Pushing Back

There are times when having to tell people how you are feeling is just one more agony in the daily round of mental pain. Everyone is looking for signs of recovery. And so are you. You have been trying to give the right answer, to do what you have been told, to follow advice. You have read up on the subject, you have listened to doctors, psychiatrists, therapists, your family, and friends.

Sometimes it can feel as though you are simply going through a process, almost as if the whole things is happening to someone else, and you are looking on in frozen horror.

In order to get through the endless round of appointments, sessions, and assessments you might have learnt a few tricks to stop yourself from running screaming out of the room when you get asked the same set of questions, yet again, by yet another earnest person. They lean in a little towards you as they ask. They make sure to use your name each time they pose another question. When they ask you how you are doing, you’ve learnt to tell them that you are doing better, and you have got the answering smile down pat, while in your head you’re screaming ‘How the f*** do you think I’m doing, I’m here aren’t I?’

Maybe you get through sessions by predicting when they are going to get to various questions—the big ones about your childhood. Was there any inappropriate behaviour from your teachers/family members/family friends/neighbours/strangers who hung around the school gate, or indeed anyone at all? Did anyone touch you in a way that made you uncomfortable? ‘You’re making me uncomfortable,’ it’s so tempting to reply. Sometimes, when you’re really bored of the questions, you have learnt to pause for just long enough when they ask you a particularly juicy one, just to see how they react to the silence. And perhaps there are days when you skip the medication to see if you can? Or maybe you are being watched over so you can’t get away with that, but you’ve learnt to hold it at the back of your teeth so that it doesn’t get absorbed, and you keep it there until you can spit it out.

I am not putting all of this down to encourage anyone to cheat any system. How often have you heard ‘You’re only cheating yourself,’ when you have been caught doing any version of any of the above? After all the statement is true.

Or is it? One man or woman’s apparently childish rebellion is another’s bid to take back some sense of control when so much feels out of control.

When is cheating not cheating?

This is not about cheating anything or anyone. It is to clarify the very human need to feel in control of our destiny. This is also about when and how this need becomes destructive, and when it can be used as a great ally and healer.

Many of us do not want to have to take medication for post-traumatic stress, depression, anxiety, or any other psychological pain. We have a visceral sense that it is a form of giving in, or giving up, of losing control. There is also the lurking question of whether it is going to change our brain chemistry in the long term. Fighting against taking it can feel like an act of defiance, a last stand to prove that you still have some control over the constant mental agony. Second-guessing the doctor, psychiatrist or therapist can feel the same—an act that helps you believe that you are not really going mad.

But how can you know whether these apparent acts of defiance are working for or against you?

It is about timing.

If little acts of rebellion coincide with the worst symptoms then they are not going to help. Then they are an unreliable mental reaction that wants to avoid being trapped and disempowered, a hyper-state of the fight or flight response. Your executive mind systems are not working in the way that they should. The result of any push back at this stage will probably be increased levels of supervision and medication. You will feel both crazier and more paranoid.

But if these little revolts start at the same time as other glimmers of recovery, say better sleep, easier concentration, or fewer panic attacks and waves of despair, then the push backs can also be a sign of recovery. It is your mind recognising that it is ready to make decisions again, to discern what is good for you. The executive systems are coming back on line.

But what is the difference?

A relatively simple way of knowing the difference is this: if the act of resistance comes with a sense of panic or fear then it is not helping you. It is likely to make the situation even more terrifying. But if pushing back genuinely feels like an act of free will, a small victory that make the future seem possible, then this can mark the beginning of your journey back to yourself.

The final distinguishing point between the two comes down to one question, a question not to be asked by someone else but by you, and to you: ‘How am I?’ If the answer is that you are feeling terrible, defiance is not going to help. It will make the situation worse. But, if you are surprised to find that the response is that think that you are doing better than yesterday, the day before, or last week, then the rebellions could be an early sign of spring.

It is vital to be able to understand the difference between rebellions of recovery and potentially dangerous defiance. Our minds are very effective at making us believe that we are being rational when we are not, so get someone else to validate your view. Ask someone you know you can trust, someone whose opinion is going to be clear, professional and supportive, someone who really knows what they are talking about, and who knows what is going on with you. Ask them how they think you are doing, and see how close it is to your view.

And if the push backs are good ones, enjoy them, delight in them, but without pissing off those that you are pushing back against. You will still need their support.