Thinking Aloud

How many people in this world, spanning decades, made it through deepest darkest despair & distress & trauma without any ‘medical intervention’? Please do not underestimate that too. When money is a driving factor in any treatment, it becomes a business, it’s no longer ‘care’. https://t.co/3sbfEpF2XH — Gisella (@ladiegiz) July 24, 2019 This tweet from fellow activist Gisella, got me thinking this morning, about how mental health professionals have positioned themselves to be the indisputable and indispensible experts when it comes to human distress and subsequent breakdown. But is that true or is it a carefully crafted illusion?  Certainly in recent days, I've seen many tweets from medics, proclaiming their vast expertise and experience, and suggesting that without a medical degree, no one else knows what they are talking about. But I challenge that position, and I'd like to try and explain why. The man standing second from the right with his arms fold

Before I meet a new client for the very first time, I remind myself of one most important thing. It is this - that I must shut up and listen - I am there to learn.  Listen not with half an ear and half a mind on what I want to say next - no. Listen wholeheartedly, to the story, to the feelings attached to the story, and to the impact the story has had on the teller.  If I say anything during the telling of the client's story, it might be to ask for clarification, or to check that I have understood something correctly.  It's called 'holding space' and I think that's a really good way of describing what happens.  As a therapist I have nothing invested in the space or in the client's life other than to have been engaged to support them, and I have no wish to guide them towards any particular outcome. If there is any 'expertise' involved, it is the ability to suspend judgement and to keep to myself what I might do in the same situation.  The experti

The last few weeks have been some of the most distressing and dispiriting periods on social media I've ever experienced.  At the end of May, we learned of the death in the Prescribed Harm Community, of our friend and sister Shelly Johnson, who lived in the southern United States.  Shelly had been experiencing huge distress in her journey of withdrawal from benzodiazepines, and often reached out within the  online community for support. Support that clearly was not forthcoming from elsewhere in her real life.  Of course, what we could offer, particularly from as far away as the UK, was quite inadequate, but little support is better than none, and we did our best within the limits of what was possible.  Shelly's life had become intolerable, that was plain to see - her support from family had dwindled and she felt isolated and alone.  She felt she had been blamed for the predicament she found herself in. But all she had done was take drugs that had been prescribed for her. Her vi

When I first saw this meme a few months ago now, it made me roar with laughter. And before anyone rushes to correct me, I don't for a moment think Freud said anything of the sort, not his style. But as a discussion point, the text no doubt has value. When I'd stopped laughing, I started to think about how true this is, and what an effect those around us can have - on our sense of self and wellbeing.  Whilst I'm not suggesting that people who cause damage always deliberately set out to do so, it can be just as harmful whether done intentionally or not.  Being knocked down by a car is going to be a painful experience whether it was accidental or deliberate.  Emotional injuries are much the same. A relationship that had lasted for over 20 years ended for me in the last months of 2017 when, although I had suspected it was coming, I was told that I was no longer wanted. That my presence was no longer required. I offered to leave and my offer was immediately accepted. It

Yesterday, the beloved children's author, Judith Kerr, died aged 95. She had started writing and illustrating when her own children were learning to read, and was a firm favourite with my own children when they were growing up, with stories like 'The Tiger who came for Tea' and 'When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit'.  Judith's early life had been eventful. Born in Weimar Germany in 1923 to Jewish parents, the family fled the country in 1933 to escape the Nazi atrocities that were becoming commonplace. After a time in Switzerland and France, they settled in Britain in 1936. It was a shrewd decision that her father, Alfred Kerr had made and one which undoubtedly saved the family. He had openly criticised the Nazis, and his books were publicly burned after the family had fled. When her death was announced on the BBC news yesterday morning, I felt a sense of loss at yet another well loved character from this era leaving the earthly realm. My own parents were born in 1924

Dear Wendy, On Wednesday night on Twitter, you posted a tweet about the levels of abuse that had been directed at you and Dr Kate Lovett. You didn't elaborate on where the abuse had come from, or offer any examples of it. Dr Lovett commented that “it was never a great tactic to start a conversation.” Hmm... I must admit, my first reaction on seeing it was anger. I had spent the previous two weeks, asking you and Dr Carmine Pariente a question that both of you chose to ignore. A question which had been asked initially by Fiona French, who has suffered extensive harm to her health as a result of taking prescribed psychiatric medication. We had asked for evidence of the extraordinary claim Dr Pariente had made during a Radio 4 broadcast that antidepressants were an important and life saving treatment for most people. During the broadcast he had also downplayed the incidence of problems of withdrawal from SSRIs, despite recent research indicating that problems are w