Drop the Disorder

I have grappled with the angle to take with writing a review of Drop the Disorder. Should it be from my perspective as Family Psychotherapist working in our NHS Crisis teams and struggling to have my no labeling stance heard or respected by my colleagues clinging to their DSM bibles of pharmaceutical damage?

Or perhaps it could come from my experience within education of working with families for thirty years, and witnessing younger and younger children meet the lowering thresholds for diagnosis and medications?

Of course my personal positioning and lived experiences invariably form my perspective. However, I have decided to approach this review, not only from my professional experiences, but also from my heart. This stance mirrors and respects how every chapter of this book is written from the hearts of psychologists, psychotherapists, experts and survivors through their lived experiences. Which all amalgamate into one essential, moral and passionate voice “I’m as mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore” (Network, 1976).

Hence perhaps a passionate book can be reviewed, unapologetically with equal passion? As I too am… Mad as hell and cannot take it anymore!

For the record I am not anti psychiatry or anti medications or any other ludicrous ‘anti’ that gets bandied at myself or many of the contributors within the chapters. No they, and myself are merely refusing to collude or validate unscientific diagnosis. We are all understandably concerned by iatrogenic damage, and are calling all of us to do something.

Chapter by chapter Drop the Disorder challenges the paradigm of the medical model and the medicalization, damaging consequences and social construction of disease. Who decides what is normal, why do we judge and reduce people who are invariably having an authentic understandable and emotional struggle from trauma?

The DSM-5 and the ICD10 seem to be categories that pharmaceutical companies have a vested interest in. These alleged ‘scientific’ parameters that have been indoctrinated into us as facts, are causing a pandemic of harm and should be in conflict with any and all medical professionals. Medications prior to communication is surely the antithesis to “First do no harm” and are contributing to a society of mental health bullies, an “us” and “them” that is devoid of humanitarian equality or respect. I wish I were exaggerating and all this was hysterical nonsense. However, I work on the wards where our most vulnerable are frequently injected against their will on depot, with their eyes haunted, their voices silenced and informed consent merely lip service.

A client cannot be classified in isolation of their systemic positioning. Our current medical model supports individualism turning a blind eye to social economic, political, or the culture and experiences of any given person within their communities. This corrupt situation exonerates injustices, and excuses our lack of collective humanitarian and moral responsibilities. Diagnosing, labeling and medicating distress in order to make it controllable and palatable is untenable, yet seems to reassure professionals that their work is moral. A white coat and prescription pad can be lethal weaponry disguised as care.

Individualism is celebrated throughout our culture, and the propaganda of medical terminology is seamlessly embedded in society. Frequently people throw medical pathologising words into everyday communications. An example being my new hairdresser this week who described the irregularity of my curly hair as “schizophrenic!” Even my hair has a disorder, although I would to be fair concede, that it can be defiant.

Indulge me with a quick rant/observation. Last week I had the unfortunate need to be at my local Apple store on the day the new I-phone was launched. I was baffled at the excitement and fever, and sat in vague amusement watching battle commence between the pre-order group, verses the turn up on the day and queue (for hours) group.

My sardonic stance was further enhanced by the large screen presentation of how to use the new camera features to take better “selfies”. I watched concerned and aware of the “me me”, “selfie”, “I” culture we all live in. I was linking it in my head to our model of diagnosing and pathologising the individual, rather than considering the situation and context. Somewhat ironically even the IAPT (Improving Access to Psychological Therapies) starts with the letter I.

Although our culture is engaged in their phones and our on-line lifestyle can be detrimental for our mental health or curtailing for our physical social interactions. Jo Watson has managed an important re-frame of our technological positioning, or as a Buddhist may say, She has turned “poison into medicine” via social media platforms that have collated an army of contributors and allies for this national campaign calling for change. A simple moral essential change to understand distress from a “What has happened to you?” perspective, rather than our biochemical model of “What’s wrong with you?”

Drop the Disorder is a brave piece of work, as speaking out is never easy and will often be met with numerous challenging emotions from those too scared or too blind to embrace change or acknowledge mistakes. However, this book cannot be dismissed as its contributors cannot be dismissed as lightweights. Not only can it not be dismissed, it should be essential core reading for all health care professionals or anyone with an interest to our alleged “Mental Health Crisis”. Which is really a pharmaceutical “Mental Wealth Crisis” and is corruption by any other name. The “Harmecutical” king has no clothes on!

There are too numerous respected and brave contributors to mention them all by name. However there are doctors, professors, an ex DSM-IV task force psychologist. Playwrights, poets, therapists, survivors, filmmakers, educators, philosophers, counselors and psychotherapists. Clinical leads, many who have been part of the health system for decades. But they all have one thing in common; our biomedical world has forced the moral and ethical practitioners to become activists and name the abuse of power they witness. These are people who planned to offer comfort to our vulnerable. Not to be coerced into diagnosing or disputing painful memories to label them as mental illness.

Drop the Disorder is not a book only for academics. It is a book for anyone and everyone. My review is from the heart, and as a poet myself; my favourite chapter is from Clare Shaw. She unexpectedly steers the reader into an evocative moving, heart-wrenching poem that had me riveted as the narrative unfolded. Her true account is so rich as she brilliantly uses language to illustrate the immense power of language. Reminding us all that the childhood rhyme was a lie. Sticks and stones may break our bones and words can frequently hurt us.