Tonight I was soaking in a lovely hot bath before bed and found myself experiencing such a sense of calling that I got out of the bath to film this clumsy-yet-heartfelt introduction to a series on what a diagnosis of bipolar I* has meant to me. Over the course of this series, I’ll share a paper I wrote for my first semester social welfare policy class in my Master of Social Work program in the fall of 2019. Huge shoutout to Salem State University and its School of Social Work. I’m forever grateful to all of my professors there, in this case particularly Dr. Jonathan Lukens, who made me feel safe enough to disclose my diagnosis and who lit a fire in me to think deeply and give voice to my own truth while uplifting the voices of others.
In this intro, I start by unpacking a footnote in my paper. Future posts in this series will be a little better organized.
*I’m grateful to link Dr. Megan Anna Neff’s gem of a website, Neurodivergent Insights, rather than a standard healthcare website. Please take a look at her amazing offerings and follow her work, particularly if someone you love identifies as neurodivergent, mentally ill, or in need of some tender loving care.
Social Welfare Policy
KENDRA’S LAW: IS THIS THE BEST WE CAN DO?
Hannah Lynn Mell
Salem State University
Introduction: The Allure of Reductionism
Over the course of its history, the United States has employed a variety of approaches toward treating mental illness1.
1The language of mental illness is a complex matter. Writing “living with a mental illness” is preferable to “suffering from a mental illness,” and writing “a person experiencing hallucination” is preferable to “schizophrenic” (Bulthuis, n.d.). Due to its historic subject matter and due to a lack of standardization in contemporary terminology, this paper uses a variety of descriptors.
Here’s the website noted in the citation, the article is entitled 7 terms to avoid when talking about mental illnesses, and better ones to use. Thanks, Emily Bulthuis, MSW, LICSW & the Health Partners website.
Many thoughts occur here, but when I think of terminology I ultimately land on: Does it accurately describe at least some of the experience? Is it helpful to the person experiencing the condition? And what about how it affects others? Can the term promote empathy and understanding? Or does it oversimplify and get used for control? And as importantly: do alternative terms help promote understanding (some do) or do they end up being another kind of denial (a real possibility). Denial can be as unloving (to ourselves or to others) as judgemental labels...
Then again, maybe it's our relationship with the word "illness" that is the problem? As if an illness (of any sort) were sign of divine punishment. It can be empowering to embrace the universal reality that "living things do get sick, and sometimes have problems functioning." Maybe denial vs judgment are just two sides of the same coin: fear.
What if this is all less about finding the "right" label as a need for applying greater love and understanding?