I just finished reading the book "Broken" by William Cope Moyers. It's an auto-biography about his story of alcohol and drug addiction and I highly recommend it. As I do with most books, I dog-earred pages of the parts that spoke to me. By the end of this book, I think there were more pages folded than not.
In one of the final chapters of the book, he makes the comparison between his battle with cancer (yeah, he had that too) and his struggle with addiction. He talks about the stark contrast in support and resources that he felt while dealing with each, mainly due to the negative stigma attached to addiction, and how this hindered successful treatment. As I read, I couldn't help but make comparisons to the stigma/roadblocks he faced with addiction and the prejudices against mental illness that exist. Thought I'd quote some passages and share them. As you read, feel free to substitute references about addiction to ones about mental illness and see if you see the similarities too.
"I've had a lot of experience with two deadly diseases in my relatively young life, and I've spent some time thinking about the differences between them. Both diseases are chronic, progressive, and life-threatening. Nobody deserves to get either one. Continuing care is an essential part of treatment, and reoccurrence of the disease is always a possibility. Yet public attitudes toward the victims of these diseases are as different as night and day. That's the gap we must understand and attempt to bridge; until we do, millions of addicted people will suffer needlessly.
When my doctor told me I had cancer, he didn't raise his eyebrows or wag his finger at me. I felt no shame or humiliation. When I told my family and friends that I had cancer, no one ever suggested that I gave myself the illness or that it was in any way my fault, though I suppose people could have pointed a finger of blame at my parents for allowing their blue-eyed, blond-haired, fair-skined child to swim every summer without sunscreen...Nobody was to blame--I just happened to get it, and when I did, everyone stepped in to help.
During the diagnosis, treatment, and recovery states of my cancer, I was overwhelmed by offers of sympathy and support from family, friends, and even strangers. 'Get Well' cards and 'How ya doing?' phone calls affirmed that I was surrounded by people who cared about me and were pulling for me to get well. When I needed emotional support, I didn't hesitate to ask for it, and friends and strangers immediately responded. People told me they admired my strong spirit, and some even called me 'courageous.' Having cancer never eroded my self-respoect, compromised my morals, or challenged my belief in god. I felt more loved and accepted during that difficult period than I have ever felt in my life.
With cancer, I never doubted that the medical advice and continuing care I received were the best possible treatments available....Every time I pulled out my insurance card and presented it to a doctor, I felt absolutely confident that I had the financial safety net I needed for my care. It never crossed my mind that the billing person might hand the card back to me and say, 'I'm sorry, Mr. Moyers, your card is no good here. We'll need 50 thousand dollars up front before we can treat you.'
Even when I called my insurance company with a question, the faceless and nameless customer service representative on the other end spoke to me with dignity and respect. Because my insurance covered most of what I needed, I never had to beg, borrow, or steal to get the care I needed and deserved...I got the care I needed to give me the best possible chance to live. Without that treatment and continuing care, I would not have made it...
It was a completely different story with my addiction. From the beginning, we all thought the disease was partly if not wholly my fault. I'll never forget the time a family friend, a doctor...confronted me... 'How could you have done this to Mary? What's wrong with you? How could you be so weak, so thoughtless, so self-centered? Why couldn't you just exert some willpower and strength of character and stop this self-destructive behavior?....When I checked in to the hospital I didn't use my last name and didn't notify my insurance company for fear that I'd be forever tagged with the label of exactly what I was. My parents told only a few close friends and everyone else was left to wonder why I suddenly disappeared...Even the handful of people who knew the truth weren't sure how to reach out in response. I got one or two 'Get Well' cards and a few visitors, but that wast it. In truth, I didn't want to see anybody because I was so tortured by shame and guilt.
Why do we continue to whisper about addiction like earlier generations did about the "long illness" that too many people died from?
Because people who are addicted are too sick to know it and those of us who have recovered are too ashamed to admit we ever had it.
Why do so many people with addiction receive censure and punishment, which do nothing to solve the problem, rather than understanding and treatment, which do?
Because the myths and misconceptions about addiction tell us that addicts and alcoholics are somehow "bad" (lazy, self-centered, immoral, weak-willed)...
Why is it that people with cancer, diabetes, or hypertension are considered "victims" when their own behavior or lifestyle sometimes contributes to their illness--but we never attach the same sympathetic label to people with my disease?
Because people like me don't stand up and speak out as often as we should, providing our faces and voices that treatment does work and treatment is possible. Too many of us just want to be 'normal' again. We don't want to talk about our past with people who may think less of us or somehow make our lives more difficult. " --William Cope Moyers
Now, I'm not here to get into an argument about the crap state of our healthcare system or the shit care of addiction and treatment (you don't want to get me started on this because I'm passionate and I always win : ) but, I do think that there are lots of similarities between his description of suffering with addiction and those faced by people with mental illness: the shame and humiliation, the stigma of not wanting others to know, to judge you, fear of work finding out, not telling people and wanting to just be 'normal' again, judgement that you are somehow weak-willed, the chronic nature, and lack of support from others (mainly from ignorance and awkwardness). And I agree with him that people need to speak up and come together for support to help change the stigma associated with mental illness. Anyways, I'll come down from my high-horse here and move onto another soap box now.
In one of the final chapters of the book, he makes the comparison between his battle with cancer (yeah, he had that too) and his struggle with addiction. He talks about the stark contrast in support and resources that he felt while dealing with each, mainly due to the negative stigma attached to addiction, and how this hindered successful treatment. As I read, I couldn't help but make comparisons to the stigma/roadblocks he faced with addiction and the prejudices against mental illness that exist. Thought I'd quote some passages and share them. As you read, feel free to substitute references about addiction to ones about mental illness and see if you see the similarities too.
"I've had a lot of experience with two deadly diseases in my relatively young life, and I've spent some time thinking about the differences between them. Both diseases are chronic, progressive, and life-threatening. Nobody deserves to get either one. Continuing care is an essential part of treatment, and reoccurrence of the disease is always a possibility. Yet public attitudes toward the victims of these diseases are as different as night and day. That's the gap we must understand and attempt to bridge; until we do, millions of addicted people will suffer needlessly.
When my doctor told me I had cancer, he didn't raise his eyebrows or wag his finger at me. I felt no shame or humiliation. When I told my family and friends that I had cancer, no one ever suggested that I gave myself the illness or that it was in any way my fault, though I suppose people could have pointed a finger of blame at my parents for allowing their blue-eyed, blond-haired, fair-skined child to swim every summer without sunscreen...Nobody was to blame--I just happened to get it, and when I did, everyone stepped in to help.
During the diagnosis, treatment, and recovery states of my cancer, I was overwhelmed by offers of sympathy and support from family, friends, and even strangers. 'Get Well' cards and 'How ya doing?' phone calls affirmed that I was surrounded by people who cared about me and were pulling for me to get well. When I needed emotional support, I didn't hesitate to ask for it, and friends and strangers immediately responded. People told me they admired my strong spirit, and some even called me 'courageous.' Having cancer never eroded my self-respoect, compromised my morals, or challenged my belief in god. I felt more loved and accepted during that difficult period than I have ever felt in my life.
With cancer, I never doubted that the medical advice and continuing care I received were the best possible treatments available....Every time I pulled out my insurance card and presented it to a doctor, I felt absolutely confident that I had the financial safety net I needed for my care. It never crossed my mind that the billing person might hand the card back to me and say, 'I'm sorry, Mr. Moyers, your card is no good here. We'll need 50 thousand dollars up front before we can treat you.'
Even when I called my insurance company with a question, the faceless and nameless customer service representative on the other end spoke to me with dignity and respect. Because my insurance covered most of what I needed, I never had to beg, borrow, or steal to get the care I needed and deserved...I got the care I needed to give me the best possible chance to live. Without that treatment and continuing care, I would not have made it...
It was a completely different story with my addiction. From the beginning, we all thought the disease was partly if not wholly my fault. I'll never forget the time a family friend, a doctor...confronted me... 'How could you have done this to Mary? What's wrong with you? How could you be so weak, so thoughtless, so self-centered? Why couldn't you just exert some willpower and strength of character and stop this self-destructive behavior?....When I checked in to the hospital I didn't use my last name and didn't notify my insurance company for fear that I'd be forever tagged with the label of exactly what I was. My parents told only a few close friends and everyone else was left to wonder why I suddenly disappeared...Even the handful of people who knew the truth weren't sure how to reach out in response. I got one or two 'Get Well' cards and a few visitors, but that wast it. In truth, I didn't want to see anybody because I was so tortured by shame and guilt.
Why do we continue to whisper about addiction like earlier generations did about the "long illness" that too many people died from?
Because people who are addicted are too sick to know it and those of us who have recovered are too ashamed to admit we ever had it.
Why do so many people with addiction receive censure and punishment, which do nothing to solve the problem, rather than understanding and treatment, which do?
Because the myths and misconceptions about addiction tell us that addicts and alcoholics are somehow "bad" (lazy, self-centered, immoral, weak-willed)...
Why is it that people with cancer, diabetes, or hypertension are considered "victims" when their own behavior or lifestyle sometimes contributes to their illness--but we never attach the same sympathetic label to people with my disease?
Because people like me don't stand up and speak out as often as we should, providing our faces and voices that treatment does work and treatment is possible. Too many of us just want to be 'normal' again. We don't want to talk about our past with people who may think less of us or somehow make our lives more difficult. " --William Cope Moyers
Now, I'm not here to get into an argument about the crap state of our healthcare system or the shit care of addiction and treatment (you don't want to get me started on this because I'm passionate and I always win : ) but, I do think that there are lots of similarities between his description of suffering with addiction and those faced by people with mental illness: the shame and humiliation, the stigma of not wanting others to know, to judge you, fear of work finding out, not telling people and wanting to just be 'normal' again, judgement that you are somehow weak-willed, the chronic nature, and lack of support from others (mainly from ignorance and awkwardness). And I agree with him that people need to speak up and come together for support to help change the stigma associated with mental illness. Anyways, I'll come down from my high-horse here and move onto another soap box now.
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