Release from the Renfrew Center
PHILADELPHIA, PA (February X, 2006) Experts at The Renfrew Center, the country’s leading authority on eating disorders, have seen a dramatic increase in the number of bulimic patients who are also battling substance abuse. This information supports the government’s recent findings that in 2004, adolescent girls surpassed boys in the abuse of prescription drugs, and more adolescent girls than boys started using marijuana and alcohol in the same year.
The results of The Renfrew Center’s study, announced in conjunction with Eating Disorders Awareness Week (Feb. 26-Mar. 4), illustrate that since 2003, the center has seen the number of bulimic patients with substance or alcohol addictions more than double. In 2003, 16 percent of the bulimic patients at Renfrew had abused drugs and alcohol as compared to 35 percent in 2005.
These numbers are especially large when compared to the number of anorexic patients who abuse substances. The Renfrew Center cites that in 2003, approximately 8 percent of anorexic patients reported abusing drugs and alcohol, which grew only slightly to 9 percent in 2005.
liz | 12:43 PM | Uncategorized
Signs of life from the Times
Two good mental health stories in the New York Times:
The Dilemma of Depression for Mothers-to-Be
A Teacher’s Fall at a Turbulent School
liz | 11:41 AM | Uncategorized
“Trolling for chicks on the psych ward”
That’s what they’re talking about on WYSP right now. A guy’s girlfriend (who’s “hot” but “crazy”) tried to kill herself and is now at Belmont. And the guy is calling the Barsky Show to tell them there are some really “hot chicks” at the mental hospital. No wonder his girlfriend tried to kill herself!
Barsky suggests the guy break up with her if she turns bulimic. Classy.
liz | 10:36 AM | Uncategorized
Dolphins, again
Since I started this blog, I’ve had the opportunity to talk about dolphins one time already, when I wrote about Tyra Banks’ strange phobia of the gentle sea creatures. But everyone loves dolphins (’cept Tyra), so here’s more.
A new study says dolphins remedy depression. (Not that a beautiful supermodel with a successful talk show has anything to be depressed about, but mental illness can hit anyone! At any time! Look at Anne Heche.)
“There’s no words to describe it. It completely changed my life,” said dolphin therapy patient Marcella Sandrin. Sandrin says her depression disappeared after swimming with dolphins off Hawaii. “For the first time, I really experienced unconditional love and joy,” said Sandrin.
Swimming with these creatures did more for her than anything else she’s ever tried. “I’ve done counseling and meditations and exercising. I am a much happier person. I don’t feel hopeless anymore,” said Sandrin.
Dolphins May Be Remedy For Depression [10news.com, San Diego]
[Photo courtesy * No. Pip, no!!! * (Ana María & Santiago)'s photos via Flickr.]
liz | 9:32 AM | Uncategorized
Song of the day: “Fireflies in a Steel Mill”
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An abandoned mill, glass windows cracked, dark at night, old electrical cords coiled like black snakes on the floors. The grit crunches beneath your shoes, you stumble over a wooden broom handle, wish for a light. Suddenly: a yellow flicker. Then another. What…? Fireflies. How beautiful.
The Elected’s “Fireflies in a Steel Mill”
liz | 4:11 PM | Uncategorized
Blobbing about blogs. No. Blogging about blobs. Yeah, that’s right.
I’ve had just about enough of those stupid Zoloft blobs. The other day I opened a magazine and saw a cartoon strip that said: “Zoloft has helped millions with depression. This is Cynthia’s story.”
Then right below, in small type, it said: “Cynthia S., age 57, Portland, WA.”
Then right below that, in smaller type, it said: “Story not based on actual person.” Huh?
So not only doesn’t Cynthia live in Portland, WA.; not only isn’t she in her 50s; not only doesn’t her last name begin with S; she doesn’t even exist!
Which means that when she says, “When Tom and I divorced…” we know the truth: Not only wasn’t there any divorce, there is no Tom!
Oh my God, it’s an existential mind-bender.
I wish I could punch one of those stupid blobs in their stupid puffy faces with a giant gummy bear that would tear their radii to bits. Or how about this match-up: Zoloft blob vs. Marshmallow Peep. Any bored animators out there? Get to it. For now we’re still laughing at this:
liz | 2:25 PM | Uncategorized
Buddha can
An earnest friend sent me an article from the World Tribune, a Buddhist publication. I know nothing about Buddhism, to be frank, but he’s found practicing it to be very calming and rewarding. He sometimes chants for my health, which is nice and (maybe?) intermittently effective.
The article he sent is about Kim, a ballet dancer turned drug addict who was diagnosed with both schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. In the piece, Kim and her mother Clare talk about how they found solace for Kim, despite the jail stints, hospitalizations, homelessness, hallucinations, etc. It’s a powerful story that, if you read between the lines, I think is really about how medication works to treat psychosis. The family ascribes Kim’s wellness to chanting and faith, and maybe that’s true too. But as a non-believer, it seems more likely to me that the “much stronger medication” was the answer. This story is also a strong example of the way mental illness impacts family members, especially parents.
I couldn’t find the article online, so I typed the whole thing in myself. Please read it (after the jump). My fingers hurt.
[Photo by awfulsara via Flickr.]
liz | 1:27 PM | Uncategorized
Special Effexor: A diary. Day 5.
This weekend was about 10 times better than last. I started taking the Effexor on Wednesday, after talking to my doctor about my concerns, namely the withdrawal horror stories you read online. “You’ve been through much worse,” he reminded me, referring specifically to the Klonopin withdrawal and the methamphetamine withdrawal. True, if I survived those—equally horrible in their own peculiar ways—I can get through a little Effexor backlash if it turns out I don’t like it.
Thing is, so far I like it. I’ve had three solid nights’ sleep for the first time in weeks. I feel more clear, and I haven’t cried once. The zipping and beeping and bugs are gone, which were perhaps as much a product of sleep deprivation as anything else. Alternately, the drug could be taking effect already, which would be great.
I feel more optimistic now. I’m still quite tired, but everything looks a little less grim and Moscow-during-Communism. I’d give the Effexor a thumbs-up for the moment. Wednesday I double the dose, so we’ll see. But let’s put it this way: Yesterday I baked a cake.
liz | 10:30 AM | Uncategorized
Stormy weather
I’ve always wanted to give blood, but I generally don’t weigh enough. So I look with longing at all those prone, pasty people, their corpuscles gushing into a plastic bag, waiting for the moment they can scarf down the from-concentrate OJ and a donut or two.
I’m constantly trying to think of new ways to do something good—to be engaged with social justice in the way my Quaker high school and hippie college taught me to. Now I’m thinking of taking a few days and going down to New Orleans. I got an email from an activist there, and they really need the help. I don’t know if I’ll get the chance, or be selfless enough to try, but if you have some time on your hands and are looking for a larger purpose in your life, here are some sites to consulte for volunteer opportunities. Tyvek suit highly recommended.
Common Ground Relief
Bayou Liberty Relief
Post-Katrina stress still weighs on New Orleans [Reuters]
[Photo via Kristin Breaux via Flickr]
liz | 9:13 AM | Uncategorized
Your stories: Joshua
I’ve been getting a fair number of comments in response to the posts here, and every now and then I like to highlight one that represents the feelings and experiences of a lot of the people reading this. Below is Joshua’s story, a remarkable tale of endurance and tenacity, and an ultimate realization that sometimes the illness needs to be the first priority, unfortunately. Thanks, Joshua, for sharing your story with us.
I’ve been reading your column for years now and it has provided me an exteremly valuable assisstance in my recovery from mental illness and my psychotherapy practice at a community mental health center.
Like you my main goal in life is making it day to day while offering hope and empathy for my severely mentallly ill clients. But my time for nuturing others is running out.
After 30 years as a practicing psychotherapist I find that I must, for my own recovery, admit that I can no loner perform my activities as a mental health specialist to the degree that I’ve subscribed. In 30 years I’ve seen it all and managed to find growth for myself and my clients. Now I’m coming to a lost for finding the gifts that I’ve offered due to the severity of my own illness.
I was permanently disabled for almost 10 years and could hardly function in life. After many hospitalizations, med changes and ECT I slowly regained my faculties and humanity and returned to work. I continue to endeavour to provide the best of care for my clients but I’m sometimes fighting a battle for my own grasp on reality that robs me of my sense of purpose in assissting others. When I’m with my clients I am truly there for them but my personal integrity is continually robbed of some of the most elementary abilities that allow a consumer to treat a very needy population.
My therapist, PDoc and friends and family are supportive in my sense that it may be time to end my professional career and move on to something that will be less stressful and more suited to the reality of my severe bi-polar disorder. I come to this conclusion with dissappointment and regret. I’m a good therapist. And also very ill.
I’ve had to withdraw from facilitating a support group as it was too much to contribute to the needs of more consumers when I really need a forum to help me with my own needs that were not being met.
I have five rescued critters that give me affection, loyaliity and hope.
I’m not sure where I’m going to wind up in the near future. I’ve signed up for training from the Office of Vocational Training but am at a loss to see what is in the future for a mentally disabled clinician who has met the end of his game.
Joshua, you are not alone. There are many of us pulling for you. I trust that you’ll be able to find a place for yourself even though it’s hard right now. We’ll keep you in our thoughts, and you keep us posted as to where you are.
[Photo courtesy jonjohnson via Flickr.]
liz | 5:00 PM | Uncategorized
