Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

Mad Liberation: The Missing Piece of The Puzzle

There are a lot of social movements now that are gaining awareness and support in new ways thanks to the global communication the internet has made possible. For example, feminism, Black Lives Matter, climate activism etc. And it’s very encouraging to see that more people are becoming aware of how these all link together too. There’s still a very very long way to go, that’s for sure, and in some ways the enormity can seem overwhelming. But there’s certainly movement happening in these movements, and a lot of passion. But what about mental health? 

When we think of the mental health movement we think of mental health awareness. And for the vast majority of people what they come in contact with under ‘mental health awareness’ is hotline numbers, slogans telling people to reach out, self care tips, and really very repetitive, surface level approaches. The general public does not seem to be aware of the deep issues and abuses in psychiatry, how we view mental health, and how it really impacts all of our lives. In all the fighting for a better future, mad liberation is overlooked, underestimated, misunderstood, or ignored. And that’s damaging for all of us. We cannot be fighting for racial justice, trans rights, and human rights without mad liberation. And yet so few people seem to be aware of it – in fact many people seem scared to approach the topic, which just shows how deeply the stigma and ignorance runs. Maybe, just maybe, mad liberation is the missing piece in the social justice fight. 

Take for example the language we use to describe other social movements – you are a climate activist, a civil rights activist, a human rights activist, but you are a mental health advocate. That’s not to say advocate is a bad word, it is absolutely not, and it’s a badge I’m proud to wear. But to call myself a mental health ‘activist’ sounds wrong. Why? Is it because advocacy feels more acceptable? Perhaps it connotes simply raising awareness within the status quo, continuing to adhere to systems already in place rather than radically opposing them and fighting for change. Maybe not, but I certainly think there’s something in the language.

 Furthermore, why is it always mental health advocate, and rarely mental illness advocate, or madness advocate? For me that sums up the major narrative surrounding the mental health movement, because it focuses on the palatable part that challenges less assumptions and less people, that appeals to everyone. Everyone has mental health, so everyone should care about mental health! Yeah – that’s not wrong. But a lot of people are deemed mentally ill. A lot of people deal with the consequences of madness in this society their entire lives. And the narrative focusing on the easily digestible, easily implemented parts of mental health awareness leaves them behind yet again. It silences and harms them. 

Psychiatry uses mental illness to uphold societal values. Always has. That’s why drapetomania was a proposed mental illness to explain why slaves wanted to escape slavery. That’s why being gay was classified as a mental illness until 1990, and being trans was classified a mental illness until 2019. And that is why one of the major diagnostic criteria for mental illness nowadays is disruption to a person’s ability to work – productivity and fitting into expectations of normality are societal values. 

But people are very rarely encouraged to consider this. They are encouraged to be aware of the signs of common mental illness in the context of deriving from the expectations placed upon us, and recovery in the context of making people be productive citizens again. The common mental health awareness narrative traps us. It does not allow us to redefine healing, to discover the socioeconomic factors in wellbeing, to find community, or to change the pace at which we live. It does not allow us to think about the deeper questions of why, and how can this really be better. 

But what would happen if we questioned? We would hear the voices of psychiatric survivors shouting about the abuse they have endured in the mental health system. We would discover how mental illness and criminalisation are deeply intertwined, and perhaps discover how to create true justice by supporting and liberating people in new ways. We would start to ask, what would happen if we didn’t sedate people into the same reality, but rather found ways to help people incorporate their own reality into their world? We would find new ways of sharing resources, kindness, connection, and changing the pace at which we live. We would find new language to define our human experience. We would free all of us to actually consider what happiness entails. Finally, we would find the link to all the other socioeconomic problems we are facing today, and in doing so find new solutions and progress towards all of them. 

We need to be kind and we need to be supportive, but we don’t need to be afraid to really ask questions about mental health, its presentation, and the treatment of madness as it is. Mental health activism is needed. Mad liberation is needed. But a deep held belief that mad people need protecting – or being protected from – has too often tried to stifle the missing piece in social justice movements. Mad people deserve to be heard, believed, and treated with respect and dignity in social action spaces just like anyone else. 

So I ask the question – is mad liberation the missing piece? 

Maybe. I don’t know for sure. But I think it might be. I certainly think solidarity between oppressed, hurting, and caring people is necessary for progress. We won’t fix everything; we will get things wrong. But as long as we keep questioning, and keep learning, we can make a difference. It’s worth a try at the very least.

Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

10 Reminders for Mental Health Week

This week is mental health awareness week here in the UK, and it’s mental health awareness month in the USA. Therefore you’re likely to see a lot of information – and misinformation! – floating around. A lot of people making gestures towards mental health, and hollow gestures too. I’m obviously a mental health advocate all year round, and I’m also neurodiverse, mentally ill, and disabled all year round. So it’s not just a week for me, and in fact this week can be difficult for me because instead of showing me how far we’ve come it becomes glaringly obvious to me how far we still have to travel. It’s frustrating to see people posting hotline numbers, empty phrases, and self care tips without even hinting at the deep issues surrounding mental health. To be clear, I don’t blame individuals, it just reminds me how frustrated I am with the system.

So today here are 10 reminders of things you might not be hearing so much this mental health week that we still need to keep in mind:

1. The mental health system is failing, and inherently linked with the criminalisation of mental illness. You cannot simply fund a broken system

2. Psychiatry is used to uphold what society deems as acceptable

3. There is a lot of psychiatric abuse, which continues to go unknown by many. We must listen to psych survivors, who have been systematically silenced for years

4. Yes we all have mental health, and that is very important. But choosing to focus on the palatable narrative that goes along with ‘we all have mental health’ tends to ignore the chronically mentally ill, mad, and ostracised. Essentially, if you are talking about mental health you also need to talk about the parts that aren’t as easily digestible

5. The goal of healing should not be productivity

6. We cannot stick a bandaid on the mental health crisis without addressing the deep underlying socioeconomic problems in this country

7. We cannot heal in a vacuum. Community is needed for good mental health

8. This is actually a life or death issue for many people. We don’t have to get dragged down in the sadness of that all the time, but it is important to remember the gravity of it

9. If everyone needs therapy then society is sick, not each individual

10. Diagnosis and/or medication do not work for everyone

Thanks for reading! Sending so much love and support to you all today xxx

Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

Mental Health is Intersectional

Today is a blog reminding everyone of a certain point I try to illuminate all the time through my advocacy: mental health is intersectional. What does this mean? It means mental health is not a stand alone issue; it is connected to all other social justice issues, and all other parts of our lives. Intersectionality is about where these issues cross over, and how they cross over, and how if someone falls in the intersection of more than one (for example are faced with racism and ableism) it can create more problems for them that may be overlooked, ignored, or misunderstood by even the most well intentioned people – myself included. But intersectionality for me also is not just about these disadvantages and discriminations – which are of course very real and very harmful and deserve to be seen. It is also about problem solving, and hope. 

The systemic issue of mental illness and its manifestation in individual people’s lives is not a stand alone issue. So it can be overwhelming to consider in a wider context because how the hell are we supposed to solve everything? I get it. It can be overwhelming, scary, and sometimes makes me want to just give up. But what if we chose to see intersectionality as empowering and a source of hope? Because it means we’re not just isolated as mental health advocates, or people who care about climate justice, or people who are trying to solve poverty. It means we are united as people who care. Understanding intersectionality, and continuing to be aware of how our understanding and circumstances may shift, allows us to be more creative in our solutions and more effective in our actions. 

If we start to realise mental health care also means community care then we are not left helplessly shouting into an abyss; perhaps instead we are empowered to create a community event, or connect with friends in a more intentional way. If we realise mental health care also means food security, then we are empowered to donate to our local food banks and come up with innovative ways to share with our community. If we realise mental health care means antiracism then we are empowered to learn and be intentional in sharing this learning with the next generation. When we realise mental health care is intersectional, we actually create stronger bonds, stronger supports, and stronger futures. 

We cannot shut our eyes to the world around us. But we might have a little bit of power over how we choose to view it. This country is becoming more and more authoritarian, and I don’t think it is an exaggeration to say it is sliding towards fascism in many ways. 

From the 3rd May more laws restricting and criminalising protest – including union action! – will come into effect. Over the weekend over 50 people were arrested for protesting peacefully during the coronation ‘celebrations’ – which cost millions while more people than ever are below the poverty line. A country without protest is not a democracy. A country where the gap between rich and poor continues to widen with government support is not looking after its citizens. We cannot ignore this and we cannot allow this, and we have to recognise how it relates to all our social justice issues. How can we ever hope to see a country with good mental health if people do not have free speech and cannot afford to eat? 

The good news is, resistance isn’t one size fits all. And understanding intersectionality can allow us to fight back in an effective, loving way. If everyone who can supports their food bank and creates community driven initiatives to eradicate food insecurity, the government can’t ignore it. If the artists create art, and the people who can protest go to protests, and the workers all strike, then it sends a message loud and clear that they can try all they want, but we aren’t having it. We care about each other and we want to see a brighter future. And that big message starts with small actions. It starts with having a conversation, donating a can of beans, drawing a picture, and offering to help out a neighbour. Even if you’re only making a difference to one person, and even if that person is you, you are still making a difference. Never think you cannot make a difference; it’s at least worth a try. However that looks for you, even if it looks like rest right now. You matter. And it all intersects. 

Sending so much love and support to you all today xxx

Posted in Mental Health, Personal Growth

Fear of Going Crazy

Two years ago a group of young changemakers, including myself, came together for a discussion. We decided that we would all come dressed as our worst fears. There was one person dressed as a bat, another as a spider; one came as the idea of losing love. I came dressed as the fear of losing my mind. As someone with chronic mental illness, it’s not a fear that feels far away – it’s not a distant possibility that one day I’ll get dementia. It feels very real, very possible, and very close. And I wanted to talk about that here today, because it’s a part of my mental health experience that I haven’t seen reflected in many places.

Me dressed as the fear of losing my mind

I think many people with experience of mental health issues, or big emotions, can relate to the feeling that it’s never going to get better. In times of depression, grief, and heartache our ability to truly envision a future and see the fullness of life becomes warped. It’s a terrible phenomenon that unfortunately has taken many lives. I’ve experienced it myself many times and it is terrifying. But the feeling of going crazy, the fear of it, is something different for me. In intense moments it takes the same inability to see things getting changing and redirects them towards a feeling of a loss of self and loss of reality.

As a mentally ill person, despite owning the idea of being ‘mad’ with great pride, I feel I am constantly running from the idea of being seen as crazy. Which is almost certainly related to the stigma around certain symptoms – namely the less pretty ones, mania, psychosis, irritability, flight of ideas etc; the stigma around the idea of being ‘crazy’. My mental health difficulties are a huge part of my identity – by my own choosing – and yet I still feel a need to mask how they really are lest I lose control over the narrative of my own mental illness. So that’s a part of this fear, it’s not really a fear of losing my mind, but a fear of being seen as crazy and losing autonomy and connection because of it. A deep fear of being misunderstood and unseen.

Yet the real, gnawing fear for me is internal. It is a fear that one day I will become irreversibly changed; I will lose all knowledge of our shared reality and slip entirely into a different one; I will enter an episode and never come out; I will lose myself. It’s ridiculous really, because we are constantly irreversibly changed, and our idea of self is constantly changing. Most likely the fear is rooted in internalised ableism compounded by my experiences of madness.

As Carrie Fisher once said ‘once you’ve lost your mind you don’t know it’s missing’ (that wording may not be right, but that’s the gist). So really the end result that I’m so scared of would actually just be a different way of being. Nothing inherently better or worse about it for me. So what am I really afraid of? Other people’s judgments. A lack of autonomy and care. And perhaps ‘going crazy’ and then reemerging, as would most likely happen in all the scenarios I imagine. Because I have actually lost myself before – when I was drinking I lost sight of who I was. That process of reemerging is deeply, deeply painful so maybe that’s what I’m afraid of. And finally, when I am not in the intense whirlwind of feeling like I’m going crazy, I think what I fear the most is being in that whirlwind again.

Let me attempt to illustrate why the whirlwind is so terrifying. You see, in that place I am two versions of myself at the same time – trapped in a paradox being ripped apart with searing force. One version of myself is the whirlwind. It is the tornado, screaming and tearing through life. The other version of myself stands in the eye of the storm, trying to avoid its path, screaming pointlessly into the spiral to remember who we really are while losing touch with who I am at the same time. Mostly all I can hear is the version that becomes the tornado, but there comes these background thoughts, senses and moments where the version of myself that sees life more clearly breaks through. 

And really it is the background knowledge that something is not right, that there will be consequences, that I am hurting – it is that reminder of who I am that makes me so afraid and so hurt. I know somehow that something is wrong, but I can’t stop it. This paradox creates the fear of going crazy, because I’m trying to figure out what’s real, trying to be less angry, trying to do the right thing and still getting it wrong. The moments when the whirlwind drowns out all sense of self are actually more peaceful, in a strange way.

It’s really a pointless fear. I can do all I can to protect myself and those around me and nothing more. The idea of being judged is useless to me; the internal ableism is something for me to face. But still this fear raises its head every now and then. This year at drama school I became convinced I was ‘disappeared’ – not that I had disappeared, that I was disappeared. I was so far away from myself and yet able to drift through my life and I feared that it would be that way forever. It wasn’t. Most things don’t last forever and that is wonderful. Essentially, if you’re a mentally ill person who shares this fear – hi, you’re not alone! And if you’re not and this sounds to you like I’ve already gone crazy, who knows – our realities are only relative anyway. I choose to set free this fear today and face my future with love and action instead. Sending love and support to you all today xxx

Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

I Don’t Know What To Do

I sometimes call myself a mental health advocate. I’d like to say I am one, but sometimes I feel like I’m not. Because I don’t know what to do. 

We need more awareness, yes, but actual awareness, critical awareness of how we form our views of mental health and the intersectionality of societal issues. I can – to a point – help raise awareness, and I try to. But if I’m honest it feels a bit useless sometimes. I honestly have no idea how to make tangible change. Of course we can write letters and go to protests – but in the current political atmosphere I wonder if it’s doing anything at all; it’s hard to watch the government become what I genuinely believe is more and more fascist and not know a way forward. Then of course we can also make art, have conversations, create peer connections and connect with nature. This is generally what I focus on because it seems achievable, and I really do believe small changes build up and matter greatly. But underneath it all I am at a loss. 

Why am I telling you this? Because I think a lot of us feel helpless. And because I want to explain why I don’t share more actions to take – because I don’t know what actions to take. It’s something I want to focus on more, and I think maybe a good place to start is by sharing openly that I don’t know what to do. It’s easy for us to sit back and do nothing simply because we are unsure of what to do, or because we are afraid. The sense of hopelessness or helplessness is perhaps one of the most pernicious ills we have learnt; it separates us and takes away our power even further. Of course it’s understandable. How the hell do we stop climate change when the overwhelming majority of emissions come from huge corporations? How do we reform the mental health system when most people are unaware of its issues and the bodies in charge aren’t listening? I don’t know. But I think maybe, just maybe, it might start with people working to build communities again; to build connections again. 

I’m an 18 year old who can barely keep their own head above water some days. But I want to help. I want to connect and be a part of change. I want to listen and learn and build. I’m sure in the future I will think differently about some of the things I’ve already said and written; I’m sure I have and will get things wrong, even cause harm through mistakes. And you know what? That’s ok. Because fear of getting it wrong, of being helpless or not having a voice, are not worth staying silent. All we can do is do the best we know how to at the time and stay open to learning.

I don’t know how to begin to face the systematic issues with mental health treatment. I don’t know how to involve everyone in the conversation, how to raise my own voice without speaking over others. I don’t know if there should be no psychiatry at all (because it is absolutely a harmful system), or reform it, or if it is even possible to reform. I don’t know how we can use language differently and how it might help. I don’t know! But I want to find out. I want to listen to all the voices, I want to learn and I want to have a go. Yeah, we’ll probably get things wrong. But we have to try, right? 

If you have any resources, readings, ideas or anything else you’d like to share to help me (and others) grow in our action, please share them in the comments or via the contact page. 

Sending love and support to you all today xxx

Posted in Managing Mental Health, Mental Health, Personal Growth

What Grief Means To Me

Grief is something all of us will experience in our lives because death and endings are a part of life. And I suppose that can be a comfort, a way to make the grief make sense, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. However the idea of grief is something many of us associate solely with death; in this last year redefining what grief is for me has helped me to process it and let myself grow. Grief doesn’t just apply to the death of a loved one – it applies to the end of a situation, a relationship, a friendship. 

This post isn’t a deep dive into grief – the stages, the processes, the sharing and healing etc – there are so many wonderful resources out there already for that (although I would encourage anyone interested to also look for creative explorations and presentations of grief in art, theatre, literature etc because it’s so healing). This post is more like me outstretching my hand with my own experiences to tell anyone out there who might happen to stumble across this that it’s ok, I’ve been there too.

In the last year I have grieved a lot. And it hasn’t always been sad – I think most of us know grief isn’t like that. In fact, I didn’t even realise at first that I was grieving; being autistic I just thought I was having a hard time adjusting to change, and I felt a lot of shame around that, the need to just move on quicker. And, ok yeah, I do definitely find change difficult. But noticing and naming the grief has actually set me free a bit. 

In June I lost my home. I left in the morning and I never went back; I had no idea that would be my last time leaving that house. I don’t remember leaving, I don’t remember the last thing I said to that person, the last time my dog came to say hello to me in the morning – because you’re not meant to remember those things. I had almost no reaction for 8 months, and then an intense explosion of anger. Feeling sad about it is still hard. And for a lack of a reaction, I thought I had a lack of grief. But I don’t. It affected my ability to feel safe in the place I am living, always feeling like any moment it could be pulled out from under me, and with that came the grief. That uncertainty was my way through to grief. 

I also left my school, which I considered my home. And this was so hard to grieve because it seemed like everyone else moved on quicker and I was just stuck, but grieving school has been perhaps the most transformative experience of this year. It’s been my path through to expanding my sense of self, world, connection, and love. It also hurts. So if like me you are thinking you’re being too slow to move on from something, please know it is alright. You are allowed to take up space, to feel, and to go on your own journey. Even if it’s a positive step, leaving behind things that mattered so much to us is painful. And we do grieve things, situations and places – not just people. 

I believe the thing about grief is you can’t force it or rush it. The only thing you can do is allow it, without allowing it to consume you. It’s hard but life does carry on. Maybe joy and excitement and purpose won’t look the same as before, but you are allowed to redefine these things. 

This year I have grieved the death of my grandmother; the possibility of a relationship that could have been in the context of a death that will be; and perhaps strangest of all, I have grieved the living. All of these are complicated, all of them come with different challenges and presentations. Sometimes I feel shame because my strongest reactions are about a dog, or a place, rather than the person who has actually died. But really they all mix together in a way too; they link and lace around each other to become an imprint on me and my journey. I’m ok with that. 

Point is – there is not one way to grieve. There is not one situation in which grief appears. And all of us will grieve many many times in our lives. This is your journey to figure out, but not alone; we are connected in our love and our loss, however it finds us. 

Sending so much love and support to you all today xx

Posted in Mental Health

Songs for my Bipolar Experience

Music is a really important tool in how I connect to the world; I have music or a podcast playing nearly all the time for sensory reasons. Like with all creative arts, music can help us connect to others, express our experiences, and change or reflect our moods. There are some things about my experience that I feel communicated in songs more deeply than I ever good in words of my own. 

So today I thought I’d share a playlist of sorts with songs that I feel connect with parts of my experience with bipolar disorder. They may be helpful in understanding what it’s like for someone else, or yourself, but they’re also really great songs so I would recommend giving them a listen! But obviously music can be quite powerful in how it makes us feel, so please use your own discretion. Let me know what you think of them in the comments below, and if you relate with any yourselves.

  1. Control by Halsey 

Captures that feeling of dangerous energy that comes along with my experience; the desire and lack of control 

  1. Piano Sonata No.14 in C# minor, Op.27 No.2, Moonlight – Presto (aka. Moonlight Sonata Movement 3)

My favourite version is played by Daniel Barenboim, I think he really conveys the emotion of the music. Such a beautiful piece of music that encapsulates the feeling of (hypo)mania for me, the energy and beauty and pain – I can find all of it in this piece 

  1. Light of Love by Florence and The Machine 

This song resonates with a sense of healing for me, and gives me the power to keep going sometimes. It helps remind me that I am still me inside

  1. The Sounds of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel 

I know it’s become a bit of a meme song but the lyrics and harmonies of this song are truly amazing. I find it resonates with my experience of depression, especially the feeling of slipping back there again 

  1. A Reason to Fight by Disturbed 

I mean the title says it all really. A powerful message of support and willing to stay and fight when it all gets too much 

  1. Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell 

In my opinion one of the best songs ever written. It has so much love, care, and growth in it and resonates with me differently every time I hear it. It reminds me of how I feel I change and grow through each episode, and the wholeness and seasons of life 

  1. I Miss the Mountains from Next to Normal 

This musical is about a family where the mother has bipolar disorder and this song captures a sentiment I don’t hear talked about very often – that you can actually wish to go back to a time when it was worse. There’s a certain numbness and difficulty in adjusting to being ‘ok’ and a grief of life not lived, and this song really holds that message in a gentle way 

  1. Girl Anachronism by The Dresden Dolls 

This song represents so much of the feelings of (hypo)mania for me, and what that itchy energy is like, not only at the time but also how the illness as a whole makes you feel set apart from the rest of the world sometimes; how it is a huge part of our lives and our identities

  1. A Safe Place to Land by Sara Bareilles 

This song is comforting to me in a lot of situations, especially when I’m overwhelmed or hopeless. It’s full of support and helps me feel held; like it can get better again. It reminds me I’m not alone

  1. listen before i go by Billie Eilish 

Really encapsulates a feeling of hopelessness in depression 

  1. She Used to Be Mine from Waitress 

This song has been so immensely important to me on my journey, especially with addiction recovery (something a lot of people with bipolar struggle with). It holds both grief for who we used to be and a desire to fight and become who we can be. I just love it. 

  1. Quiet from Matilda The Musical 

Again this really carries the sense of what it is like in my brain when mania starts to kick in, thoughts flowing from one to the next so quickly and loudly and how that can bring such anger. But also the calm end to the song captures a part of my experience I can’t even explain but is so very very real, and almost beautiful 

  1. Everybody Hurts by R.E.M

Comforting and well known, I listened to this song on repeat as I was dragging myself out of one of my first depressive episodes 

  1. Sky Full of Song by Florence + the Machine 

Somehow carries a sense of both depression and mania for me – the exhaustion from going and going, pretending to be ok, not knowing you’re not etc etc. It is a song of pause and reconnection to myself 

  1. Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley 

Obviously there are many other versions of this song but the feeling this version gives me is unrivalled. It mirrors that desperation of that desperation in depression for me, without actually making me feel depressed listening to it 

  1. Clown by Emeli Sandé

Feel like it spans a lot of different experiences in life and trying to reckon with them, but for me it also helps process the difficult feelings that come with facing the consequences of things that have happened/ you’ve done in an episode (or in addiction)

If you liked this post, please let me know as I have many other songs that resonate with different parts of my experience and I love sharing them! Sending love and support as always xxx

Posted in Advocacy, sobriety

Harm Reduction Introduction

As you may know if you follow this blog, I am sober having struggled with addiction as a teenager. It has been the most amazing thing in my life, but I absolutely know and understand that it is not the path for many or even an option. Even if sobriety is something that would work for someone there can be many reasons why it isn’t possible – namely the inability to access detox units to help them get clean safely, or community resources. For some it can be dangerous to try and get clean without these aids. And I absolutely do not look down on anyone who drinks, uses or relies on substances in any way. 

Who are we to say that prescription use of ADHD meds is different to someone using illegal  substances to get through a day? Who are we to decide what drugs are morally correct or not? No drug – prescription or not – is inherently good or bad. Of course addiction can have devastating effects, I know that all too well. But not everyone’s usage, options, or actions are the same, and it is always a personal journey of how someone uses or decides to get clean. 

You may or may not agree with this, but I encourage you to open your mind to an understanding that drugs are not inherently evil, and there is not an inherently superior drug. Nor are the people that use drugs in different ways inherently good or bad. Some are of course inflicted with the pernicious disease of addiction – and that is devastating. I know and have watched that first hand; it is an awful awful disease that destroys the lives of those affected and those surrounding them. But it is each person’s journey to travel; all we can do is provide support. And just like not everyone who drinks is an alcoholic, not everyone who uses is an addict. The thing that can help all drug users is harm reduction information. 

Whether you self medicate, are struggling with addiction, like to go out sometimes, harm reduction is really important. It takes as much of the physical (and mental) risk out of using as possible. It is knowledge which can be applied to help keep you and others safe. Being informed about drugs is really important. And I know in moments of need, desperation or excitement we may not remember or be able to apply all this information – but I know from personal experience having it in the back of your mind really does make a difference, both personally and in order to help others. You never know when it might come in handy, even if you don’t use personally. 

But harm reduction should also refer to policies that aim to help those using drugs (including those with addiction) rather than criminalising and stigmatising them. 

So here is some very basic harm reduction information to be aware of, with some much better websites linked below. I personally really like Frank – it gives a clear breakdown of names of different drugs, how they feel, how long their effects last, risks etc. It’s super useful to know of and be able to share with others when they have questions. 

  • Naloxone – Naloxone goes by a few different names including Narcan, Prenoxad and Nyxoid. It’s an emergency antidote that reverses the effects of an opioid overdose (from heroin, fentanyl, codeine, methadone, morphine etc). It is widely available to get in the US and is becoming easier to get in the UK (now available as an over the counter medicine). It is lifesaving, a very good thing to carry around with you especially if you are around people who are at risk of an overdose. You can get Naloxone in the US for free here, along with free fentanyl test strips to make sure you’re not being spiked or your drugs cut with it. For more UK information click here, or type naloxone and your area into google
  • Overdose signs – Knowing the signs of an overdose is also extremely important, so you can know if to use naloxone, call for help etc. Here are some signs of opioid overdose: pinpoint pupils, blue lips, pale skin, shallow breathing, snoring, unresponsiveness. Cocaine overdose signs and warning signs: elevated heart rate, rise in body temperature, pain in chest, nausea and vomiting, severe panicking, delirium, irregular heart rhythm, seizures. You can google the overdose symptoms of any drugs that may be more relevant to you or those you know to be informed. Bottom line is if you know or suspect someone has taken drugs and are now suffering from severe physical symptoms, it’s time to call for help 
  • Calling an ambulance – It’s important to know that if you call an ambulance for a suspected drug overdose, they are not going to call the police. In almost every case they will only call the police if there is another reason to warrant this – usually if the ambulance crew is being threatened. Their job and main concern is to treat the overdose. Saving a life should always be the top priority for someone so please please do not hesitate to call for help – you can find more information on what to do in the case of a suspected overdose here
  • Learn the recovery position – Honestly this is useful for all areas of life so just do it 
  • Needle Safety – you’ve probably all heard about not sharing needles. What you might not know is that many areas in the UK and US offer services such as needle exchange programmes to help safely and legally supply clean needles. If this is relevant to you it’s worth looking into 
  • Taking MDMA – Molly is a popular party drug, but it is getting stronger. I know we can all have some idea that something bad could never happen to us, and it’s true you are more likely to be ok than not. But it’s worth mitigating the risks. If you’re taking ecstasy it’s best to take a quarter – half at most – of a pill first, or dabbing a bit of powder to start feeling effects before taking more. You may find it’s enough. Also many people don’t realise that drinking any fluids (including water) can be dangerous on ecstasy because it can cause the body to release a hormone that stops it from making urine. Users should drink no more than a pint of water or non-alcoholic drink per hour. 
  • Mixing – Mixing drugs without knowing how they interact is one of the most risky things with using – including drinking alcohol while using other drugs. Before you mix drugs just have a quick look to see how they interact. Frank has really clear information on mixing below each drug so it’s a quick way to find out if you’re safe or not 
  • Drug testing kits – Buying illegal drugs means not knowing if you’re getting what you think you’re getting. Even if you’re buying from someone you have bought from before, you don’t know what you’re getting for sure. But don’t worry! There are loads of drug testing kits available to see if your drugs have been cut or are what you think they are. Just look up what you need to test and you’re likely to find results; local drug services may also offer free testing kits, and in the US you can get the fentanyl test strips for free from End Overdoses as mentioned above

So there’s some very brief and basic information for everyone. You probably know what’s most relevant to you, so here’s some great links to explore with way more specific information. Stay safe and full of love! Xxx

https://www.talktofrank.com/

https://endoverdose.net/

https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/types-of-mental-health-problems/recreational-drugs-alcohol-and-addiction/drug-and-alcohol-addiction-useful-contacts/

https://harmreduction.org/about-us/principles-of-harm-reduction/

https://www.drugwise.org.uk/harm-reduction-2/

Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

Why Do We Pathologize Pain?

We’ve come to pathologize emotional pain and human distress. That’s to say, we’ve come to medicalise it – give it labels that make it into a medical problem. And of course this serves a purpose in our society and our systems; I personally am hugely grateful for my mental health diagnoses because they help me understand myself and how I view the world. But the term ‘pathologizing’ goes beyond just medicalising emotions. It defines the problem that ensues from medicalising our emotions. 

According to the Cambridge dictionary, pathologizing means: ‘the act of unfairly or wrongly considering something or someone as the problem, especially a medical problem’. This is something we see in mental health spaces all the time, with very little awareness of it. The way we discuss mental illness is so often through an individual lens. We ignore how the modern world’s expectations affect what we see as disordered – for example a huge criteria for mental illness diagnosis is a lack of productivity. But productivity is defined by societal norms and expectations. We label someone as depressed, saying they have a chemical imbalance while ignoring the fact that they are living in poverty and perhaps if they weren’t their mental health would look very different. At best we say that these external factors are simply contributors and not an essential part of our human experience; we ignore how we define was is disordered or not entirely. 

There’s a million problems with this. It prevents us from trying to build a better world in a more informed way. It isolates sufferers and prevents them from getting the kind of care – like housing, community, less workload – that they actually need. I could go on and on about this (and I do quite often!) but today I want to answer the question – why do we do this?

Well pathologization stems in many ways from medicalisation. I think there’s benefits and issues within this itself, but it’s understandable why we do this. By giving clear criteria for diagnosis in a medical format it would seem we can more easily start a larger number of people getting treatment. Unfortunately this isn’t the case, but in theory this would seem to make that easier. It also allows us to have some kind of framework to understand ourselves and more easily find others who may have a similar experience – it has certainly helped me with this! And in theory it would help others have a doorway to understanding people with a mental illness by looking at it through a medical lens, so they would know how to start approaching the problem. Furthermore it also gives a structure for how we can syphon off funding for mental health care by making it a wholly medical service. All logical and on the surface optimistic reasons to medicalise emotional pain. 

But soon we see the problems come in such as trying to ‘fix’ people to medical standards too rather than to their own standards. We start seeing people as the medical problems rather than as people with diverse experiences. We try to fit people into one route for fixing the issue because that’s easier. Medical problems need medical solutions right? Medication and hospitalisation rather than community and economic support. We see them as scores and issues. And soon we are pathologizing them. The individuals become the problem they present with, and when the one-size-fits-all treatment doesn’t work, we assume it must be the individual’s fault. 

Maybe it’s just a natural progression from medicalisation then? But maybe it’s also a symptom of the way our western society functions as a whole. We are not exactly encouraged to see ourselves in the context of the world around us. We’re told we are individuals and isolated in many ways – so it would make sense that we see our problems as individual problems that need isolated solutions. So simply because of the way we have learned to exist in the world we don’t think to see our emotional distress as interconnected. 

Then of course, as already mentioned, we live in a society driven by productivity at ever increasing speeds. We have an intolerance for difference, for people who need different support or cannot fit themselves into the world’s expectations of them. So we need to label them as disordered rather than face the idea that the way the systems are running isn’t working. It negates society’s responsibility to change and accommodate. But the thing is as the world gets faster, the economy gets worse, pressures get bigger, more and more people are finding themselves with mental health issues. Do you really think this is a coincidence? The world is becoming more and more incompatible with human rhythms of nature, so more people are finding themselves in distress. But also if the expectations shift to demand more of us or different things from us, then whatever behaviour doesn’t fit those expectations ends up being labelled as disordered. 

And maybe it’s fear – we don’t want to face that we share emotions with someone with schizophrenia or bipolar. We don’t want to admit we relate to an autistic person, or can kind of see the sense in what that psychotic person is saying. We are scared that the difference lives in us too, maybe? And again – we have not learnt the skills to be able to conceptualise how others may live differently to us through their perceptions of the world. We have not learnt tolerance, nor we have not learnt to question the status quo – because it would threaten the status quo. 

I think we pathologize pain because it’s the easiest thing to do when everything else seems so overwhelming. But we can begin to change this simply by opening ourselves to compassion; opening ourselves to a different narrative. We are all human and we are allowed to have deeply painful, wonderful, beautiful human experiences. That means sobbing our eyes out or seeing shadows no one else can. Feeling does not make us the problem. 

Hopefully that made some kind of sense, my little brain ramblings on the internet. Sending so much love and support xxx

Posted in Uncategorized

Is It Really Ok Not to Be Ok?

You may have heard the phrase ‘it’s ok not to be ok’ floating around. I myself have posted it on my Instagram page. And let me make it clear – I absolute believe it is ok not to be ok. It is acceptable, and in many ways healthy and necessary, to feel the full spectrum of emotions – including the ones that would come under the category of ‘not ok’. However when I hear this statement, I bristle against it. I always have. Somehow the statement seems to place an onus on the person feeling the emotions to allow themselves to feel them. And yes, that’s kind of the point. The first step to healing is often simply learning to feel and recognise what we feel/ why. But this statement brings to the forefront of my mind a deeper problem – that many of us can’t allow ourselves to feel.

In our society, if many of us were to allow ourselves to not be ok, we would need time off work or school. It would impact our productivity in a capitalist system that thrives of productivity, that measures our value and worth on what we can contribute. And many of us simply can’t afford to take time off work, or miss out on education when there won’t be someone to help us ‘catch up’. If people can’t afford to self isolate in the middle of a global pandemic because of economic struggles, how are they ever to be expected to take a day off work for their mental wellbeing, until it is so far degraded they are forced to, or they have internalised any struggles so trauma continues to be passed down through generation and unspoken interpersonal difficulties spread in our communities rather than a strengthening love between us?

Then there’s the issue of needing support, emotionally. When current mental health systems are set up in a way that fails to individualise care, fails to help minorities, recognise the impact of societal structures on our mental health, looks to healing in the context of productivity and ‘normality’, and incarcerates those it cannot get to conform without true sympathy – with all of this, how are we meant to truly allow ourselves to not be ok if we can’t trust or rely on a system meant to help us? An incompetent system. And even when it does help us, getting access to care in the first place takes months or years.

Next comes the issue of how these systems have impacted individual psyches. Mental health issues continue to be on the rise. And I stress that I am writing about this not to bum anyone out, but because when we talk about these issues, we empower ourselves to build a brighter future. I truly do believe that. An estimated 50% of people will meet the diagnostic criteria for a mental illness in their lifetime, and pretty much all of us feel the impacts of the world around us on our mental wellbeing at some time or another in our lives (which in itself calls into question whether we over-pathologize human distress, but that’s a question to explore another day). After all, we all have mental health. So we need people to rely on, support networks. But it can be a challenge finding that in professional systems. Well then maybe we find that in our communities instead. That would be ideal. Except, we haven’t been taught how to support each other. We haven’t been taught how to build strong communities, or societies built on care for each other and working together rather than survival in a capitalist environment. And with everyone dealing with their own battles in life, it can be incredibly difficult to find our way through it all and build support systems. We simply don’t know how. But I believe we can learn. I have hope that with communities of people healing together, we can truly make ‘it’s ok not to be ok’ mean that – with none of this background context that I perceive now.

All your emotions are valid, and it is ok not to be ok. But it is also necessary that we continue to destigmatize mental health through breaking down the systems that compound the issues connecting it. Sending love and support to you all today x