, anyway? Don’t you agree that Facebook has surely distorted our view?
I feel tons better overall. I feel liberated. I feel free of it. I don’t miss it at all! Most of the people there that I had met were nice. What is Facebook but a medium for communication? I didn’t like that the format encouraged gang mentality. I saw over and over acquaintances of mine getting unbelievably harsh criticism. What’s worse, the whole world would chime in and beat on the person mercilessly.
We have seen enough of that type of thing. Gang mentality is what causes police to go nuts and kill innocent people. Looking back, I’ve seen these incidents of police brutality. Note carefully that these beatings or shootings aren’t done by one cop, but many acting like an angry mob. Mobs do lynchings and terrible hate crimes. Doesn’t the Bible state that there were mobs of people watching Jesus get crucified? How could anyone stand to watch, anyway? But when people target one person to scapegoat, somehow the “safety in numbers” makes it “okay” to participate or to go along with the mob.
On Facebook I see mobs, too. No, folks don’t kill or lynch or get drunk at the same bar and have a real-life brawl, but the gang mentality is there just the same.
I made up my mind that since I stink at PR anyway, I’d rather communicate via e-mail or phone. Privacy is important. I didn’t like the way I would message with one person, say, Person A, and then Person B would be innocent witness to it and decide that I suck.
And yet hardly anyone on there even spoke to me or met me in person! Many formed their opinions based on what others said, or based on some brief few sentences of text. Not one person heard the tone of voice intended. I didn’t hear anyone else’s tone of voice, either.
I learned something about that years ago. I think it was 1998 or 1999. I was part of an online group. Online life was different then. I posted something in praise of a person’s writing, and I guess the author of that piece decided that I didn’t mean what I was saying. The person assumed I was being sarcastic. I wasn’t! Not at all. I liked her piece a lot. But she went off in a huff. I didn’t know her and she didn’t know me, and I felt rather sad thinking that she’d felt hurt…but this was based on assumption…which was incorrect, after all.
We’ve all been through that sort of thing, have we not? Face-to-face communication is hard enough, but when it’s written, we don’t quite know how to read it. Even professional writers have this problem. I suppose this is why we fight over the meaning of various poems. or certain novels, and the Bible, too. We just don’t know for sure. However, the advantage of written communication is that you get to write it and then rewrite it before pressing “send.” Some folks prefer it that way.
I started on Facebook in 2009. I never really liked it anyway. Some people like it a lot. To me, it’s only a relief.
I spent some time looking over my music collection. I don’t have that much compared to many people. In the age of MP3 and electronic storage, nowadays you see folks ending up with gigantic collections that otherwise might have filled bookcases.
I scrolled at random. I put on “Become You, ” by Indigo Girls. I must be getting old.
I knew people who had been to IG concerts. Some said the experience changed their lives. I think that’s cool.
I remember IG being a lots more upbeat than they actually are. Funny…. they seem a lot darker than I remember. Ever try singing along? Most don’t do a very good job. I figure that’s because one person can’t be two.
I scrolled ahead to the song, “Collecting You.” All at once, I began to cry.
The year? 2005. I played IG over and over while working out at the gym. I remember hating my body and not having any understanding as to why my weight had doubled in five years. I literally wanted to grab a pair of scissors and cut off the fat. One day I was surfing the net (we called it that back then) and read that many others had had similar experiences with the drug Seroquel. I was one of thousands. I looked up my dose. 900.
So that was why…. This was a ridiculously high dose. Why had I been put on that much?
I had been at Newton-Wellesley hospital when they started jacking up the dose. In fall 2000 , I was raised to 600. This was the beginning of rapid weight gain.
I was rather heavy already when I began grad school. I remember feeling ashamed and inadequate. It was tough to concentrate on school. I wanted to lose weight and I remember thinking a lot more about weight loss than about writing. I got by, barely.
Joe, my beloved boyfriend, had been dead less than a year when I started grad school. I kept asking myself what on earth he would say if he saw me like this. I could only imagine. “Jules, what happened? ”
I remember once Joe asked me if it hurt to have periods. I told him that there wasn’t, in fact, a wound that was bleeding. I said that sometimes I could feel it coming out, but most times, I didn’t think about it much. I had to think about it a little, though, otherwise my clothes would get stained. I told him I felt a little bit of cramping now and then. “It’s like a diarrhea feeling,” I told him. “Only the cramps are in a different place.” He said he felt sorry for me, and often said he wished he had the power to make the pain go away. I told him it didn’t bother me much and not to worry.
A woman’s body was this fascinating mystery to Joe. I was glad he asked, instead of assuming that all females are alike, the way some people do. Once, he said to me that he liked that no two people were the same. No two people saw the world the same and we have different bodies.
In 2004, I had to stop grad school. I ended up in a mental ward, in fact, it was Newton-Wellesley again. I remember the shrink there on the ward. She was an older woman who had blonde hair and an accent. I can’t recall if it was Dutch or German. She was the one who raised my Seroquel to 900.
It was my last day on the ward. She asked me if I needed a new prescription for Seroquel. I was on 800. She said to me the following, “It will be easier to take three 300 size pills than try to mix and match to add up to 800. Why don’t I give you 900 instead?” From then on, I willingly took 900 mgs of Seroquel, having no clue what was causing further weight gain. My outside shrink, Dr Pearson, gave me a “diet and exercise” lecture a few times. My therapist, Dr Louise Ryder, told me I should accept my body. I thought that this was only a useless platitude that most likely she told all her patients.
I went to the gym and listened to Indigo Girls. I hated being the fat girl at the gym. The one who “tries hard, but….” And so on.
I had a male friend who lived in another city. He was super nice. We didn’t stay friends long, though. I remember he had a doctor he liked a lot. He trusted that doctor far too much. I trusted mine too much, too. His shrink talked him into popping Risperdal like it was candy. He was taking double the maximum dose. Both our shrinks encouraged using Risperdal as a PRN for anxiety. I took these pills when my doctor told me to, but I didn’t notice any significant calming effect nor did they do much at all except give me side effects.
My friendship with J ended abruptly. He called me one day and told me he was too sick with bipolar “mixed” to go on with things the way they were. He said he never wanted to speak to me again.
I felt like throwing things or punching a pillow. I had lost a good buddy.
I was back in grad school now, and finally off Seroquel. Puzzle had just come into my life. I felt sad about losing my friend.
I didn’t listen to IG after that. Until a bit ago. I didn’t want to be reminded. So I shut off the music. I didn’t even finish listening to “Collecting You.”
Since 2008 I have suffered from anorexia nervosa. It was a backlash from Seroquel. I had had anorexia before.
I had a different therapist. One day she asked me what Joe would say if he saw me emaciated like that.
I think Joe would cry over all that has happened to my body. Does it hurt? Yeah, it does.
I try to laugh as much as possible. It makes it easier.
I made this a month ago! It was originally a video, but it seemed that the audio and video didn’t line up properly. Rather than fuss with it, I decided to convert it to “audio only” and post to Spreaker.
With quite a bit of effort I finally got the Spreaker post up on You-Tube, and from there, to here.
I like that on the video I smile and laugh a lot. I’m not sure if you can tell in this audio that I was cheerful and felt uplifted. Surely, a year ago I didn’t look happy at all! Times have changed.
Here’s the link. I hope I do this properly!
This was so cute. I tried to be sneaky so Puzzle wouldn’t get alarmed or change position. I haven’t used the net here in this apartment form the most part. But a few days ago a couple of mosquitoes came in, so I decided to put the net up at night.
Puzzle got groomed recently. Her hair grew back fast! Sometimes when she gets it cut it stays short for a long time. Someone once told me that with some breeds, hair grows faster in certain types of weather. Some breeds shed like mad in the fall or spring. Puzzle doesn’t shed. She gets raggedy, though.
I heard the weather was gonna be decent today, and all week, too. I want to go to the ice cream place some evening. This seems to be a decent spot to enjoy sitting outdoors. I can bring Puzzle, and a notebook and pencils so I can write if I want.
I am enjoying working on writing my book. I like what I have so far. I kinda surprised myself, too. The focus isn’t what I had planned. I suppose all of life is like that.
Plan B suits me fine. Plan A was only the rough draft, after all.
People have many reasons for wanting to rid themselves of their Facebook accounts. I’ve been looking into this for a while.
I have privacy concerns. What I know is that if a person is ever being looked into by police, this is the first place they go. Of course, police access to Facebook is good and bad. It’s good if you are victim of a crime or were in an accident. Facebook can probably be used in court. Say you took a drive to a nearby town, logged into Facebook to leave a quick message for a friend, and then ended up at a bar and something yucky happens. Police can use your Facebook account to locate you and maybe send assistance. If you are being harassed by a former spouse, former lover, former doctor, ex-roommate, person you did business with and it turned sour…etc….Well, if it ever got extremely nasty, the evidence is all there. I believe the courts take Facebook activity seriously. So this is the “good” in police access.
On the other hand, police aren’t all that honest. I know of people who have such privileges to peek at Facebook accounts because they work for police. I’ve seen these folks ask pals and relatives, “Whom do you want me to get the dirt on?”
We know that police are the right arm of psychiatry. If your shrink decides, arbitrarily (or for revenge) that you are “dangerous,” this opens access to any social media you have. You are a playing field, and the players aren’t nice.
Employers take advantage, too, as do future employers. Even with your privacy setting strictly set, they have ways of getting in to “check” on you. Don’t tell me this doesn’t happen!
I know people who use fake names on Facebook so when they are seeking a job or looking for new housing, they aren’t checked up on via Facebook. Using a fake name is against Facebook policy, though. Of course, lots of folks do it anyway.
As for closing an account, you have two options. A simple search engine search will tell you this.
You can suspend your account of put it on hold. This is called “deactivation.” It’s instant. To undo, all you have to do is to log in. While you are deactivated, your account is there but not visible. That I know of, no one can access it. Including you. I have no clue if anyone can do anything sneaky to get hold of it during suspension. However, your PM’s are permanent no matter what. There’s some policy regarding “groups” but I dunno what that is.
If you delete your account, all those wonderful photos and contact information and every single brilliant thing you said is deleted. This is permanent. However, it’s not something you can do instantly, so if that Big Job Interview is tomorrow, you’re better off going with the “deactivation” route.
My reasons for getting off Facebook seem like good ones to me. I got on Facebook in 2009 because I heard it was a good way to stay in touch with my friends from grad school. Indeed, it is, plus I have met new people coming into Goddard and can communicate with them, wish them well, and congratulate them when they make it to graduation.
However, I gathered a bunch of friends and all too often, it got nasty. It’s been nasty for a while. When my anorexia returned I guess a bunch of folks found it offensive in some way. Because I was on Facebook I saw many former friends pull away.
Then, I left “mental health.” What happened? All those folks that thought, “Treatment is great,” decided Julie was “dangerous” and “against recovery.” Neither. So I really was made into an outcast.
Honestly, I think both of the above were cruel and unnecessary. There were so many accusations. Rumors spread. Julie must be paranoid, Julie’s a bitch, etc.
Everyone says bitchy things now and then. A friend will forgive. A friend will understand, or make effort to do so. I was thinking a lot of folks were friends, but weren’t. Facebook can fool ya like that.
I was subject to all kinds of nastiness on there.
As for antipsychiatry, many feel the way I do. I am not alone, and these aren’t “bizarre beliefs.” You can read many scholarly books, all sorts of magazine articles, and even go to large conferences where folks actually want to DO SOMETHING to improve the status quo. It’s so sad that I’ve been labeled some sort of “danger.”
I think people should educate themselves and realize that I am a member of a large and growing movement. Antipsychiatry has been around for decades, and is here to stay. We aren’t just a bunch of disgruntled mental patients. Many are former shrinks who got fed up. Among us are doctors, scientists, lawyers, artists, students, parents, politicians. There are folks busy in the workforce, retired, or taking a break. It’s sad that I got discredited when really, that never should have happened.
I was getting more and more fed up. It wasn’t just the petty insults, and ganging up type behavior. You see many people getting slammed on Facebook. I am certainly not alone here and I have seen when one person becomes targeted and the crowds chime in to beat that person to a pulp. We’ve all seen this. Either it happens to us, or to someone we know.
As for the “friending” bit, well, I am happy that Facebook allowed me to meet some really terrific folks I wouldn’t have otherwise known about. That’s cool, eh?
It also means you can get unfriended, blocked, or hidden. That’s everyone’s right to do this, of course. Privacy is a serious matter. People have their reasons, and we cannot assume it’s necessarily because they don’t like us, or because of something we did.
When people “disappeared,” I’d wonder if I’d been unfriended. Many times, what had happened was that they had login problems and their account was temporarily suspended. They’d be back and say, “Whew! I couldn’t get on for a week! Hope you didn’t worry.” Many people had trouble with Internet access, or they didn’t get notified, or they were taking a Facebook break. People disappear for so many reasons. We cannot take it personally.
However, I couldn’t help but feel like total crap when I noticed recently that tons of people defriended all at once. I’d say maybe 15. I will most likely never know why, really, since in most cases, they quietly slipped away without even letting me know. I know some made their posts hidden from me, others unfriended, others blocked, others made my posts invisible to them.
Facebook will tell you that if you unfriend someone, that person isn’t going to know. Baloney. It doesn’t take much to figure it out. It leaves me asking, “What have i said? I never spoke aloud to this person. They don’t know me. And yet, I’m suddenly the evil bad guy. Hmm.
I got so sick of it that I put my account into suspension. I think this is a good move. We’ll see.
I got tired of saying to myself that the people on there were the end -all. My real friends pick up the phone. My real friends speak to me. If they liked me as much as they claimed…well, no, they didn’t. I am done with folks that assume I am nuts. I am done without people being hateful. I am especially done with defriending. Those that were my friends still are. The fake ones can go to hell.
Bye bye all the shit that happened to me.
Bye bye hateful Facebook.
Bye bye Massachusetts.
Bye bye shrinks!
Bye bye USA.
Bye bye. Bye bye.
Fake friends no more!
What’s left? The best of life. See you later.
Guess that’s all I want to say. Disappointed. Disillusioned. Shocked. Floored. Devastated.
I love Puzzle cuz she is kind and loving. I love Puzzle because she looks at me and knows I am a good person. She’s doesn’t care about rumors.
I need to hold onto Puzzle for dear life right now.