Also, if you are going to date someone with a mental illness (or any illness) make sure you have accepted that they might not get better for a very long time, if ever.
Do not enter the relationship thinking that you can fix them or that they will be fine in a few months. Never do that.
Movies really give us a false sense of what happens in these cases.
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» For the Last Time, Stop Conflating Violence and Mental Illness - By S.E. Smith
A lot of conversations are being had in the wake of the horrific shooting that occurred in Connecticut last Friday, when a gunman took the lives of 20 innocent children and seven adults. The United States is having some hard discussions right now, in a year of awful mass shootings and a period of particular tension.

As always in cases of rampage violence, mental illness has been dragged into the mix, and I’ve been watching the Internet for the last three days with a growing sense of both deja vu and horror. None of the things being said are new — all of them are in fact very bone-achingly familiar — and all of them are extremely unhelpful, dangerous and counterproductive.
There are a lot of things I want to say about the artificial linkage between mental illness and violence; it’s a huge subject. But more than that, I want to drill into some of the specific things that have been circulating this weekend, and why they are wrong.
ON VIOLENCE AND MENTAL ILLNESS
Let’s talk about violence and mental illness for a moment, though, because everyone seems to believe that mentally ill people are inherently violent and dangerous, and that only “crazy” people can commit crimes like this. Gunmen in rampage killings like these do indeed tend to fit a profile — one of loner white men who feel disaffected. Some have indeed been in treatment for mental illness at some point, but being mentally ill — even severely mentally ill — doesn’t predispose you to violence.
A lot of anecdotes have been circulating about mental illness — something that affects an estimated 25% of the adult population at any given time — this weekend. The plural of anecdotes, however, is not data. So here’s some hard data on the facts behind mental illness and violence, courtesy of a large number of scientific studies conducted in rigorous conditions and peer-reviewed to determine their applicability, validity, and usefulness.
“The vast majority of people who are violent do not suffer from mental illnesses,” says the American Psychiatric Association. Substance abuse is a much bigger risk factor for violent behavior; in people with untreated mental illness (a shockingly large number due to the difficulty involved in accessing services), drug abuse is a confounding factor in acts of violence in many cases, not the underlying mental illness. Socioeconomic status, age, gender and history of violence are also more significant indicators of the risk of violence. In fact, mentally ill people are far more likely to be victims of violence:
Despite widespread public fears of dangerous psychotic patients, individuals suffering from severe mental illness are far more likely to be victims of violence than perpetrators of violence. One study revealed that they experienced violent victimization at four times the rate of the general population. In another study, 25% of those with severe mental illness were victims of violence as compared to only 3% of the general population. (Source.)
Your likelihood of being hit by lightning is more probable than that of being killed by someone with schizophrenia, a commonly demonized mental illness. In fact, “violence in the community could be reduced by less than five percent if major mental disorders could be eliminated.”
Each time an incident like this occurs and distancing language blaming it on mental illness and refusing to engage with other social factors is used, society pulls further away from mentally ill people. A study in Germany showed that levels of social acceptance for mentally ill people don’t go back to normal after such events. In other words, the stigma faced by mentally ill people increases every single time there’s a horrific event blamed on mental illness circulating in the public consciousness.
AUTISM AND VIOLENCE
There’s also been a great deal of misinformation circulating about autism spectrum disorders and violence in the wake of speculation about whether the suspected killer might have been on the spectrum. It’s important to note that, one, autism and mental illness are two very different thingsalthough comorbidities certainly do occur, and, two, autistic people are not any more inherently violent than mentally ill people. Or anyone else, for that matter.
The Autistic Self Advocacy Network notes in a response to the speculationthat:
Autistic Americans and individuals with other disabilities are no more likely to commit violent crime than non-disabled people. In fact, people with disabilities of all kinds, including autism, are vastly more likely to be the victims of violent crime than the perpetrators. Should the shooter in today’s shooting prove to in fact be diagnosed on the autism spectrum or with another disability, the millions of Americans with disabilities should be no more implicated in his actions than the non-disabled population is responsible for those of non-disabled shooters.
While some autistic people can experience reactive outbursts, these arevery different from methodically planned and executed violence. Anautistic meltdown is nowhere near the rampage violence exhibited by the killer in this case, and the false linkage between autism and violence perpetuates dangerous stereotypes about autistic people.
RAMPAGE KILLINGS AND MENTAL ILLNESS
Most people want to assert that “no sane person” would commit a crime like this; that’s simply not true. Even the much-touted story from “Mother Jones” (which I’ll be getting to in a moment) about mental illness and rampage violence could only come up with “signs of mental health problems” in 38 of 61 killers. As Kate Harding put it on Twitter, “That’s 23 perfectly sane killers U.S. needs to own.”
And what about that “Mother Jones” piece? With such unclear methodology and no information about how the data were gathered, what kind of criteria were used, and who evaluated the information, that 38/61 number is largely useless. This is the kind of misinformation that’s being circulated about mental illness — and people accept it because it affirms what they already believe about mental illness, which is that it’s inherently dangerous and evil.
And what about that very widely circulated “I am Adam Lanza’s mother” piece, in which a woman compares her son to a cold-blooded murderer in ahorrifically objectifying and deeply disturbing piece dangerously conflating mental illness and violence? This is not, as some people are trying to claim, a standalone narrative about one woman’s experiences; it is a statement piece being made at a very charged time, and one which suggests that mentally ill people like her son are dangerous and scary.
Ordinary people have the capacity to do awful things. And that is awful and terrible. And we should talk about why that is. We should talk about why it is that most rampage killers come from a very specific background, and about the culture of masculinity in the United States. We should also talk about the fact that all of the adult victims in this awful crime were women, and that women are disproportionately victims of violent crime, including rampage shootings like this one. It is not a coincidence that disaffected white men are targeting women.
WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT MENTAL HEALTH SERVICES ALL THE TIME
Here’s the thing. We need better mental health services in the United States. Mental health advocates, patients, and professionals have been speaking out about this issue nonstop for years. Yet, society collectively doesn’t pay attention until something awful happens, at which point the focus is usually purely about how to stop mentally ill people from doing awful things, even though the vast majority of mentally ill people aren’t likely to ever do awful things.
There’s no thought to the benefits comprehensive mental health services would offer to society in general, not just mentally ill people — nor is there thought to what those services might look like. We live in a country wherelaw enforcement are often tasked with providing mental health servicesand parents of severely mentally ill children are told there are no resources for them and they should call the police for help. Yet calling the police is extremely dangerous for mentally ill people.
We live in a country where it is extremely difficult to access services and to maintain continuity of care, two things that are critical for mentally ill people.
If your tooth really hurts, you’re going to be extremely persistent about finding a dentist, because your tooth hurts, you understand why it is hurting, and you want it to stop. You’ll make the calls you need to make, sit at the walk-in clinic, do what you have to do. If you’re having a mental health crisis, you don’t have the capacity to fight for treatment. You’re likely to end up homeless, using drugs, and struggling to survive. You will likely be victimized, and you’ll fall into the justice system, which won’t provide you with adequate mental health services.
Mentally ill people need stigma reduction. And comprehensive services including early intervention and preventative care, diversion programs, cooperative programs integrating experienced personnel at every level, from schools to colleges to workplaces. And social support throughout treatment. And a recognition that mental illness isn’t the end of your life, but treatment is a lifelong commitment, and treatment needs may be complex. They can also change over time, requiring constant check-ins and adjustment.
Mentally ill people need more than a band-aid solution thought up in a hurry in a reactive response to a horrible act committed by someone who may or may not have had a mental illness. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to see people taking an interest in mental health policy, but I am disappointed in how misplaced it is at the moment. If we want genuine mental health reform, we need to be covering it all the time, not just when we’re looking for a convenient scapegoat. News coverage of mental health issues is virtually nonexistent, and what coverage there is tends to be very poor.
By all means, let’s improve mental health services in the US. Please. We desperately need it.
But if you want to talk about how to prevent rampage violence, I’m afraid you’re going to need to move on to other subjects. Subjects like gun control. Like sexism and misogyny. Like how we talk about masculinity. Like how we model social behaviors. Like how we interact with each other as human beings
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mental illness is constantly either demonized or romanticized by society and there is no space in that dichotomy for real people with mental illness to exist without feeling shamed and invalidated and that isn’t fair
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"Despite increasing acceptance and public awareness, there is still a stigma associated with seeking help from mental health professionals. While mental health screening and treatment can dramatically improve someone’s quality of life, there is often still a very strong resistance to the idea. People may be afraid that they are “crazy” or that others will look down on them for it. They may have an irrational fear that they will be locked up. The truth of the matter is that seeking professional help is a suitable course of action in many situations. If you are resisting seeking mental health help, there are a few things that can help you move forward."
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Discussing mental disorders with other people and the way society views them.
Some people seem to believe that if you are open about a mental illness or disorder, then you are attention seeking or trying to provoke a reaction. They think you are looking for sympathy, shock, or pity.
This is absurd.
I am very open in the fact that I have an eating disorder, but I do not want anyone to feel sorry for me. Thanks, but no thanks.
Why should people with depression, anxiety, eating disorders, bi-polar, borderline personality disorder, OCD, or ANY OTHER type of mental illness have to hide part of themselves for fear of seeming like an “attention seeker”? Why should they feel ashamed of an issue that they have the strength to deal with every day? Why should they be made to feel like it is a weak or shameful part of them that should be hidden and kept secret from those around them?
Just because you suffer with a mental health problem should not mean that you automatically hide that part of your life and be made to feel uncomfortable expressing the things you have to overcome in your daily life. When people have a bad day, or they break up with their boyfriends, or have a huge fight with their parents/siblings/friend/partner, they are able to express their feelings of hurt and anger without fear of being judged. But when someone with a mental health problem has a bad day due to their condition, they feel like they are unable to openly admit about their bad day purely because it was down to a mental health problem.
Some people find my rather blunt way of stating my problems and talking about them matter-of-factly without appearing awkward or breaking down into a pool of tears quite unusual, but I am not going to hide who I am and what my day consists of just because some it is down to an eating disorder. I will not edit out part of my life simply because the way society is has caused a lot of people to feel uncomfortable when the subject is brought up. They may feel uneasy talking about it, but I have to live with it every minute of my life, so frankly, those people can get over it and realise that we all have problems in our life, and we should all be able to express them as much as the next person.I am only open with people I feel comfortable around which is probably the result of stigma.
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[Image text: “When you refer to your status as CLEAN you imply someone with HIV is DIRTY. End the stigma.”]
Good thinking. Sometimes we fail to realize what our words mean because we never stop to think about ‘well, what does the opposite imply?’, ‘what am I saying about everyone who isn’t me?’.
DERRIDA.
YES. I say this all the time. People with STIs aren’t dirty.
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So there’s this “missing” girl in the Sacramento area, and it’s really starting to bug me…
For starters, here is a link to a fairly informative article.
I would like to preface this by saying: I understand concern. My brother committed suicide. I know what it’s like to not only be worried for a loved one’s safety, but to actually lose them to themselves.
However, launching a huge campaign to essentially capture and institutionalize a legal adult is extremely problematic. This is a girl who was pressured into hospitalization, at no point actually seeking help from anyone. Being an adult, she chose to walk away and is now actively hiding from people. This is the case of a person being deemed mentally ill - and then having that used to take away her rights. There is no reason to believe she’s a danger to anyone except herself, if that. The linked article actively supports being able to hospitalize the mentally ill against their will. This is mental illness, people. Being treated as though you cannot take care of yourself. Being treated as though you could not possibly know yourself, what’s best for you, and what you can be expected to do. Mental illness means that you’re at the mercy of family, friends, and doctors. Mental illness means society will support them if they strip you of your rights and lock you away. Mental illness gets your children taken away, people will say you should be sterilized.
It’s OK to be concerned about the people you love. But remember that we’re people, too. Remember that we are not children. Imagine if every day was a struggle, and rather than support, people were constantly wary of you. Imagine being afraid of telling people how you’re feeling in case they want to take you away from your work, your home, and completely disrupt your entire life (you try to get a job to take you back after you were 51-50d).
Hopefully I remembered everything in the middle of a tough subject. I just want to reiterate - I am not criticizing people for caring. I just want people to understand that their actions are problematic. Their beliefs may be problematic. If you want to care for someone you love, you should want to be there for them, rather than capture them and send them away.
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» IMAGINARY NEIGHBORHOODS; ON DESTIGMATIZING MENTAL ILLNESS - By Marianne
Yesterday was No Shame Day.
I do not think I can do justice to Siwe’s story, especially not when it has been presented here. Suffice to say in this space that Bassey Ikpi started the nonprofit Siwe Project as a way to raise mental health awareness in the African diaspora. And the Siwe Project organized No Shame Day for people to share their stories.
Of course, I’ve shared my stories before. I talk about mental health on a pretty regular basis because the social stigma attached to mental health does everyone a profound harm. To deny that mental health is a part of our overall health is to ignore that our minds and our bodies are all part and parcel of our selves.
It’s easier for me, though still not always easy, to talk about these things because I am a white person. In fact, I’m a white lady - and, in recent history, the mental health of white ladies has been an often-discussed thing. I can’t regret the invention of the vibrator, and I do love The Yellow Wallpaper, don’t get me wrong. But the context for me to speak about these things already exists.
That’s why I think the Siwe Project is so important. It centers voices that mainstream mental health discourse does not generally represent.
This is why I didn’t post on No Shame Day. I want to support the Siwe Project and stand in solidarity with it - because I think that is vital. But I also don’t want to be that derailing white person talking about how they don’t have any shame. So yesterday, on No Shame Day, I listened.
You can search Twitter for the #NoShame hashtag, but that’s also used for some frivolous stuff. It’s worth scrolling, though. It’s worth listening.
There are many things that impact mental health. I’d say it goes without saying that racism and oppression are two very large things, but maybe it really does need to be said. Racism and classism and other issues of oppression have a huge impact on mental health.
I think about this a lot on the internet, when discussions of oppression get really heated. There is the famous Tone Argument – which basically is that your argument is invalid unless you say it nicely enough that the listener isn’t offended by your anger. It’s a classic derailing technique.
And it assumes that the person on the underside of that oppression not only has the vocabulary to have an academic discussion about something but that they have the emotional energy and mental well being to have that conversation in a way that doesn’t offend anyone. That’s so fucked up, y’all.
Every day is the right day to have these conversations. Every day is the right day to talk to people about mental health. Not only because having these conversations is the only way to get past the stigma, but because it’s the only way to make sure resources are out there where people can easily find them.
Having access to resources is only one aspect of mental health care, of course. I mean, being able to go to therapy is hugely important to me. And I don’t think I’d be doing nearly so well without it. But therapy isn’t for everyone and it’s also not accessible to everyone.
As important is the existence of supportive community. Stick with me for a minute here.
In 1969, Fred Rogers, of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, appeared before the Senate during a hearing on PBS funding. The video of this often gets circulated to illustrate how awesome Mr. Rogers was. One of the concepts he talks about is a neighborhood expression of care.
I believe in metaphorical neighborhoods, of course; I spend a lot of time in online neighborhoods. Supportive community is vital; no man is an island, as they say. Nor is anyone else. We need that community, that neighborhood expression of care, when we’re at our best and our worst.
Mental illness can be particularly isolating. For many people, one of the central messages of mental illness is that they are not worthy, they are alone, they are terrible, awful people who cannot be loved. If you’ve never felt it, I’m not sure I can actually describe how bone-crushingly bad that feels in a way that doesn’t seem melodramatic.
And, you know, heaven forbid I be melodramatic, right?
That’s how shame functions as well. It closes us off - we are afraid of how other people will react or we are reacting negatively ourselves, shaming ourselves.
What the Siwe Project does, by empowering people to tell their stories, is to broaden the mental health narrative and tell people that they are not alone. It creates a community, a metaphorical neighborhood of care.
Yes, I am painfully earnest about these things sometimes. I can’t help myself - I really do think it is transformative to realize that you are not alone.
If you do not have mental health issues, please respect the people in your life who do. You might not know who they are, but they are more than likely there. Some people have boundaries (unlike, say, me) and won’t want to discuss specifics - if you could quell your curiosity in favor of accepting it might not be something that person wants to discuss, that would be an amazing expression of respect and care.
In fact, if you DO have mental health issues, that same thing applies.
The stats look like this: about one in four people with mental illness will experience violence against them in any given year. That’s not great odds. The odds of violence against you go up based on public perception of your mental illness. And instead of being sympathetic, the public is usually more concerned that you are going to be the violent one.
I am going to keep having these conversations because that’s the only way to break down the stigma associated with mental health issues. I’m going to keep listening when other people tell their stories, because there’s no One True Experience when it comes to this stuff. We need a neighborhood expression of care. And we need to support other neighborhoods, too.
Yesterday was No Shame Day - but there isn’t any day when we should be ashamed to talk about mental health.
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» Mental illness, Disclosure, and Emergency Services - By Hexy
Disclosure is an issue that most people with mental illnesses struggle with. Stigma against mental illness is widespread, and can range from ideas that we are unreliable through to beliefs that we are downright dangerous. Mentally ill people can be characterised as liars, as unbelievable, or as unreliable witnesses, which is something that becomes an issue if we are victims of assault, sexual or otherwise. Our illnesses can be used against us in custody disputes. The list goes on.
Whether or not to be out about one’s mental illness in social situations can be a thorny enough issue when the ramifications are only personal. It can be difficult to ascertain ahead of disclosure how likely a person is to hold problematic beliefs about mental illness, and the process of dropping hints to feel out their beliefs can lead to one inadvertently sharing more than one intends. Unfortunately, the process of disclosure is rather permanent: once the information is out, it cannot be taken back. Information also tends to spread, and disclosure to one person may be unintentional disclosure to an entire social group, some members of which may hold viewpoints one finds oppressive. Mental health status is all too often seen as gossip, particularly if one has an especially rare or “serious” mental illness.
One of the more frequent and tricky dilemmas for people with mental illness is whether to disclose to our employers and people at our workplaces. On the one hand, disclosure can mean that employers and workplaces are prepared to deal with any issues that may arise from our illnesses and able to make any necessary accommodations. People with mental illnesses may also simply feel a sense of relief at not needing to hide, and a release from the fear that may be felt at being “found out” we attempt to keep our mental health status a secret. On the other hand, with stigma being what it is, persecution, mistreatment, bullying in the workplace, and even dismissal after disclosure are very real fears for many people with mental illness.
Technically, this treatment is illegal in New South Wales, where I live. But we see time and time again that the protections applied to illness and disability by Anti-Discrimination legislation simply aren’t applied to mental illness. In the media recently has been the case of two magistrates who have found their jobs under threat for displaying symptoms of bipolar disorder, despite seeking treatment and apparently getting their symptoms under control. The argument made against this particular magistrate was that he might go off his medication and begin to show symptoms again. This case and the media attention it is getting sends a clear message to people in the community who have mental illnesses: stay in the closet, or you will lose your job.
One of the areas of disclosure I’ve struggled with is whether or not to disclose in emergency situations to people like police, ambulance personnel, and people who are providing assistance. In the past I have done so, and it has not gone well. I have had police tell me to my face that they will not believe my report of being assaulted because I have just told them I have schizophrenia, and I have had police assault me themselves, and then tell me that no one will believe me because I have disclosed that I am mentally ill. I’ve had a little more luck with ambulance workers and paramedics, but still found that their training on psychiatric issues is sub par. Paramedics particularly seem to expect me to be dangerous when they discover that I have schizophrenia, especially if I’m in distress or crisis. I feel they should really know better. People with mental illness are not particularly likely to commit assault. On the contrary, we are more likely to be the victims of an assault than people who do not have mental illnesses.
The worst case scenarios for people with mental illnesses when dealing with police can be pretty extreme. In a case that broke my heart last year, a mentally ill man who was known to have a phobia of police was shot dead by a Senior Constable for holding a bread knife after his parents called the police for help finding him after he took their car and ran away. His parents had been quite sure that he would not harm anyone, and he had apparently not made any threatening movements with the bread knife.
The question of disclosure is a tough one. Police (at least in NSW) have a bad habit of telling emotionally distressed people that they won’t provide assistance unless the person calms down/stops crying (which I feel is completely unreasonable, especially if the person has been the victim of an assault) and it often becomes necessary to disclose as a way of explaining why one cannot just calm oneself from a heightened emotional state. On the other hand, this places one at an increased risk of victimisation by police who hold prejudiced ideas about people with mental illness, or who simply believe us to be undeserving of help or deserving of assault or abuse. There’s also the concern that I may need to disclose in order to access medication if I am ever held by police, although there is a question as to whether police will allow me access to my medication, as I have known people to be denied access to their meds while in custody.
One of my partners has voiced the opinion that, based on my past experiences with police, should I need their assistance in future I should try to avoid disclosing my mental health status in the hope that I will receive the treatment of a neurotypical person, which may be superior to that received by a person with a known mental illness. It shouldn’t be that way – police should provide equal assistance to anyone, regardless of their mental health status – but he may be right.