Now don’t get me wrong, I know there is so much more I could know myself, so much more education I could have. A masters in psychology (MA or MS), a doctorate (PhD or PsyD) (PsyD is just a more focused really study though don’t say that to individuals who have a PhD in psychology, they’re prone to arguing that point). And I, I only have my bachelors (BA, my University does not offer a BS in psychology).
Still, all things considered. my bachelors degree gives me a bit more knowledge about the things of psychology than the average Joe on the street. Now, I’m not bragging. There are folks out there with more schooling and therefore more knowledge in many areas of life than I have. But I chose to study psychology. So forgive me if I get a bit prickly when someone talks to me like they know everything and I know nothing.
I talked to my sister this morning. The first thing out of her mouth after I answered the phone with a “hello” was “Did you stop by Hollywood Video last night and get an application?” to which I responded with both her first AND middle names and followed her “What?” with something like “no, I was tired and forgot”. Now, what this has to do with psychology is this: eventually she asked me how I thought I was even going to be able to do a job if I got one seeing as how I’m so tired all the time and that’s all she hears from me “I just got up”, “I was taking a nap”, “I’m so tired”. My response? I’ve been without one of my meds for three weeks now, hopefully I’ll get some more some time soon and eventually get back on track (I’m having problems with insomnia at night, not fun, especially since I am usually one to go to sleep relatively early and wake at the crack of dawn). Besides, I’ve been tired all the time before and worked just fine, not that she would know (I was never very open about any of this mess until it became necessary). To this revelation I added a rider that I did not want her to discuss it with our mother, as they are prone to do.
At this time I am a little miffed at my mother whose ignorance and high-handedness is astounding. On her way out of town last spring after a visit she stopped by the house of a friend of mine (actually my campus minister and his wife) with the excuse of seeing their new baby (mom and baby weren’t in church that morning so she didn’t get to see her then). This past break between winter and spring terms I made the unfortunate (and idiotic) decision to share with a few of my younger cousins the fact that I cut (two of the kids have been getting involved with all sorts of good stuff and one of them wound up in the hospital from and OD which caused her to pass out and smack her head pretty good the day before I got into town). The idea was to get it through their heads that they aren’t the only ones behaving in a manner that isn’t healthy (the ‘you’re not alone’ thing, I don’t know) but that we all needed to find something better, something safer. Unfortunately I don’t think I thought it out well enough... Besides, as my mom was already suspicious that something was wrong with me (after all the piercings -yeah, two lobe piercings, a tongue piercing, and an upper ear piercing, woo-hoo-, the tattoos -all two of them, both easily hidden should they need to be, and my hair -a fun, different color and only part of it- are SO out of character... either that or I had a smothering home and didn’t have to chance to do those things growing up... I can imagine me dads reaction to some of it had I done something like adding some bright red to my hair in junior high... *shudder*). She was right, of course, but not about those things being out of character. I miss my red hair and I like my tattoos and my piercings. And there was a reason I was keeping it all from her. I know my mother. She over-reacts and is much more... ‘squishy’ (I have GOT to find a better word than that, seriously) where as I am more calm and when I”m not feeling up to par I usually want to be left alone.
So, my mother knew I cut and now, after telling me time and again that she didn’t want to stop and see the baby on her way out of town (“It’s weird”... uh, yeah, that’s why they suggested it... then there’s the fact that I kept assuring her it was NOT weird) she calls from the gas station (just a hop, ski[, and a jump from the freeway) and asks if I am SURE that it wouldn’t be weird and tells me she thinks she’ll stop by after all. And she thought I didn’t know the real reason.
Actually, to the best of my knowledge she is still unaware that, not only do I know but that I recently talked to my friend (and then ‘the other half’) about it. I needed to know how much she had told them. To be honest I didn’t have the nerve to ask anything specific. I asked if she really had stopped to see the baby and then responded to what he told me. I am still not sure that they know I cut but knowing my mother she wouldn’t have left that out. After all she told them I was drinking (the funny thing is that she probably had no idea how much -a lot, at times- I was drinking... problem is she and my aunts are a bunch of tea-totelers so any amount of drinking is cause for concern). She also told them that she thought that my study of psychology might not be the best thing, all things considered. *insert eye roll here*
For the love of all that is good and holy in this world! Seriously? Seriously?! (OK, one more ‘seriously’ and I’d become a Greys Anatomy quote) First of all I don’t really see the logic (and neither, I might add, does my friend who is currently at graduate school getting her masters in school psychology). Shouldn’t the fact that I know more about such things actually be helpful? Ah but see, apparently my mother thinks I am rather feeble minded, and for that matter, my sister agrees (by the way neither of them phrased it as such, that, my friends, would be my anger and some sarcasm seeping out)! My sister felt the need to tell me that she had read somewhere that the worst hypochondriacs (we won’t get in to the whole ‘person first’ thing here) are first year medical students. Hmm, OK, yes... Guess what? I heard that somewhere as well. And seeing as I possessed that little nugget or knowledge for some time BEFORE I started pursuing my BA I feel comfortable in saying ‘forewarned is forearmed’. Or as I am often fond of saying (and please don’t ask me why I have to count, it’s apparently just something I do) “ One, two, three: duh!” Then there’s the fact that, should you really want to you COULD conceivably find at least one disorder in the DSM-IV-TR that any given person has a tendency toward (like ‘boarder line tendencies, MDD tendencies) or you could just fall back on the good ol’ catch all that is present for most disorders, the ‘______ not otherwise specified’, the NOS category (such as schizophrenia, NOS. Keeping that in mind it’s probably not all that believable that, just because you meet one or two criteria required for the diagnosis of a disorder that you actually HAVE the disorder. Having said that I feel pretty confident in saying that I am at a pretty low risk for going ‘Oh my gosh!! I didn’t eat yesterday! I have bulimia!!!’ or some other such nonsense. Not to mention the fact that hypochondria itself has specific criteria that need to be met and I would be willing to bet that not every medical student that has ever felt a slight twinge in their chest and though ‘I’m having a heart attack’ has met, or for that matter, ever WILL meet enough of the criteria for a diagnosis of hypochondria.
Now there is a history behind all of this, this being my mothers wariness when it comes to pretty much all things that have to do with psychology, especially medication. I had a great aunt who had, from what I have heard, severe major depressive disorder. Now this was around the time when the use of psychoactive medication was relatively new and there wasn’t a lot known about it yet (to be honest there is still a lot to learn and some things we may never know exactly HOW they work, just that they do). It is for this reason, I believe, that this poor woman (and I am sure she was not the only one) had just about every medication in the book thrown at her, a lot of them all at once. Things got so bad (my family believes it was because of all the different medications) that when I was asking my mom about this aunt and she was describing it all to me it sounded (to me, any way) more like MDD with psychotic symptoms. Now whether or not it really was all the medications or truly MDD with psychotic symptoms (heck, maybe all the meds just made an existing disorder worse, I don’t know what she was actually diagnosed with and I’m pretty sure not many of my family members are either) I don’t know. I DO know that my family does not seem to realize that things HAVE improved since the early days, and hopefully are still improving. I’m also pretty sure that they will never really believe I know what the hell I am talking about.
Some time after learning that I cut and take medication (I still don’t know who told her that because I sure as hell didn’t. I want to talk about it with her as little as possible) she started talking to me about depression and medication like I had no idea about anything and that she knew it all (by they way, she isn’t all that keen on the idea that I take meds, thanks mom). However lets think about this for just a second here. I am the one that has lied with some sort of depression for something like 12 years. I am the one who has cut for two and a half (eight weeks free tomorrow, by the way :-)). In other words, I’ve had just a little first hand experience with this stuff. I am also a responsible consumer and once I finally allowed myself to be talked in to taking an antidepressant (and then two Ads) you can bet that I looked them up before I gave my final answer. Possible side affects, traditional dosage, even off label use (for instance, Wellbutrin is also used to help people lose weight and stop smoking and Seroquel, an antipsychotic, has been used to help folks sleep -I said no twice to it despite my trouble sleeping as APs can have some nasty, potentially permanent side affects... and since it turned out that once I was on Zoloft and Wellbutrin -a common paring if the SSRI (Zoloft) doesn’t quite cut it- for a while I finally made it back to normal sleep wise I am glad I said no). Now lets add to all this the fact that I am the one with the degree (yes, only a BA, but a degree none the less) in psychology... Probably, given all that, I know a little bit more about this stuff than either my mother or sister, or the rest of my family for that matter.
Sorry, quite the rant I see. I just wish they would butt out or at least acknowledge that I have even HALF a brain. Acknowledging that the evidence appears to point to the fact that I know something of what I’m talking about, maybe even more than they do... Well I don’t really think that will ever happen, but if it does you can bet I’ll be passed out on the floor from shock.
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