Anxiety, Medicine, Mental Health, Stigma

Am I Insane?

I ask myself over and over again, “Am I insane? Am I crazy? Am I unstable?” As strange as it sounds, I am haunted by myself. The thoughts that run like obsessions through my mind and my gradual estrangement from ‘normality’ make me question my sanity. I often scare myself so much so that I cower away in the corner of my room and keep repeating to myself prescriptively “I’m ok, I’m ok, I’m normal, I’m ok,” rocking back and forth as comfort, in my attempt to convince myself that I am not insane. Counterproductive? Maybe.

There are a few reasons why I often feel as if I’m going insane. The first has to be my constant struggles with suicidal thoughts. Every day, they creep up on me insidiously, especially when I am alone, and they keep getting stronger and stronger, until they develop into well-thought out plans. The temptation to implement the plans becomes unavoidable, and just as I am about to do it, I stop. I re-think and play devil’s advocate. I think about my family and friends. I think about the knock-on effects. I step back. Then it happens all over again, like a video on repeat.

The thoughts and planning tire me out so much, that I feel completely exhausted. It’s as if I am constantly fighting myself, and it takes its toll. It disrupts my normal concentration, I always feel drowsy and weak, and my motivation drops even more than it’s normally low level. Often after these episodes, when I just about avert the implementation of my suicidal ideation, I break down completely.

With severe depression and anxiety also comes increased irritability and mood swings. I often lash out at the people closest to me, for the smallest reasons. I may say some hurtful things without thinking, and I immediately regret doing so. I apologise, but we can never take our words back, and I feel even more angry at myself for being so incompetent. I just feel as if I am no longer in control of myself. I don’t know how I will react, I don’t know where my thoughts will take me, I can’t do anything that anyone expects of me, I can’t even predict if I’ll still be around a few hours later, or if I’ll end up taking my life before then.

Although not as bad as some sufferers, I have had brief episodes of auditory and visual psychosis in the past which terrified me and made me more convinced that I had essentially ‘gone mad’. It’s scary because sometimes I no longer know if something is real or if I’m just imagining it. This haunts me for sure.

What doesn’t help is also being made to feel alienated because of my mental health. I don’t like being branded or being treated differently, because it makes me feel abnormal. The stigma in society relating to mental health problems is what fuels this alienation. I am lucky to have friends who do their best to treat me like myself whilst being sensitive at the same time. It makes a massive difference to not be shunned but understood. But of course, not everyone is like that. My friends are all medical students which make them naturally compassionate and understanding compared to the rest of the population.

Today, I was at my Medical Ethics and Law lecture on the Mental Health Act 1983, and we were taught that patients with ‘mental disorders’, such as schizophrenia, depression, anxiety, personality disorders, etc, are not to be considered competent of making their own medical decisions, and may need to be ‘sectioned’ if they are deemed to be inappropriately refusing treatment. Reading this made me feel as if I was an incapable outcast. Although I am depressed and anxious, I would always want to have the right to decide what happens to me, even if it doesn’t quite synchronise with the widely accepted definition of ‘my best interests’. I strongly feel that should I be in the position where I need to make a medical decision for myself, I am able to understand both sides, know the consequences of my actions and am prepared to take any risks with either opting or refusing certain treatment. Basically, I still have competence. To be stripped of that right simply because of my mental health state seems wrong to me.

Maybe I am insane. Or maybe we should re-define insanity.

 

Please note: If you are feeling low or thinking about suicide, please contact the Samaritans helpline on 116 123. They are open at all times and are there to listen.

Mental Health, Reality, Sexual abuse, Stigma

“Boys don’t cry”

It is a well-known stereotype that ‘masculinity’ encompasses the criterion of being ‘emotionally resilient’, and thus it is misconceived that seeing a man crying is effeminate. Society has an expectation of men to be ‘strong’, funny and void of low moods. We also use phrases like, ‘stop crying like a girl’, which is frankly demeaning to both sexes. But until we stop feeding these stereotypes, a safe space for men’s mental health cannot be created.

My youngest sister is three years old and a few days ago, she came back from nursery and said to me, “boys don’t cry”. I was quite shocked. If anything, at home, my middle sister and I try our best to negate any societal stereotypes and challenge them – we never automatically opted for pink clothes for her just because she is a girl, we never stopped taking her to the car and robots section of ToysRus simply because they were boys’ toys. In fact, we encouraged her to play with a football and her cars, alongside her dolls and toy kitchen set. So to hear something like that from her took me aback.

That day, I realised how much this stereotype is really ingrained in our society. I presumed that this was an idea that she picked up from her peers at school, and children always learn from adults. Clearly, if we don’t change the way we think and act, children will only follow in our footsteps and reinforce the stereotypes, albeit subconsciously. It took me a lot of convincing to persuade my sister to believe that boys can cry too. She insisted that it was a ‘girly’ thing to cry.

Unfortunately, the large majority of men feel ashamed to open up about their mental health because of the expectation of them to be so ‘resilient’. Some of my closest male friends have divulged that it’s embarrassing to talk about it, so they often keep quiet and that leads to not being able to seek help. According to statistics, males are 3.5 times more likely then females to commit suicide. There is a shocking number of domestic violence incidents against men by women, but this is very hardly advertised. It is estimated that depression rates are much higher amongst the male population than the statistics suggest because most of them never talk about it or seek help. Sexual abuse is another topic that we never really much about from men – not because the incidence of sexual abuse amongst men is very little, but because of the strong stigma attached to it. We instinctively think of women as the victims when we think of sexual abuse, but I have personally heard some disturbing stories from men regarding their experiences of sexual abuse.

Whatever sex a person may be, it should never be shameful to talk about mental health issues. We need to stop indulging in the roles set by society for men and women and start accepting that everyone is human, and it is only human to cry, to be depressed or have any other mental health issues. Violence and abuse are not exclusively carried out by men, and we need to stop generalising behaviours and assigning them to a certain sex. There is no shame in talking about these difficult issues, for men or women, and we can overcome the taboo by opening up and opening the eyes of everyone else around us.