Before I wade back into this debate, I should declare my affiliation to this subject. I work for an insurer. I see people who try to medicalise what most of us call a bad day, or a bad job, or plain bad luck. If they didn't have financial gain from their "illness" they'd do what the rest of us do - get on with life.
Where it's different is those who are actually suffering from a real bonafide mental illness. The clients I talk to who do, they're a whole different bunch than those who don't. But can you get a doctor in NZ to grow the balls to say that? Hell no.
The medical profession in NZ has a lot to answer for. For example, I rocked up to my GP many years ago. I'd had numerous days off work over a period of several months, and now cos my employer was so pissed I needed to get a med cert for every day I was off. GP asks me why I'm missing work. I say it's cos I'm not sleeping much. Got financial problems, relationship problems and I hate my job, both of them. Okay - he writes out a script, tells me I need two weeks off work, take these pills and if I'm not feeling better in a couple of weeks come back and see him.
On the way home while I'm buzzing thinking how cool it is to get a two week holiday from my sucky day job, I stop by my parents place. Mum (nurse) asks what the doctor said. Oh some meds I said. She looks at the script - Prozac. Do you know the side effects? No, do I care? So she lists them to me... bla bla bla bla bla bla impotence bla bla bla bla bla... Now you tell a young guy that things down there might not be rockin like you're used to and suddenly you've got their full attention. I left the script with Mum. Went home and sat down.
Why was I not sleeping? Well it was cos I was getting home from my 2nd job at between 11pm and 2am, wired, so not sleeping until 2-4am. Then when 7am rolls around to get up for my day job that I hate... do you think I could get outta bed on time 5 days a week? Umm... no. Why did I hate the day job? Well it was a no-brainer - literally. Why was I needing to work 2 jobs? Well I had this slapper of a g/f who was f***ing around on me, on the dole and not contributing a God damn cent to the house we were living in, the cars we were driving or the takeaway food that we were eating - so I had an expensive lifestyle to feed and a shit diet to go with it. I think my description of her might explain why there were relationship difficulties. So how do I solve this problem? Ditch the bitch, move back to the olds to sort out the debt.
So I did. Problems were resolved within a matter of weeks. My work performance picked up at the day job, stress levels went down there and I continued with lesser hours at the night one. Financial problems disappeared almost overnight. Slapper got knocked up just before D-Day, but my daughter's turned out wonderful so I can't complain at all about that.
Now obviously I was clearly still sane enough to make my own decisions about my own fate, and take responsibility for my situation. So you can't classify me as having a real mental illness. If I'd left it to my GP - I'd have been a victim.
This society is full of victims. The few sick people in this society get a bad rep from all those other "victims".
"You, Madboy, are the Uncooked Pork Sausage of Sausage Beasts. With extra herbs."
- Jim2 c2006
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