I am so tired of the usual, ho-hum stories we hear at events sponsored by eating disorders organizations. I am tired of the usual, “I was very sick, I went to a wonderful treatment place and then, I got better” narrative. I am tired of the lies, tired of the euphemisms, tired of the half-truths.
I am planning a presentation that will tell the real story. Such a story would be censored at NEDA, and censored at many of those “mental health” presentations. I’m sick of censorship. I’m sick of the massive editing out of “triggers.” This presentation will be like none of the usual fare, simply because it will contain information that the System and its elite would never want the public to hear.
I need to decide on a frame. Each time you give a presentation it needs a frame. “These things will be included and these will be left out.” This is your framework, what it is about…or not. One challenge for me is to weed out topics that are too tangential, and to include thorough explanations since many in the audience are not at a level of basic understanding of the topic. I cannot assume they know what I am talking about without this grounding.
Back when I was in so-called “treatment,” I recall the censorship. I remember one day I mentioned the word “cancer” and was immediately told to shut up (by staff) even before I finished my sentence. Had they heard me out, they would have realized I was making a valid analogy, not speaking of anything specific about cancer.
Looking back now with much hindsight, the staff in such places lacked insight, and were devoid of realistic perspective on what we were going through. Most of the MD’s just plain didn’t care. The only ones with smarts were the patients themselves. This was where one would find amazing wisdom, if only someone had listened.
Many patients had given up. Some came to the world of mental health with much trauma in their backgrounds and then, went for years or decades without even one chance to speak of that trauma. The silencing over many years led them to believe there were no such chances anytime, anywhere. They had kept it all bottled up, telling no one, hoping that sometime they might get a chance to examine why they’d ended up in the System or had sought help to begin with. This chance never came.
Being out of the System, for me, means Freedom of Speech now. No staff, no idiotic censorship. I am out here bumbling on my own, allowing myself to make mistakes and learning that there are indeed awesome ways to self-express without worries of further silencing.
Have a nice day! Onward.