Proud to be mad

October 9, 2009

More quotes:

790,000 BC, give or take a few years – Discovery of fire. Anyone crazy enough to take a burning tree into their cave and find a practical application had to have been dealing with bipolar. So, you nonbipolars out there, listen up: We give you the gift of civilization, and how do you thank us? That’s right. You marginalize us. (By the way, sorry we couldn’t get fire to you sooner.

John McManamy with a rather flippant look at Mental Illness Awareness Week. Americans reading this blog, go hug a nutter!


It’s the answer that’s the problem, stupid

July 29, 2009

Alison at Genius Gone Wrong has penned an insightful and very personal post about the link between mental health and debt.

For countless people with mental health problems debt is often a common problem, whether it’s just a case of day to day struggling to cope with simple daily finances or more serious debts from spending on credit and not being able to pay the money back. The situation gets worse and gradually as time goes on you find yourself scared to answer the telephone or open the post and as the time progresses you continue often to bury your head in the sand in the hope the problem will just magically disappear.

Been there, done that. I’ve struggled with managing my finances for as long as I can remember. I’m bad with money at the best of times (“I want it, so I’ll have it”), but this worsens at either end of the mental health spectrum. While hypomanic, buying things seems like a great idea – spending money to make money. This occasionally pays off (my import schemes of WeatherWriters and Firewheels), but in the majority just leaves me with a pile of crap that I had a fantastic idea about, but now have no motivation or use for.

Worse still, and what seems to be the opposite to Alison, is the depression that can seemingly only be cured by buying “stuff”. Everything from food to CDs to toys to the random, like tents and cars, calls out to you, claiming that it can sort you out and return you to the height of happiness. Of course, this never works, you just accumulate yet another pile of crap that you have no motivation of use for, and of course, a massive debt.

After several years of that, and an expensive degree looming on the horizon, I decided enough is enough, and started sorting my finances out. Recording absolutely everything I spend money on has really made me appreciate just how much money I waste, not just on the big things (which I’ve slowly been CBTing myself to stop impulse buying), but especially the snacking on chocolate and coke that still doesn’t manage to make me happier. And this is a good thing, because seeing daily how much money I (don’t) have, really is putting the brakes on my spending.

However, my point is this. Why did I decide to do it now? Just as I’m heading into a mild depression that is making me want to buy stuff. So I’m taking bets. Depression or budgetting – which one will win out?


Nervous tick

July 20, 2009

I can tell that I’m getting stressed at the moment. Not just outwardly stressed, but subconciously. How? I’m plucking my beard.

Much like a parrot, when I get down or under pressure, I start plucking. Though there are several differences: parrots are far more intelligent, better looking and easier to understand than me, and unlike them I luckily have an almost limitless supply of things to pluck, with my rediculously fast growing beard.

It’s a strange habit. I think it came about from when I used to pick at my hands – as a kid I had really bad eczema, and still get flareups of stress related dermitis, especially in my hands. I used to scratch and pick at that, until I had it pointed out that I was doing it to extremes, and it really wasn’t a good idea for my hands to look quite that red. Since then I’ve put some real concious effort into controlling it, as well as generally managing any flareups so they never reach a pickable state, and rarely catch myself doing it now. But instead of this, my subconcious “must pick at something” has moved onto my facial shrubbery.

As habits go, there are worse, more destructive ways to deal with stress. And it does serve as a useful indicator to me of when perhaps I should calm down a bit, unplug and try and figure out why I’m so stressed, especially when it gets to the stage where I’ve picked a bald patch in my face – that’s when I know something’s seriously going wonky, such as during the writeup of my master’s thesis when I developed a hairless circle a couple of centimetres across on the chin (on the plus side, it made me shave regularly).

Now I’ve said this, you’ll be looking out for my giveaway beard picking. My crewmate has spotted it a couple of times when I’ve been trying to keep things secret, but didn’t know what to make of it – you do now! :P But I was wondering, anyone else have anything similar? That little sign your subconcious gives you that it’s time to back off and chill out a bit?

Update: Apparently (hat tip to Anickdaler) this is a proper  psych issue  called trichotillomania, or “trich” (everything gets a name nowadays!). Similarly, the hands jobby is dermatillomania. Some people just do it, in others they can be caused by stress and depression, and it does occur comorbid with bipolar disorder - see here and here for more serious discussion. Awesome – I might be able to add self-harming and/or OCD to my list of mentalist attributes… ;)


More “stop taking your meds” from the media

July 15, 2009

Dr Joanna Moncrieff from UCL writes for the BBC today on the horrors of psychiatric medication. This is starting to be a recurring theme.

If you’ve seen a doctor about emotional problems some time over the past 20 years, you may have been told that you had a chemical imbalance, and that you needed tablets to correct it… In my view it remains more plausible that they “work” by producing drug-induced states which suppress or mask emotional problems (Dr Moncrieff, BBC News)

Ok, so that’s her view. So in the case of depression, SSRIs don’t work because they increase levels of the neurotransmitter serotonin, they just make you feel different. Surely thats the aim? And can’t one cause the other? But wait, serotonin has no link to depression!

Scientific research has not detected any reliable abnormalities of the serotonin system in people who are depressed

Really? As a doctor, I’d have thought  she’d have been able to do something as simple as use Google Scholar? In fact, let me google that for you

My core problem with this argument is the idea that a pyschoactive drug causes a change in mood as if by magic. Sure, something like an SSRI could cause a change in mood. It’s designed to be psychoactive, by being designed to increase serotonin levels in the synapses of the brain, hence changing mood. It’s like she’s ignoring the inbetween step of all pyschoactive drugs, that they have to do something to have the effect they do on the brain. There’s a link between low serotonin levels and depression. SSRIs are designed to increase serotonin levels. There’s a link between SSRIs and a decrease in depression. Employ Occam’s Razor and what conclusion do you reach?

However, I wouldn’t be all this ranty about the article if it wasn’t for what follows…

At the moment people are being encouraged to believe that taking a pill will make them feel better by reversing some defective brain process… If, on the other hand, we gave people a clearer picture, drug treatment might not always be so appealing. If you told people that we have no idea what is going on in their brain, but that they could take a drug that would make them feel different and might help to suppress their thoughts and feelings, then many people might choose to avoid taking drugs if they could

Again, this seems to me to be missing a fundamental step in the argument. It is known, to an extent, what’s going on in the brain. Something is going wrong. Chances are, it has something to do with crazy levels of particular neurotransmitters, given this is what makes the brain function. In the case of depression, plenty of evidence (see no evil?) is there to suggest that this could be linked to low levels serotonin, or norepinephrine. Hence, giving you a drug that may increase these levels will surely have a chance of making you better. The patient knows that the drug is going to make them “feel different” – that’s why they went to the doctor in the first place!

And talk of giving people a clearer picture? Pot, kettle… The article is in no way clear! It’s a very one sided take on the matter, with no suplimentary evidence provided. She’s an “expert”, so we, the public, should listen to what she says and take it as gospel. The article gives the impression that we’re not supposed to think, just do as we’re told. Way to buy into the media control over the public… and way to sell your book, for that matter.


Shameless melancholic moanings

July 13, 2009

Don’t know why, but I’m on a real downer today. Could be the waking up early, could be the panic of budgeting for next year, or could just be my normal “boom-to-bust” mood cycle on the way down. Probably a combination of all the above to be fair, been heading down for a fair while and the extra misery inducing aspects are usually enough to make me all moody and pouty.

I’ve no motivation to do anything: Work is happening because I’m on top of myself enough to make it so, but the drive to do all the other exciting plans I had has evaporated. Blog posts remain unwritten. Letters to save my ass financially next year are unsent. The funky new website header I designed is unmade. It’s a shame, as my last week is up there in the Best Weeks Ever hall of fame, I hadn’t felt so alive and amazing in a long time.

Mood disorders suck.


Mildly (by which I mean not at all) interesting genetics news

July 2, 2009

The BBC News are reporting that “scientists” have uncovered a genetic basis for schizophrenia. Ish.

Scientists have identified thousands of tiny genetic variations which together could account for more than a third of the inherited risk of schizophrenia (BBC News)

So there is a genetic basis to schizophrenia, a strongly heritable condition. Whoda thunk it? But wait, there’s more!

A similar pattern was found in people with bipolar disorder – indicating a previously unrecognised overlap between the two conditions…. “If some of the same genetic risks underlie schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, perhaps these disorders originate from some common vulnerability in brain development.”

So the two are pretty similar in terms of diagnostics and brain behaviour, and so are rather unsuprsingly genetically similar too? Again, quelle suprise!

To be fair, I’m being deliberately anti this article, just because it is almost entirely real content free. Here’s the Real Thing, but unfortunately most people won’t be able to get at it, so I’ll stick with taking the piss out of the sugar coated, genetics for morons BBC version. However, poking fun at bad science reporting aside, this research is pretty interesting (for a limited value of interesting), as although it was guessed that the two illnesses were a) similar and b) at least partially genetic in cause, it’s nice to actually have some solid evidence towards this, and fingers crossed it may help figure out better treatment and management of the two.

More excitingly (again, using the word slightly out of context), is the location of the genes involved.

All three studies highlight genes found on Chromosome 6 in area known as the Major Histocompatibility Complex, which plays a role in the immune system, and in controlling when other genes are switched on and off.

Now my very basic (I didn’t even do A-level biology, remember) knowledge of genetics suggests that there is something more complicated going on that what I’m about to say, but I’ll go with it anyways: Could this have something to do with my allergies (or vice versa)? Immune disorder andmental health issue that is, apparently, at least caused by an immune problem… Any geneticists out there fancy helping out here?

On a side note, while searching for pictures to illustrate this diatribe, I found thisPET scans of someone with type II bipolar switching from depression to hypomania:

Pretty brain scan things

Pretty brain scan things

Nothing really to say about them, they’re just pretty. I want one.


How to disappear completely?

June 24, 2009

I have a dilemma with regards to blogging. I’ve always been proud of myself for blogging under my real name about things that may well get (and in fact have got) me into “trouble”: behaviour that some, especially prospective employers, may deem unpleasant; problems with organisations I’m part of; and in particular trying to be blunt about medical issues and how they effect me.

Unfortunately, as readership of this blog has grown, so has the number of people I love and care about reading it. And this is making me reluctant to post such frank descriptions of the effects of bipolar disorder on me, for fear of upsetting and offending those who I come into contact with every day, and in a way also biasing the view people will have of me on my attempts to enter a medical career.

Now I still want to blog about mental health. It’s excellent cathartic therapy for me. And I also feel that I’m making some form of difference, that by being honest about the effects on my relationships, jobs and education someone else may be able to get something from my experiences and mistakes. But my worries are stopping me doing this to such an extent as I’d like to.

Right now, the question is this: Do I turn Dysphoric Mania into an “about me, minus the unsavoury parts” and adventure into medical school blog, and move the ranting of a lunatic off somewhere else like The Icarus Project where I can moan away to my heart’s content? Or do I keep my mentalist ravings here, and hope to hell it doesn’t upset people? Perhaps maybe there’s a middle ground?

Both options have their merits – moving would allow me to feel much more free to let go, and hence be better writing therapy for me. But then I would lose the altruistic aspect of wanting to help others, which is something I feel I could really do, especially embarking in medicine and having to overcome the mental health stigmas there. Plus I like the feeling of actually knowing a bit about bloggers, their names and personalities, so I guess that people must appreciate that bond with me and my writings.

So I’m opening this up – what do you think I should do then?


Anyone else want to smack Andrew Scull?

June 16, 2009

The Times is really going down the pan. The standard of journalism has been slipping since before I left for university, and the switch from broadsheet to tabloid format just highlighted their slip from a serious newspaper into the relms of their sister publication, The Sun, and the numerous free papers that one can pick up on a ten minute stroll through London.

So I read the article in the Times Literary Supplement on “The Madness of Big Pharma” with little expectation of fair, balanced, well informed writing. But even with that mental steeling msyelf, I was still enraged.

Under the pretence of reviewing the book Mania, written by renounded pyschiatric whistle-blower David Healy (who is actually a bit of a knob, but that’s a completely seperate rant), Andrew Scull goes on that old rant of how mental illness, in particular “manic-depressive psychosis” (which he then explains is the common term for bipolar disorder disorder – someone really needs to tell the mental health community we’ve been going with the wrong name all along), is actually just a form of weakness, and if we’d all man up and chuck away the meds – which aren’t actually working, of course – then the world would be a brighter place for everyone.

I’m so angry, I’m having trouble writing in a sensible and coherent manner without resorting to name calling (you dick, Andrew) and SCREAMING IN ALL CAPS about how for some reason a literary journalist is qualified to discuss mental illness in such a frank and demeaning way. Luckily, a guest post is up over at Mental Nurse which does much better at it:

It’s a hatchet job, from the arts and entertainment section of the Times – specifically, the Literary Supplement – of the diagnosis of manic depression, done by being quite selective about what is actually mentioned about the book in question…

I love “a disease (if such it be)”. Because of course, here we get to the nub of the matter. I’m not really ill, it’s not really a disease, I’m just either a poor wee victim of the evils of big pharma, or alternatively, a malingerer who needs a kick in the arse, or again someome who has caused themselves problems in their life and needs some therapy so I can talk about how I feeeeeeel…

Why is it so damned important to people at the Times that I happen to take medication for my disorder? Why do we see article after article in the media, on one pretext or another, that promotes the view that mental illness is not real, that mental illness is not as severe or not as big a deal as sufferers say it is, or that taking medication for it is evil, or a crutch, or an excuse for not wanting to “confront” one’s issues because therapy is so much work etc etc etc? (DeeDee Ramona)

Go over there. Read it. Comment on it. Repost it. Because the more people that actually get how mental illness works, how it effects sufferers and those around us, and how similar it actually is to “real” illnesses like asthma and diabetes, the less likely we are to get articles like the above published and the more likely it becomes that treatment will be taken seriously and become more and more effective.

But returning to my diatribe, in conclusion I’m sorry Mr Scull that I’m making your world so distasteful by my support for big pharma, but I quite like my Lamictal and being a fully functioning member of society. I can prove it works, both by independant medical studies (PubMed can help you here, but surely you already know this as a medical journalist. Oh, wait…) and my own personal experience (stable with the drugs, unstable when I stop seems good enough for me) so whether you like it or not I’m going to keep treating my chronic mental illness in the same way you’d treat any other chronic physical illness.

Oh, and finally? Laura Anderson of Charlottesville, US: BPD is short for borderline personality disorder, a completely seperate illness with completely seperate methods of treatment. Though I should expect that kind of ill-informed behaviour from Have Your Sayers by now…


Mixed states: Bad for your health, worse for your bank balance

April 15, 2009

Representing my thoughts by the “inner monologue” is a bit tricky here. More the inner dialogue:

Depressed Nick: You know what would cheer you up? Buying stuff!
Manic Nick: You’ve just passed your driving test. Hence you need, and I’m sure can afford, a car!
Depressed Nick: Hey! Manic Nick just had an idea for something you can buy
Manic Nick: Yeah! Buy a car! Cheer you right up, that will
Sensible Nick: But in this current economic climate? Without a definite job?
Depressed Nick: Buy me stuff! I’m sad
Manic Nick: Buy a car! Buy a car! Buy a car!

You can see where this is going, yeah? Well no! I haven’t bought a car! I did this by stopping my computer allowing me to visit Autotrader, Gumtree or eBay… Blunt, but effective.

Though I did buy myself a DVD when I went food shopping.


Let’s talk about death, baby

March 1, 2009

Can you think of a touchier subject than suicide?

Religion? Politics? Race? An old man’s range of interesting skin diseases? It’s up there on the dinner party list of things not to say under any circumstances. But we don’t mention it in the same way – “don’t talk about religion or politics in polite conversation” (let’s leave the skin diseases for now) – because as a society we try and ignore it, push it out of our minds. It’s not something nice people do, is it?

Shhh! Nice people don't behave like that!

Shhh! Nice people don't behave like that!

But I want to talk about suicide here. Now I may be preaching to the converted here, as lot of the readership of this blog have had experiences with suicide. However, it’s a growing problem which needs to be talked about within so-called “polite society”. It’s a much bigger problem than most people dare to imagine. Every 40 seconds someone tops themselves. Following RTCs, suicide is the biggest killer of 16-24 year olds, that key age-group that we really need to keep alive if only to support the growing number of ill and retired ;)

Suicide, and mental health in general, is slowly sneaking it’s way into the public eye. Remember the 1 in 4 campaign? Time To Change? The work of Rethink? But leaving aside the wider topic of mental health, do we really understand why people try to, and succeed in, killing themselves? Awareness is all well and good, but how can we try and change things if we don’t have the foggiest to the underlying mechanism?

Which is why I had such high hopes when I spotted in my RSS feeds this article: Why do some people kill themselves?

Suicide has always been a conundrum for psychologists and other researchers interested in human behaviour. Self-preservation is one of the strongest human instincts, so the drive to commit suicide must be even more powerful. But what causes it? … More recent explanations have tended to focus on factors such as depression, hopelessness and emotional pain, but none of them have had much success in answering the fundamental question about suicide: why do some people kill themselves while others in seemingly identical circumstances do not? (New Scientist)

The article centres around research into anorexia and Thomas Joiner’s attempt to design a “grand theory of suicide”. But does it really tell us anything we don’t already know? The key points regarding someone who commits suicide:

  • They feel depressed and hopeless at the time. In many, this is due to a mental health condition.
  • They have a serious desire to die. They may feel like a burden on others, yet isolated.
  • They must be capable of doing it – overcoming the self-preservation instinct.

The final point is the “groundbreaking” part of the work. It’s something so obvious yet missed, I know at least by me, when considering suicide. Not capable as in the means, but capable of overcoming something hard-wired into any animal’s brain eons ago, that dying is a bad thing for a body. And importantly, it’s something we as carers for someone who wants to kill themselves, or even as people who know that at somepoint soon the dark cloud will descend, can work at changing.

How does one overcome this instinct then? Two methods are suggested. Firstly, there’s essentially desensitisation – “building up” to the, for want of a better word, killer blow with smaller overdoses, self harm events, cry’s for help. I’m not sure I’m a fan of this idea, mostly because it trivialises unsuccessful genuine suicide attempts and ranks them alongside the SLG behaviour after a couple of Lambrinis and an argument with boyfriend-of-the-week. But it may have some milage, if we look at overcoming this instinct in a similar way to overcoming the bodies response to any noxious stimuli, causing pain to an area can numb the pain in the future.

The second is similar yet different. One becomes accustomed to painful or scary experiences, for example soldiers, police offices, doctors, all of whom have higher than normal suicide rate. Joiner describes this as a “steeliness” in the face of things that would intimidate most people.

Canonical "mental steeliness" - soldiers and PTSD

Canonical "mental steeliness" - soldiers and PTSD

Here’s where the anorexia link comes in, as a way to discriminating between the two hypothesis. People who suffer from anorexia are more likely to die from suicide than the “average” member of society. Sad but true. So according to the theory outlined above, either anorexia sufferers have weakened their body in such a way that a normal suicide attempt rate leads to more successes, or they’re psychologically inured to pain so they’re more capable of doing what is necessary.

Turns out that, for at least the small sample looked at, it’s the latter. The suicides were done in such a way that the physical frailty of the body was of no consequence, the technique used would have killed anyone regardless of how fit and well their body was. The reason that so many anorexia sufferers die isn’t because their body is easy to kill, but because their brain is.

So let’s go back to the three apparently simple bullet points (bad turn of phrase) for assessing the person who commits suicide. They’re depressed; tick. The desire to die is there – the illness itself leads to isolation (think of how much social behaviour is centred around eating and drinking?) and the sense of being a burden on those worried about you, forcing you to eat; tick. And finally, the mental strength to be capable of doing it, not only due to the physical pain inflicted on the body by starvation and malnutrition but also the psychological pain that eventually means that the body’s self preservation is weakened or all-together packed up and gone; tick. The same thing is seen in bulimia sufferers, with the same proposed mechanism.

In answering my original question, is the article telling us anything we don’t already know, I’d utter a surprised yes. The whole thing looked so simple at first glance, another science watered down for the idiot New Scientist affair, but looking deeper into it the whole idea of overcoming that self-preservation instinct is one of those “d’oh!” moments – so obvious that everyone has missed it.

What does this mean? Well, as Joiner himself says at the end of the article, it’s still just an idea that needs more work.

“It’s a start,” he says of the evidence assembled to date. “But we need something much more systematic.”

But as a concept, it makes sense, and as such is something we can start to address right away as both friends and carers of the suicidal, and as those who know that at some point that dark cloud is going to descend whether we like it or not.

A lot of suicide prevention is concentrated on the first two points. We try and stop people feeling depressed by any method from the well-intentioned yet poorly thought out, “yeah, but at least you’re not as bad as those poor starving kids in Africa”. or even worse, “pull yourself together”, to pharmacological means to counseling or talking therapy. And we attempt to address that desire to commit suicide, by trying to involved the depressed person in life more and to make it clear that they really aren’t a burden, we just care about them.

But do we ever think to address that capability to commit suicide? We try in a way, removing the physical objects used, the knives and medications, but I don’t think we ever consciously look at the person’s mental state and how that allows them to successfully commit suicide.

Can we do that? As is always the answer, we can talk to the depressed person. Try and overcome this psychological “strength” – I know I could do with someone to just sit and listen to me rant about all the things in my job and in my personal life that “steel” me against the outside world, that make me bring down the mental shutters and turn into one of those PTSD-like “survivors” who have the mental resolve to overcome the body’s want to stay alive because we’ve already seen too much. Being less narcissistic, I can several people immediately spring to mind who could do with a good rant in the same way. And now I’m thinking beyond that superficial, and how this could help others who are inured to psychological pain in deeper ways…

But then it comes down to how good a talker you are (or I guess more importantly, listener and reacter you are), and we go straight back to that “silver bullet” of mental health – appropriate therapy.

So my conclusion seems to be more therapy is needed. Perhaps I should go work for NICE?