“Eventually Dr. Kaplan decided I was well enough to be released. I was still on a massive dose of Haldol. They sent me off with a big bag of pills. I went to live at my mother’s place.
I was crazy when I got locked up, but not sick. Now I was definitely sick. I hurt all over. All I could do was sleep, eat, and watch TV. I’d watch any old thing - game shows, soap operas - stuff I’d never dreamed of wasting my time on in my old life.
I slept over at Jay’s sometimes. Once I got up in the middle of the night and walked, naked, across the townhouse complex where he lived, and sat in a sandbox and wept. It didn’t matter what I did, because everyone knew I was nuts. No one came by, anyway. I brushed the sand off myself and went back to bed.”
— Irit Shimrat, Call Me Crazy: Stories from the Mad Movement, p 16.
Call Us Crazy: Mad movements organize against mentalism, ableism, and more | The Dominion -
Abla Abdelhadi, a Palestinian activist living and organizing in Ottawa, has been surprised by the lack of support for her in dealing with mental health related issues.
“It’s almost like, ‘Get better, and then when you do get better, come back and join us,’ as if struggling through and surviving through having mental health issues—in a capitalist, colonial, racist society—has no room in our struggles, and we don’t often talk about that,” she said.
Abdelhadi says she experienced criminalization, detainment, forcible hospitalization, assault and torture during her first manic episode while visiting the US two years ago. Since then, she has also experienced ableism within the activist community while dealing with trauma and working to fight her charges, fundraise and find support.
“It was like a wake-up call,” said Abdelhadi. “It…made me realize why we need to talk about community interdependence, and why all our movements have to have disability justice intersecting everything we do.”
“For Abdelhadi, mental health activism needs to be rooted in a framework that recognizes the interconnection of structures of violence and works to dismantle them, drawing upon the analysis of disability justice writer and organizer Mia Mingus, a queer physically-disabled woman of colour. Better access to mental health resources is important, says Abdelhadi, but so is understanding how ableism is interconnected with racism, colonialism, capitalism and cis-gendered heteropatriarchy.”
(via sister-bell)
AnonymousHello!! Thank you so much. This is a GREAT question and I apologize for the delay in answering it. Though I have journaled a lot about this, and written publicly a little bit in the past, I didn’t want to just regurgitate the same response so I’ve been pondering. A mad scholar, Shayda Kafai, has a little footnote in her recent essay (“The Mad Border Body: A Political In-betweeness”) published in the Disability Studies Quarterly. She says this:
“I have chosen to use the term “madness” as opposed to “mental illness” for several reasons. Mental illness is language that is entrenched within the medical model. Madness on the other hand, while it was used as a derogatory term, has been reclaimed. Similar to the term queer, madness, in its reclamation and re-appropriation by individuals from within the community possesses agenic power.”
Which I think is a really good distinction between the terms!
I definitely identify as both mad and mentally ill, and also as “in and out of the attic.” I think a big part of the difference is what is being framed and how. mental illness is a term offered by the medical model, and it is part of a history of psychiatry which seeks to treat/cure illness, which sadly often has translated to punishing & disciplining mentally ill people. The psychiatric home of the term “mental illness” is involved with a very asymmetrical power relationship, with the doctors and professionals being the ultimate authority. Basically the mental-illness-narrative is authored by doctors treating the “insane” as what some people call “the known”, or as experiments. Madness is a reclamation of power, like the Disability rights movement’s favored political slogan, “nothing about us without us.”
Doctors historically have very cause-and-effect ideas about symptoms. An example of this might be like… abuse creates trauma which creates mental illness. While this is true for many people, its use as a medical narrative is actually very limiting for people. Solutions from the medical model often involve correcting a traumatized and mentally ill person’s symptoms because their symptom-expression is inconvenient for society, instead of social-justice based solutions, which involve changing society so people stop getting abused and traumatized. Signifying something outside of the medical paradigm is political. As a “mad” person I have more agency, I am reclaiming. As a mentally ill person I am constrained to a narrative in which I am an object of someone else’s study.
I also think that a mad identity is a dis-identification with sanity. Whereas a lot of stuff with mental illness is like… trying to get access to sanity. Identifying as mad is kind of like.. if sanity involves me being a specimen you are trying to “heal”, then i don’t want to be sane. I can be mad, healed, and love myself, all without being sane.
I truly support you embracing any stigmatized term! Both mental illness and madness are stigmatized. I’m mentally ill, but if I say mad it conjures up my symptoms, expressions, and politics at the same time, and I really like that.
I have further nuances with how I identify within a mental illness framework also. My constellation of symptoms and expressions has been interpreted in the medical model/ Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, as “bipolar II”. In addition, I feel that I AM bipolar II, I feel that I am manic depressive, and more specifically hypomanic. So I’m like ok, I’m bipolar II. However, I ALSO identify with the Borderline Personality Disorder community, though not actively AS borderline. This is because I was sent to a psychiatric lockdown facility as a teenage girl, and like most young girls-interrupted & sent to in-patient, I was diagnosed and given a treatment plan around my supposed borderline symptoms (and “Defiance Disorder Not Otherwise Specified” and several others over the course of my time there). So even though I do not agree that I am or have borderline, I identify very strongly with that community, and I have symptom overlap & treatment overlap with them. This is perhaps a bit tangential, but I wanted to illustrate how complicated a mad/mentally ill locations can truly be, and that it is OK for you to develop, research, edit, strengthen, whatever, the words you use to describe yourself.
I absolutely think mental illness is a disability. In fact, Lawrence Carter-Long, a disability advocate and activist with a physical disability, said something along the lines of madness is the final frontier of the disability movement during his representations-of-disability-in-film retrospective.
In short, I believe I have a disability because some things are ridiculously hard for me. I have joked: “come defeat me in a game of gin rummy and you will see” hahaha. But honestly more importantly, I believe I am disabled because societal structures pathologize my expressions. For example, my work ethic confronts capitalist notions of value, productivity, time, etc. I have been fired from or sometimes weirdly quit every job I’ve ever had. I’ve had terrible intrusive strange experiences with landlords in many of my living situations (which in a more socialized/socialist paradigm I’m pretty sure might qualify me for some help, but not really in the U.S.). As a result, I am not en-abled by society’s structures. In terms of physical disability, I really appreciate the anecdote that stairs en-able certain bodies, those able to walk up stairs, while dis-abling other bodies who are not able to walk up stairs. I feel structurally dis-abled because of my bipolar and so I feel that I am disabled/have a disability.
Nonetheless, I have uncomfortable amounts of internalized oppression issues over identifying specifically with having an active impairment which limits my life, because of my 15 months forced reform in confinement. This is a painful subject for me but maybe I will write more about this someday. This is something I am working on.:’( I really admire people like basketball player Royce White, who unapologetically identify with mental illness and thus as someone with the rights of a person with a disability under the ADA, Americans with Disabilities Act.
Depression, anxiety, and PTSD are real experiences with real challenges that deserve serious respect. Thank you so much for sharing that with me. I support you. <3 <3 I think it’s awesome that identifying with mental illness has been empowering for you. It has been for me too.
I hope this was helpful. Never hesitate to reach out to me :D
Sending you love and appreciation,
k. adelle / / miss diagnose
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
p.s. “mental illness” is a term that has been used by many activists, usually for access to health/care. having a preference for “mad” doesn’t mean like.. all work being done around “mental illness” is a sham. it’s a certain way of framing that has been used by us, for us, strategically, with mixed results.
p.p.s. my mug right now says “getting old is for the birds” and all the birds have like little shawls and caps and canes it’s so cute.
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Anonymous asked: Hi, do you think you could turn that last ask into a post so people could reblog?
yes thank you :’) i’m really glad it is helpful
mskaylee asked: Wow, your answer to the mental illness v. mad and disability question was fantastic. Any way you could make that rebloggable?
thank you so much!!!! i just made the edits & i’ll post it now. thanks again so much :’)
(via flipwallup)
“The authority of the clinician has been further naturalized in both clinical practice and the psychiatric research literature through the elaboration of the construct of “lack of insight” or anosognosia (Amador & David, 1998). In this discourse, mere disagreement with a psychiatric label and/or the legitimacy of a past or current hospitalization is often recast as a neuropsychiatric deficit or further sign of underlying psychopathology. An example of this can be found in the Beck Cognitive Insight Scale (Beck et al., 2004), which counts disagreement with the statement “other people can understand the cause of my unusual experiences better than I can” as an example of a deficit of “insight.” In order to prove his or her mental health, then, patients must learn to accept the clinicians’ semantic, diagnostic, and psychological authority.”
— Nev Jones & Robyn Lewis Brown in their essay “The Absence of Psychiatric C/S/X Perspectives In Academic Discourse: Consequences and Implications” from Disability Studies Quarterly, Vol 33, No 1 (2013),
Disability and Madness.
Anonymous asked: hi. thanks for running this blog! I was wondering what you consider the difference between mad and mentally ill. and also, do you consider mental illness a disability? I'm new to all this mad pride stuff but I have recently begun to identify as mentally ill (depression, anxiety, & ptsd) and have found it empowering. I also am starting to see connections to disability rights stuff. would you mind sharing your personal experience with those terms? thanks!
Hello!! Thank you so much. This is a GREAT question and I apologize for the delay in answering it. Though I have journaled a lot about this, and written publicly a little bit in the past, I didn’t want to just regurgitate the same response so I’ve been pondering. A mad scholar, Shayda Kafai, has a little footnote in her recent essay (“The Mad Border Body: A Political In-betweeness”) published in the Disability Studies Quarterly. She says this:
“I have chosen to use the term “madness” as opposed to “mental illness” for several reasons. Mental illness is language that is entrenched within the medical model. Madness on the other hand, while it was used as a derogatory term, has been reclaimed. Similar to the term queer, madness, in its reclamation and re-appropriation by individuals from within the community possesses agenic power.”
Which I think is a really good distinction between the terms!
I definitely identify as both mad and mentally ill, and also as “in and out of the attic.” I think a big part of the difference is what is being framed and how. mental illness is a term offered by the medical model, and it is part of a history of psychiatry which seeks to treat/cure illness, which sadly often has translated to punishing & disciplining mentally ill people. The psychiatric home of the term “mental illness” is involved with a very asymmetrical power relationship, with the doctors and professionals being the ultimate authority. Basically the mental-illness-narrative is authored by doctors treating the “insane” as what some people call “the known”, or as experiments. Madness is a reclamation of power, like the Disability rights movement’s favored political slogan, “nothing about us without us.”
Doctors historically have very cause-and-effect ideas about symptoms. An example of this might be like… abuse creates trauma which creates mental illness. While this is true for many people, its use as a medical narrative is actually very limiting for people. Solutions from the medical model often involve correcting a traumatized and mentally ill person’s symptoms because their symptom-expression is inconvenient for society, instead of social-justice based solutions, which involve changing society so people stop getting abused and traumatized. Signifying something outside of the medical paradigm is political. As a “mad” person I have more agency, I am reclaiming. As a mentally ill person I am constrained to a narrative in which I am an object of someone else’s study.
I also think that a mad identity is a dis-identification with sanity. Whereas a lot of stuff with mental illness is like… trying to get access to sanity. Identifying as mad is kind of like.. if sanity involves me being a specimen you are trying to “heal”, then i don’t want to be sane. I can be mad, healed, and love myself, all without being sane.
I truly support you embracing any stigmatized term! Both mental illness and madness are stigmatized. I’m mentally ill, but if I say mad it conjures up my symptoms, expressions, and politics at the same time, and I really like that.
I have further nuances with how I identify within a mental illness framework also. My constellation of symptoms and expressions has been interpreted in the medical model/ Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, as “bipolar II”. In addition, I feel that I AM bipolar II, I feel that I am manic depressive, and more specifically hypomanic. So I’m like ok, I’m bipolar II. However, I ALSO identify with the Borderline Personality Disorder community, though not actively AS borderline. This is because I was sent to a psychiatric lockdown facility as a teenage girl, and like most young girls-interrupted & sent to in-patient, I was diagnosed and given a treatment plan around my supposed borderline symptoms (and “Defiance Disorder Not Otherwise Specified” and several others over the course of my time there). So even though I do not agree that I am or have borderline, I identify very strongly with that community, and I have symptom overlap & treatment overlap with them. This is perhaps a bit tangential, but I wanted to illustrate how complicated a mad/mentally ill locations can truly be, and that it is OK for you to develop, research, edit, strengthen, whatever, the words you use to describe yourself.
I absolutely think mental illness is a disability. In fact, Lawrence Carter-Long, a disability advocate and activist with a physical disability, said something along the lines of madness is the final frontier of the disability movement during his representations-of-disability-in-film retrospective.
In short, I believe I have a disability because some things are ridiculously hard for me. I have joked: “come defeat me in a game of gin rummy and you will see” hahaha. But honestly more importantly, I believe I am disabled because societal structures pathologize my expressions. For example, my work ethic confronts capitalist notions of value, productivity, time, etc. I have been fired from or sometimes weirdly quit every job I’ve ever had. I’ve had terrible intrusive strange experiences with landlords in many of my living situations (which in a more socialized/socialist paradigm I’m pretty sure might qualify me for some help, but not really in the U.S.). As a result, I am not en-abled by society’s structures. In terms of physical disability, I really appreciate the anecdote that stairs en-able certain bodies, those able to walk up stairs, while dis-abling other bodies who are not able to walk up stairs. I feel structurally dis-abled because of my bipolar and so I feel that I am disabled/have a disability.
Nonetheless, I have uncomfortable amounts of internalized oppression issues over identifying specifically with having an active impairment which limits my life, because of my 15 months forced reform in confinement. This is a painful subject for me but maybe I will write more about this someday. This is something I am working on.:’( I really admire people like basketball player Royce White, who unapologetically identify with mental illness and thus as someone with the rights of a person with a disability under the ADA, Americans with Disabilities Act.
Depression, anxiety, and PTSD are real experiences with real challenges that deserve serious respect. Thank you so much for sharing that with me. I support you. <3 <3 I think it’s awesome that identifying with mental illness has been empowering for you. It has been for me too.
I hope this was helpful. Never hesitate to reach out to me :D
Sending you love and appreciation,
k. adelle / / miss diagnose
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
p.s. “mental illness” is a term that has been used by many activists, usually for access to health/care. having a preference for “mad” doesn’t mean like.. all work being done around “mental illness” is a sham. it’s a certain way of framing that has been used by us, for us, strategically, with mixed results.
p.p.s. my mug right now says “getting old is for the birds” and all the birds have like little shawls and caps and canes it’s so cute.
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
“Prisons do not disappear social problems, they disappear human beings. Homelessness, unemployment, drug addiction, mental illness, and illiteracy are only a few of the problems that disappear from public view when the human beings contending with them are relegated to cages” — Angela Davis (via socialjusticewarriorgirl)
(via stigmastopshere)
[video]
which always results in further complications.
[video]
[video]
some thoughts are so private that you only share them with a therapist or 17,000 people on the internet
Ahahaha
(via kjesusita)