Case File 1406

“Case File 1406. 18 year old female, Emma Cache. Referred to services by parents noticing overanxious tendencies. Patient is exceptionally bright, highly organized, and successfully integrated into social system. Initial diagnosis: generalized anxiety disorder.”

Wonderful girl. Where did she want to go to school? Ah yes, NYU. She’ll get there too. Pulling in perfect grades, and remarkably beautiful to boot. She’s just got worries. But then again, we all have worries. I have worries. I’m worried about her. She’s been pulling back. She’s trying to tell me something. But what it could be I have no…

“Excuse me, Dr. Mensonge? Miss, Cache is here to see you now.”

“Perfect, send her right in.”

There she is. She looks wonderful today, as usual. Is she hiding something behind her back? No, not hiding just holding. What is she carrying? “Emma, so lovely to see you again. Please, take a seat.”

“Hello, Dr. Mensonge. I brought my journal today, I hope you don’t mind. There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you…”

Ah, that’s the book she’s carrying. “Absolutely, dear. Why don’t you begin today.”

“Alright, well you know how you suggested I keep a journal to write down my thoughts and fears and worries?”

Looks like a full book. “Yes, dear. Have you been doing that?”

“Well yes. I’ve been keeping a journal for the past couple of months, and you’re right, it’s helped me realize that some of my fears are rather ridiculous. But some of the things I’ve been keeping track of have me even more worried than when I began.”

That’s the world. Some of us should be worried. Some of us are forced to hide. “Well I’m glad it’s helping on some level, Emma. But what has you nervous?” What did she just get out of her book? It’s a newspaper article. Oh god, it’s shaking in my hands. Is this what she’s trying to tell me? Oh please, please, let this not be her secret, the cause of all the problems in her life. Let this end only one life in the room.

“Have you heard of the Stonewall Riots, Dr. Mensonge?”

Heard of them? I have friends injured in the raid. I’ve felt the pain from their cuts, carry the bruises of their blows. How the law can justify the embarrassment and emotional scarring of nearly 200 innocent victims is beyond my comprehension. As a medical professional and simple human being. “No, I’m afraid not. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

“A couple of weeks ago, in late June, the police in Greenwich Villiage, New York raided a bar in the Stonewall Inn.”

Part of the New York State Liquor Authority movement was their excuse I think. Those pigs, there is no excuse for this.

“It was a gay club. And when the police went in to arrest those inside, the people fought back. They actually fought back! They mobbed the police who were harassing them. They threw things at them. They stood up for themselves.”

They exercised their rights as human beings. “This is all very interesting, Emma. But what does this have to do with you? Why are you worried?” Oh god, she’s so naïve.

“Well you know I’m applying to NYU for this next fall.”

Please just want a nicer neighborhood. Don’t let it be this.

“And you know that this happened within the gay community, and it keeps happening daily.”

Oh god. Why is my heart racing? I’m sweating. Don’t be trapped. Make her see.

“Dr. Mensonge, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Please, please. No. I can’t help you. I can’t help anyone. “Go ahead, dear. You can tell me anything.” She’s so beautiful. Such a bright future. Don’t throw it away.

“Dr. Mensonge. I’m gay.”

Her life has just ended.

Mining Experience: An Emotional Experiment

Anecdote:

When I was in the second grade, I had vast emotional problems. At this age, I wasn’t equipped with the aptitude needed to realize what the root of my difficulties was. I did, however, know what they did to my body.

Every morning was a test, a marathon to run before I could walk quietly on with my day. It was difficult finding the inspiration to get out of bed. I knew a struggle would ensue. I would roll out of bed and down onto my knees, my stomach cramping from some invisible disease. My chest would tighten, my lungs would ache while straining to attain much needed air. Then the panic would hit.

My brain would speak the thoughts my mouth was unable to utter.

“I can’t breathe. Why can’t I breathe?  Oh god, make it stop. Make it go away, make the pain go away. What is wrong with me?”

My parents tried to help, but there was only so much they could do. Eventually they took me to a psychologist, someone trained to deal with those as problematic as myself. It took only 15 minutes for them to make a diagnosis: separation anxiety disorder. Adults explained that I was just a sensitive child; I had a lot of worries. But if I just took the medicine they gave me I would get better. I wouldn’t cry anymore. I could breathe.

I was an obedient child. I took my medication. And the adults wanted me to get better so badly that I forced myself too. I got stronger, ignored the cramps in my stomache, the ache in my chest and lungs. Outsiders cried miracle. They praised my medication and my psychologist. But they don’t know what I hid for years. The pain in my body. The monster I refused to let loose.

As an adult, I realize that suppressing my emotions was not a constructive solution to my painful sentiment. It really wasn’t a solution at all. But with my pain, my repression, my “cure”, I know now what I will do with the rest of my life. I will help children. I will help the afflicted. I will help the world. Who better to understand the aggrieved than one of the aggrieved themselves?

 

Clarifications:

1.)  Although I am slated to be an English major at the present moment, I believe I will announce a duel major in English and psychology during my sophomore year.

2.)  As a child, I was diagnosed with a separation anxiety disorder, as well as a social anxiety disorder. But after intensive psychological “observation” and study, the social element of my disorder has been discarded. I was comfortable around others; the anxiety came from elsewhere.

3.)  Family members have told me that the medication had to have been the solution to my anxiety problems. My grandmother has told me it was like “flipping a switch” and “seeing a whole different kid.” I admit that the medication could have been a factor to my “cure”, however, I believe most of it was self-learned self control.

 

Career Resonance:

According to medical experts, anxiety medications have proved to be habit forming and to cause unwanted side effects, and it is for this reason and a myriad number of others that the general population does not support medicating emotional problems. Pop culture has deemed the modern population as the “medicated generation,” with a wider spread of individuals using said medications to “treat” ALL problems of their everyday lives. On a personal level, I also don’t believe in medicating emotional problems and believe that learning coping mechanisms is a much more successful, long-lasting solution. Perhaps my association on in the “medicated generation” has given me a bias in regards to this topic.

 

Historical, Scientific, Cultural Allusions:

1.)  “Media coverage of mental illness comprises predominantly negative depictions, for example, of incompetence, violence or criminality, with far less coverage of positive issues such as accomplishments or human rights issues. Such negative depictions, including in children’s cartoons, are thought to contribute to stigma and negative attitudes in the public and in those with mental health problems themselves, although more sensitive or serious cinematic portrayals have increased in prevalence.” (Wikipedia)

2.)  “Advances in neuroscience and genetics led to new research agendas. Cognitive behavioral therapy was developed. The DSM and then ICD adopted new criteria-based classifications, and the number of “official” diagnoses saw a large expansion. Through the 1990s, new SSRI antidepressants became some of the most widely prescribed drugs in the world. Also during the 1990s, a recovery model developed” (Wikipedia)

3.)  “An antipsychiatry movement fundamentally challenges mainstream psychiatric theory and practice, including asserting that psychiatric diagnoses of mental illnesses are neither real nor useful.” (Wikipedia)