Advocacy for the Crazy

I got into a small argument with a girl in my Social Work class (towards the end of it) today over Andrea Yates. I couldn’t believe how close-minded this girl was being, especially for a Social Work class. She was saying how she thought Andrea Yates deserved to be hanged and I brought up that Andrea Yates had had mental health problems for years before she killed her children. The girl didn’t care and even said, “Well, I could say that I heard voices, too.” Yeah, someone could lie about the stuff, but Andrea Yates wasn’t lying. I tried to explain to the girl that what happened wasn’t premeditated and that her problems contributed it, but she wouldn’t listen. How can she be an advocate for people who need her (including the mentally ill) if she refuses to take into account the problems that they have? I mean, she was all for sitting down with a person who dropped a dimebag and seeing what was going on in their life before doing anything like calling the cops on them, but when it comes to mental illness, I guess that’s just not important to her.

I got stressed out about the argument and it took me a while to start thinking clearly after the class. I guess I need to be more careful about arguments I get into. I don’t want to have a nervous breakdown every time I disagree with someone.

Oh, my mom thinks I should be in comprehensive care at the Mental Health Center. She and I had talked about it before, but I guess she thought that I was “sane enough” to be in the regular section. Well, on the drive home from The Ark this afternoon, we were talking about different things and I brought up suicide. Well, she asked me questions, like if I thought about it and if I had any sort of plan. Then, I said something about how I think about how I want to kill myself in every class, which she said was somewhat normal. Then, I asked her if it was normal to think about slitting your wrists in every class (and when I’m not in class). She thought that that wasn’t so “normal” and that I needed to be in comprehensive care. I told her that I had told this and some more psych issues (that are too private to be expressed here) to the therapist and that she kind of just glossed over it like nothing was going on. (I would tell her about things that I thought were serious and she would ignore them, while she overstressed working on other things, like getting out more.) Needless to say, she’s quite happy that my therapist is going into private practice and won’t be my therapist anymore.

Plugs: Andrea, Chels, Chelsea, Cindy, Jenb, Jo, Lexa, Lien, Tessi

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Janet Morris

I'm from Huntsville, Alabama. I've got as many college credits as a doctorate candidate, and the GPA of some of them, too. I have a boss by the name of Amy Pond. She's a dachshund. My parents both grew up in Alabama.

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