WillSpirit!

Where Will meets Spirit
∞ Love, Clarity, Balance, Peace, & Bliss ∞

A science, mental health and spirituality blog written by a physician.








  • Red_Exclamation_DotDisclaimer
    • Dear Visitors:
      Although I trained and practiced as a physician, my background does not include formal instruction in psychiatry beyond basic medical education. This journal presents ideas about treatment philosophy, but must not be considered therapeutic advice. Abrupt changes in one's psychiatric medications can trigger profound cognitive, emotional, and physical symptoms, including suicidal thoughts and actions. Consequently, pharmaceutical agents should not be increased or decreased without supervision by a mental health clinician.

    • ON THE OTHER HAND, your brain belongs to you, and your opinion counts. If you decide that changing your medication regimen will serve your best interest, then I believe your providers have an obligation to help you try to achieve your goals. I want everyone to be educated about their options, and do what will be most helpful for themselves. No one should feel pushed around by dogmatic and/or limited viewpoints, whether those of psychiatrists, anti-psychiatry advocates, or myself.


Pity the Deluded Psychiatrist?

Duane Sherry, an online friend, frequent commentator, and creator of the valuable site Discover and Recover, alerted me to a discussion sparked by a comment of mine on another site. The blogger who wrote in response to my story calls himself 1 Boring Old Man, and is a psychiatrist who criticizes his field.

My contribution was nothing more than the saga regular readers here already know: after neck disease ended my surgical career, I suffered major mental health problems and then even worse difficulties caused by psychiatric drugs.

These days I don’t write so much about psychopharmaceuticals, their marketing, or their toxicity. But in the past these topics occupied many blog posts. Even so, I’ve never been much of an anti-psychiatry activist.

There are reasons for my low profile in this debate. For one thing, I’m more interested in highlighting tools that can help us safely achieve mental wellness than in dwelling on treatments that can’t. More important in the present context is the fact that justifiable anger about psychiatric drugs too often gets expressed as attacks on psychiatrists. Such contempt, bordering on hatred, sounds to me both unhealthy and unproductive. Some of the responses to the 1 Boring Old Man discussion remind me of this troubling trend.

Maybe such language bothers me because I’m a physician myself. Even though I no longer practice Western medicine (I administer acupuncture to alleviate emotional and physical pain), I spent many years among conventional doctors and learned to understand them. There is no denying they can be arrogant and insensitive, but most started their careers with the best of intentions and strong callings to help. Psychiatrists of my era were trained during a period of great optimism about brain science. Although it was relatively new at the time, the assumption that mental conditions were due to diseased nervous systems (as opposed to unconscious conflict or problematic upbringing) was unquestioned in residency programs. Drugs given for psychiatric problems often conferred dramatic short term benefit. When first administered (before the side effects accumulated), they looked like miracle cures.

And of course there was the tsunami of pharmaceutical marketing, which promised a revolution in mental health care based on what looked like impressive research. To give you a sense of the naivety common among doctors, take a closer look at my own case. When I started taking potent psychiatric drugs and was confronted with lengthy warning labels, I refused to read them. I assumed the medications wouldn’t be allowed to reach market if they weren’t proven effective and basically safe. It seems so stupid in retrospect, but my training instilled in me solid faith in the medical system. It was only as I became obese, mentally clouded, hormonally impaired, sexually dysfunctional, and diabetic that my trust began to waver.

These complications were happening in my own body, not someone else’s, so they hit home in a powerful way. To the average psychiatrist, watching patients develop such side effects may have been troubling, but rather easy to write off since the suffering wasn’t personal. Yes, doctors should have been more compassionate, but they believed the drugs essential to wellbeing. The accepted wisdom was that mental disorders were so awful that bodily deterioration represented a reasonable trade-off.

My goal here isn’t to make excuses, but to point out that psychiatrists are human like everyone else. They are just as susceptible to delusions as are their patients. Like all of us, they can easily blind themselves to what Al Gore would call inconvenient truths.

They should change. They must. But my goal is to help us all find reliable paths toward health. To promote better methods, we must publicize the fact that medications are dangerous and ultimately ineffective. But the people who most need to hear such information are the psychiatrists, and they won’t listen if they hear hatred.

Although to speak out and agitate for change is vital, accusing psychiatrists of being soulless monsters is both wrong and counterproductive. Doctors are far more likely to change if their critics look rational, open-minded, and kind than if they sound unreasonable and blinded by anger. If psychiatrists hear venomous attacks rather than reasonable appeals, they will simply harden their views. That is human nature.

The real monster in this story is capitalism. In my opinion it’s nearly always an evil, but it’s especially destructive when serving as the driving force behind health care. The inevitable result of developing psychiatric treatments with a market mentality is that profit becomes the over-riding value: not healing, not safety, not compassion, but the bottom line.

The capitalist system, the governments that serve it, and the health care systems developed by it, have been built by people but are not people. Let us direct our contempt at the structures directly responsible for harm, and then help those trapped and deluded by capitalist values and marketing learn the error of their ways. This means speaking the truth firmly and loudly, but also rationally and calmly. It means minimizing accusations about past behavior (although we must be clear about the historical facts that led to the current disaster in undermined mental health care), and concentrating on gathering support for future improvement.

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The Evolutionary Spirit

Why did our minds evolve with the capacity to go mad? Why are our emotions capable of disabling us? Why did we end up with feelings at all?

Let’s start with the last question. When evolutionary biologists study emotion, they usually ask about its survival value. What is it that makes feelings useful to a creature’s reproductive success?

This approach troubles me, because it suggests (implicitly) that animals might just as well have evolved as heartless robots, devoid of any true investment in life. The only reason for feelings in this style of evolutionary logic is that they increased mammalian ability to foster viable offspring. And note that the word mammalian is not arbitrary. Such hypotheses generally go on to assert that reptiles, amphibians, fish, and invertebrates are devoid of meaningful emotion. Which, if you think about it, is another way of saying they don’t care about their lives.

But as I’ve pointed out in another post, even spiders seem pretty insistent on their preference for living over dying. So-called lower animals don’t appear robotic and unaffected. They behave quite passionately when their survival is threatened. Could it be that feelings aren’t just utilitarian, but fundamental to life?

Consider next how this reductionist style of evolutionary reasoning gets applied to psychiatric conditions. How does this rubric explain the persistence of mental afflictions in human populations? After all, psychiatric conditions strike during reproductive years and carry a significant mortality rate (possibly as high as 20% for bipolar conditions). If we argue by selection, we must conclude that the reproductive benefits outweigh the risks.

What are the positive qualities that accompany mental instability? Here we start by considering that intellectual and artistic abilities might have evolved because they increase a mate’s desirability. The idea is that the cavemen who could paint evocative bisons had more success with the cave-ladies. Those who created also procreated.

Then remember that mental health conditions occur more commonly among artists and visionaries. Could the persistence of madness result from its tendency to increase creative output, not to mention reproductive drive?

It’s a reasonable argument, and probably one with some underlying truth. But to me it seems a surprisingly uninspired view of inspired lunacy. It sounds like something a bureaucrat would think up.

And in fact, one criticism of Darwinian theory has always been that it suits capitalists. Bean-counters like “survival of the fittest,” because it justifies the hoarding of beans. To say that passion, creative drive, and wild thinking evolved through better baby-making may not be wrong, but it may leave out mysterious and vital undercurrents in human life.

Let’s imagine, momentarily, that there is more to the cosmos than the material realm. It could be, after all, that mystical forces affect our lives. In which case we might expect that some of our qualities result from influences other than competitive insemination and over-protective child-rearing. We might have lessons to learn, for instance. Maybe some human qualities arose to help us evolve in the spiritual rather than biological sense.

So could it be that mental health problems are serving a higher purpose? Just possibly, the pain of psychiatric distress serves to break down egos and open minds to realms beyond the physical. Maybe “mental illnesses” are not as disastrous as many believe. Maybe they are Grace in formation.

If that were true, and I admit to wild (creative?) speculation here, we would be completely misguided in trying to suppress such conditions. By doing so, we would be robbing people of their chances for growth. We’d be better advised to help the potent energies of psychiatric distress play out in safe and instructive ways.

Unfortunately, the choice in current society is all-too-often between medication and alienation. Or between hospitalization and jail. Inner turmoil no longer has any chance of creating shamans or prophets, because we drug down or lock up anyone who deviates too far from the claustrophobic modern mold.

This is the danger of accepted wisdom. Everyone assumes that natural selection is the sole element at play in evolution only because that’s what everyone assumes. While selection is no doubt a potent force, it has not been proven to be the only influence on evolution, and many scientific facts suggest that we need a more encompassing theory. Postulating purposeful nudges that supervene among the changes sculpted by selection would resolve the evidentiary problems in conventional evolutionary theory. (These nudges wouldn’t necessarily require an omnipotent deity, but could arise as part of the natural self-organization of the cosmos—but this is a topic for another essay.)

Yes, it may be that feelings, madness, artistry, and the like can all be explained in terms of robotic animals competing for resources and mates. But let’s at least admit that richer and more interesting possibilities remain. Until they have been ruled out, we are neither scientific nor inspired if we dismiss them from consideration. And if other explanations deserve attention, then so do other treatment models. If mental conditions are meant to teach us, our society should honor rather than abhor them, and our psychiatric care should promote rather than hinder their flowering.

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A Crazy Camp Idea

What if instead of psychiatric hospitals, we created spirit-healing camps?

Not long ago I wrote a post proposing that Mental Health Day be renamed Spiritual Health Day. In that essay I explained how it seems to me that spiritual malady would be a more accurate and less damaging label than mental illness. With that in mind, I submit we should work to create crisis centers that nurture the soul.

Whenever people felt crushed by unrelenting sorrow, or burned with too much energy for normal life, or heard persecuting voices, or felt like God’s chosen child, they would be offered escape to a pleasant retreat in the countryside. Once onsite, they could work in an organic garden, or staff the stables, or help build a new lodge. They could ride horses, paddle in canoes, and play frisbee on the lawn.

They could come and go when they pleased. They would learn about the brain, and about psychiatric problems, but they would also hear how mental conditions have been positively viewed by other cultures. They could attend meditation sessions, practice a spiritual tradition if they chose, and they could make art of all kinds. Groups would play music and sing in the evenings. There would be no television, and no computers, but lots of books and endless craft supplies.

The tenants could choose whether to stay in dormitory-style lodges or camp alone in the wild. They would be encouraged to keep regular hours, to exercise, and to participate, but they would never be coerced. And each day a bus would arrive to bring in newcomers and let those who wanted to depart go home.

Those who felt in contact with mystical forces would be guided by spiritually advanced peers who had passed through similar gates. Those who wanted to talk about their problems could meet in groups. Others could journal on their own. Attendees would learn about the inspired but troubled minds of Mozart, Lincoln, Van Gogh, Nietzsche, Plath, and many more. They would be taught to harness the positive aspects of their condition and minimize the negative. They would be guided by others like themselves instead of ‘normal’ professionals. A prerequisite for employment on the grounds would be direct experience with personal or familial psychiatric distress.

Medications would be available, maybe, but they would be voluntary only, and prescribed by doctors who understood the dangers of pharmaceuticals. There would be just as much emphasis on bodily as on mental care. Aerobics, yoga, Qi Gong, running, and many other physical activities would be offered. The camp would emphasize good food, socialization, and fun. At the same time, anyone who needed solitude could readily find it.

People would be asked to securely store their valuables prior to entry, so there would be no concern about theft or jealousy. And if anyone became unacceptably disruptive, the worst consequence would be a bus ride back out.

Perhaps this sounds too utopian to ever be realized, but there have been several programs along these lines over the years. Unfortunately, few have persisted and the model has not spread. The Quakers rejected dungeons in favor of humane asylums long ago, but in an era when few knew how to manage powerful mental states or transform them into positive experiences. Nowadays reimbursement issues and the dominance of drug companies have produced the modern mental ward, complete with little paper drug cups and heavy steel doors.

The new model might succeed where earlier experiments broke down, because it would emphasize management by those who had been through psychic torment but grew beyond it. This would not be a paternalistic asylum, but a fraternal refuge. The staff would not be guards, but guides. Without enforced confinement, with little reliance on drugs, and in a rustic setting, costs could be minimized.

Perhaps I’ll be accused of living in a dreamworld, but the vision of a naturalistic healing center has been on my mind since childhood. Why must mental health care be administered in sterile hospitals? It’s not like psychiatric problems are transmitted by germs.

We don’t lock the grieving widow in a mental ward because she feels overwhelmed by sadness. We take her to a chapel, surround her with friends and family, and honor her departed husband. When people die we use the inevitable emotional turmoil as the pivot for a ceremony calling Grace into the world.

Or consider that when people feel powerfully moved at weddings we don’t hand out Ativan; we encourage the full expression of Bliss.

When emotion occurs in a group setting it becomes a shared and sacred event. Even tragedies like earthquakes and terrorist attacks bring this quality to light. Look at the rituals and monuments built around 9/11.

So why can’t we use the same tactic to deal with the isolated breakdowns and breakthroughs that occur sporadically every day in every culture? Why not emphasize the power of these experiences rather than their pathology? Why not offer the suffering a setting where they can be safe while they rattle their mental cages and seek a path toward peace?

Mental turmoil can be used as the base metal for an alchemical transformation of spirit. Agony can turn to insight with the right support. Maybe what I’m suggesting isn’t the best answer, but to me it sounds better than Bedlam.

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Mental Health Treatment

Finally, I’m figuring it out. When I first signed up for web hosting/blogging, all I knew was that I had a lot to say. I started with a bit of philosophical musing, spelling out some rather ordinary ideas about the difference between the conscious mind, which I called the ‘will’, and the unconscious, which I called the ‘spirit’. Looking back, that stuff strikes me as boring.

What really matters to me is mental health, and especially how professional services attempt to get us there. I’ve had both positive and negative experiences with medication and therapy. Both have helped me, but both have also caused some grievous harm. I’m interested in hearing what others have experienced. I’d like to know your horror story, and/or how a therapist or medication has changed your life for the better. As time goes on, I will share my own tales of disaster and delight.

Please join me as I explore the treatments meted out by the mental health system. I am tired of being treated as a ‘patient’, or even a ‘client’ or ‘consumer’. I don’t like being put in a separate category from those who are supposed to be helping me, but often that seems to be exactly what happens. I am a person like any other, and capable of solving my own problems with a little assistance.

Too often ‘the system’ wants to take over and dictate what is wrong with us and what we are capable of. But the fact is that psychiatric science remains primitive, with little if any predictive power. If any one of us wants, we can exceed the expectations the system tries to hand us. I just wish we heard that truth more often from those who are supposed to be guiding us. I wish they more often had the humility to let us know they lack answers.

That’s just a small taste of my frustration. I’d really like to hear yours.

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