The quiet voices out there suggest the industry the system itself is at fault

http://www.madinamerica.com/2013/05/the-mental-illness-paradigm-itself-an-illness-that-is-out-of-control/

Paris Williams, Ph.D

Let’s take a moment here and look at the research. Robert Whitaker (in Anatomy of an Epidemic) and others have compiled extensive literature reviews suggesting that the kinds of chronic “depression” and “bipolar disorder” that we see today were apparently much rarer before the introduction of psychiatric drugs. What we call “depression” was apparently transient in the large majority of cases, with “relapses” were also relatively rare. And the more extreme forms of “bipolar disorder” that seem to be so prevalent today were also much more rare. The prevalence of such disabling bipolar disorder was seen only 1 of 5,000 to 20,000 individuals prior to the introduction of psychopharmacology, with 75% to 90% of these individuals going on to experience “good long-term functional outcomes.” And now? We find that 1 in 20 to 50 individuals experiences such disabling bipolar disorder, with one 33% going on to experience “good long-term functional outcomes.” This is an increase of between 100 and 1,000 times the prevalence rate since the introduction of psychopharmacology, and among these individuals, a greatly reduced likelihood of full recovery. In addition, it’s been shown that the use of antipsychotics can ironically increase the likelihood that someone will experience psychosis in the first place or move from a transient psychotic condition to a more chronic course (this is discussed in Whitaker’s Anatomy of an Epidemic and in my own book, Rethinking Madness).
So, knowing all of this (this research comes from multiple peer-reviewed sources and is readily available), how can someone as educated as Linda not even entertain the idea that the “treatment” itself, which most likely included all of the aforementioned types of psychiatric drugs and more, may very well have played a major role in the radical deterioration of her condition?  “100 different combinations and dosages of medications,” she said. Think about that for a moment. By acting from this entirely unfounded assumption that Linda and others who experience such crises must have some kind of brain disease, we attempt to “treat” the brain, which is of course absurd since we don’t even know what the heck it is that we’re treating. So we flood an individual’s brain with an array of highly toxic chemicals designed to make it through the brain’s natural blood-brain barrier and impact this extraordinarily complex and fragile organ in a ridiculously blunt and haphazard manner, and we call this “treatment.” Can we really be surprised that such treatment so often results in converting natural and transient crises into lifelong chronic “illnesses”? The terrible irony is that while it seems very likely that such crises are not the manifestation of a lifelong brain disease, the standard “treatment” actually ensures that this fantasy becomes a reality. After receiving such treatment, there’s is no longer any question about it: Now, you do have a chronic brain disease.
Actually, I don’t blame Linda for not making this connection. The tragic truth is that our society has become so entrenched in the “mental illness” paradigm that many (and perhaps most) people now consider alternative perspectives a kind of ignorant quackery. And yet, if we do make this little shift in perspective, moving away from the “mental illness” paradigm to the “overwhelmed by natural human experience” paradigm, I can’t help but wonder just how much more easeful and enjoyable Linda’s and many others’ lives may have been…  just how clear the absurdity of such treatment would become to anyone who took the time to consider it…  just how much more frequently people would stand up to such treatment and say enough is enough…  just how much rarer stories of such devastating demoralization, dehumanization, and intoxication would become.
So, if we act from this different paradigm that I’m presenting here, then how do we go about offering alternative support for someone who is in so much “psychic pain” that they’re seriously considering taking their own life (as was the case for Linda) or possibly even causing serious harm to someone else. Well, the current m.o. is to apply the kind of “treatment” that Linda received—a person overwhelmed by feelings of hopelessness and powerlessness reaches out for support, and what do they get? They’re stripped of any last remnants of hope and self-empowerment and provided with a new set of problems in the form of substance dependence and the particularly disempowering “mental illness” paradigm as a means for making sense of their troubles.
I admire Linda for recognizing her potential for self harm and finding the courage to reach out for support, and yet just imagine if she had a very different kind of support available to her—the kind of 24-hour “suicide watch” support she felt she needed but without all the dehumanizing, disempowering and intoxicating baggage that generally comes along with this. This is not a difficult thing for our society to make readily available—we already have successful models of peer-run residential homes and other types of homes that could function in this way (such as Soteria-style homes), and families and friends themselves could offer such support to loved ones in times of need. The cost of providing such places of refuge is certainly much less than the cost of psychiatric hospitalization—there are simply no excuses as to why we don’t have such places of refuge set up in every community and readily available to anyone who needs them.
And what about other kinds of support? Well, if we operate from the “overwhelmed by natural experiences” paradigm and recognize the innate wisdom within all beings that continuously strives for health and wholeness, then we can let go of the “I’m an expert, I’ll take over and fix it” role and instead explore ways to support the person’s own inner resources and honour their own wisdom and self agency. This is akin to supporting the growth of a plant. We can’t force a plant to grow or even to heal, but what we can do is provide it with healthy soil, adequate water and sunlight, and then stand back and trust in its own innate wisdom. Likewise, when a person is in distress, we can work collaboratively with that person and explore the ways that this person may not be receiving adequate nourishment, and look for potential “toxins” in their environment that may be restricting their growth. And along with this, we don’t attempt to reduce their distress to problems in any one realm but recognize that many different realms work together to contribute to the wellbeing or distress of an organism—psychological, physiological, relational, environmental, spiritual, etc.
And who knows, there may be occasions where some psychoactive chemicals may provide some benefit, but rather than pretending to “correct a biochemical imbalance,” we name the drugs for what they really are—not “anxiolytic” or “anti-anxiety” medication but drugs that will numb you out for a while, maybe help you sleep; not “antipsychotic” medication or “mood stabilizers” but drugs that will tranquilize you and really numb you out and make it difficult to remember what your problem was (perhaps); and not “antidepressants” but… well… uh… occasionally effective placebos(?) Let’s face it. Drugs are drugs, whether illicit drugs or psychiatric drugs. And what have drugs been shown to do time and time again? When effective, drugs provide some degree of short term relief and benefit but nearly always at the expense of significant long term harm. Sometimes that short term benefit may seem to be worth it, but let’s be honest with ourselves and not forget to look at the big picture.
The “mental illness” paradigm interferes with our own natural resources and innate movement towards healing and growth:  Linda’s story comes across to me as yet one more example (an excellent example, actually) of a person who experienced a natural though clearly precarious existential crisis—something that seems to be a hazard that goes along with being particularly sensitive and open in the midst of the “madness” of contemporary society. In her case, the existential dilemmas associated with death, loss, meaning, and personal identity appear to have been particularly potent.
The literature throughout human history is loaded with accounts of people who go through such crises as a gateway into a profound positive transformation and a much richer, more meaningful and more enjoyable life; and it’s also loaded with accounts of people who have a very difficult time integrating these profound truths and who go on to suffer greatly as a result of it. And when we look closer at this literature, we find that certain models for understanding these experiences are more conducive to successful integration than others. In particular, honouring the deeper truths that are so often unearthed within such crises and acknowledging the potential for positive transformation resulting from them has clearly led to much better outcomes in general than perceiving such crises as the manifestation of a diseased brain (I discuss this in great detail in my own book, Rethinking Madness). And yet we continue to perpetuate the very harmful “mental illness” paradigm, with all the toxic treatments, hopelessness, and self fulfilling prophecies that so often go with it.