It's a difficult tool to use because asking for help requires a measure of self-awareness. You have to be able to identify that you are in a hole before you can ask for a way out. Once the situational aspect is addressed, i.e., where you are, the next question is transformational, i.e., how does one change and who can help.
There are a whole series of jokes about people in crisis asking a variety of specialists how they can resolve their circumstances. If they ask an economist, the solution invariably involves economic theory, a surgeon advocates for an intrusive operation, a politician promotes legislation as their answer. Everyone has a unique opinion and it is frequently a challenge to figure out how to make the best choice--kind of like picking a calling plan for your cellphone.
For some, the journey to self-awareness comes easily and they can move seamlessly into action, but these are less likely to be the people for whom help is required. I remember watching a performance of Penn & Teller where Penn--the talking giant--was juggling broken bottles. He says as part of the bit that he gets asked about whether he is concerned that he might catch the flying bottles by the wrong ends. He says something like that is unlikely, but if it were to happen, if he did catch one of the bottles by the jagged end, he would almost immediately let go of it.
For the rest of us, those less like Penn and more like lobsters in a pot, the recognition that our circumstances have become a problem comes on much more gradually. Instead of responding instinctively, we take the time to map the pot and appreciate the blending as our shells move from green to red. We don't know we need help until we catch a whiff of melted butter and by then the response options are far fewer.
I am forced to admit that much of my early thinking about mental health comes from comedy psychiatrist like Bob Newhart
and, later, Dr. Katz
. One of the earliest jokes I can remember is about a guy who rushes into a psychiatrist's office and says, "Doc, I've been having suicidal thoughts all week, can you help me?" And the doctor says, "Sure, but from now on, you pay in advance."The only other thing I knew about psychiatry was that they had sample packs of medications that looked like packages of Dentyne gum. I only knew this because my father had a sock drawer full of them. One year he took me to England and talked about how hard it was for him to drive on the "wrong side of the road". The pills helped him with that, he said. I don't think he ever had a professional relationship with a psychiatrist, but it seemed like he always had samples. Later, when my mother went back to school, got degrees in applied social science and became a trained counselor, my father would dismiss her chosen field as the "helping professions."
Once you get to the point where you begin to think about professional help then there comes with that the unasked question about what it says about you if you think you need professional help.
Although I didn't fully understand it at the time, I think this was how I learned about the stigma associated with mental illness. I learned that it was something to be made fun of, mental health was the obsession of celebrities and none of it was to be taken seriously. I don't think anyone ever said that if I was sad I should just get over it, but I also know that when I was sad, I was most often left alone to deal with it. (At least that's what I recall.)
Identifying the need for help and getting past whatever internalized stigmas you might carry are important steps, but they only serve to bring you to the next question and that is identifying what kind of help you need to address your situation.
There are many paths toward recovery and the "right" path is going to be different for each person. A quick trip through your local bookstore's self-help section will demonstrate that there as many therapies as there is shelf space to hold them. Recovery could also lead you to connect with a community of faith. Your path to recovery may seem, at first, more like a maze with many false starts and dead ends, but the drive to get out of the hole, or out of the pot, should sustain you through this period.
Kind of like Dorothy in the "Wizard of Oz
", you have the power to influence your recovery. It's most likely going to be more complicated than clicking your heels and reciting "there's no place like home" and there is a very real chance that, at some point, you could have your own encounter with flying monkeys but the only way to get home is go through that.Another thing that Dorothy had going for her was the support of trusted friends--see Connect with Others. At every step of her journey they helped her to make the best possible decisions.
For some, medications can play a role in their recovery. There are many success stories about the use of neuropharmacology, but there are also questions as to the risk vs. benefit of this approach. It is a subject to discuss carefully with your psychiatrist. As with most medications there is the risk of adverse side-effects and you should learn as much about those as possible.
Whether you are dealing with a social worker, a psychologist, a psychiatrist, or other mental health professional, it is important to have trust in that relationship. If you don't have confidence in the help you are getting then it is often possible to change providers.
Mental Health America of Licking County dies not provide direct treatment services, but we can make referrals to area providers.
I need to go home and walk my dog, so I am going to leave you with this short clip from "The West Wing" in which the late, great John Spencer tells a story about a man who found himself in a hole and needed help.
-- Graham Campbell
Associate Director
