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Little white flowers won’t wait for you

Anyone who has known me for a few years (which is most of you) knows I am quite interested in mental health, and have been keenly reading the updates of the forthcoming new DSM. Because I am *that* cool.

One of the bits that interested me (enough to blather on to Max about it) was the new section on Non-Suicidal Self Injury, for cutting (etc) in teenagers. Which I am quite pleased to see, I know quite a wadge of the MH community in the UK seems to find the current DSM laughably/terrifyingly old fashioned in some respects, so I think acknowledging that not everyone who self harms does so as a precursor to suicide attempts is helpful*. Though obviously for many it is the initial practice stage toward, but assuming it is for everyone, is unfair on those for whom that is release enough.

I’ve been reading it too with two heads on. Head one is the head that’s applying for a part time job that relates to all this. Head two is the head that’s struggling to come up with ideas because my friend (whom we will call Jemima for anonymity) that I’ve mentioned to some, if not all of you, seems to have reached a slightly odd place in her usual cycle and I’m not sure what. If anything. To do.

Jemima is a self harmer. She’s not a release only cutting teenager though, she’s a long time practicing mid twenties teacher. Often she has spoken to me about her desire to kill herself, but her inability to go through with it. She sees this as a massive failure on her part. To me it’s one of the few things that makes me feel it is probably okay to not set up camp outside her house.
She doesn’t appear on any radar anywhere because she’s never been to the doctors about it (she has been self-harming and suicidal since she was early teens). I’ve encouraged her endlessly, but though I can reassure her about things from the perspective of the MHA83 I can’t entirely reassure her on one of her fears which prevents her going to her GP. Her parents finding out.
She lives not far from the main site of my college, as do her parents. Her GP is the same one she, and they have always used. It is the local practice. Everyone at the practice knows the patients, that kind of place. Her parents are friendly with said GP, and it isn’t wholly inconceivable from he, or even his receptionist, might say in passing “Jemima was in yesterday”. Which would leave her in an uncomfortable position. She is petrified of changing doctors for fear her parents may find out that too.
She is a talented and clever woman, but she wouldn’t agree. Despite the fact that she has a good degree from a very well respected university, a PGCE, is studying for a masters and is the head of a subject she isn’t good enough. Sadly not only from her own perspective. She has the unfortunate circumstance of being the younger sibling of a phenomenally successful woman. I’m not exaggerating to say that Jemima’s sister is paid a lot of money to do one of the most prestigious jobs in the country. She has very impressive credentials-Oxbridge. Oh and happens to be model like aesthetically too. All in all perhaps not the big sister you need when you’re feeling kind of shit about your own abilities. Especially when your mother is a comparer, one of those parents who insists on telling child a why child b is better than them. Or opts for the technique, that one of the mothers of my childhood friends chose, which involves repeatedly saying  to other adults “oh but Sarah is so much more academic than Pippa” whilst Pippa is stood there.
Jemima isn’t successful enough by not only her own standards, but her mother’s standards.

And then there’s her job. When I was a child I hero worshipped my school teachers. They could do no wrong. Even when they were moody or arbitrarily minded I had absolute faith that they were at the core unbelievably clever people who knew exactly what they were doing. I never had those thoughts that many children do, that their teachers live in the classroom. They were always absolutely human to me, just amazingly clever and kind humans. When the first of my friends to become a teacher qualified I found it bizarre for a good few years. But still they seemed good people. Apart maybe from that friend’s headmaster (at her old school) who frankly sounded like a bit of a tosser. Though I’ve never really been niave enough to think that management in schools would be much nicer than they were at the colleges my mum taught in, so that wasn’t a particular surprise. All that I know about Jemima’s work though has made me doubt the humanity of some teachers. Her colleagues clearly know something is not right, but ignore it. She has been out and out bullied my her line manager. She cuts herself in her classroom (when the students aren’t around) and no-one chooses to notice. They are either the most phenomenally unobservent set of teachers on the planet (and we’re talking about a group of people trained to spot note swapping at 100 yards), or a bunch of twats. I generally prefer not to think badly of people I don’t know but after all this time I find it really hard not to go there and lamp the lot of them.

None of the above is to blame for her cycle. But it doesn’t help. She’s been self harming for years as I’ve said. She has gaps, the last one being nearly a year, and I’m very proud of her. She had a very bad car accident a fortnight back on the A60 (busy and tediously long raod) and has had a setback. Which I think is understandable. The thing is though she’s got a new habit, something new to control. And its food. She’s been having weight issues for a while and when she said she was going on a diet for the new year I was pleased for her. Then last week I found out what her diet is composed of: one meal a day. This one meal is one can of tuna, or if she’s really pushing out the boat, two, and some vegetables. And a can of some hideous no sugar coke thing. Oh and some mints. Her deeply unobservent colleagues have failed to realise that she isn’t eating lunch, and have in innocence complimented her and told her to “keep it up”. That and her weightloss thus far have encouraged her, and my suggestions that perhaps it isn’t the most sensible approach is being ignored. Which I understand, but I’m frustrated. I want her to look after herself, but I’m running out of ideas. I find it quite easy to deal with all this on an abstract level, and on a practical work sort of level. But I don’t think I’m exactly equipped to deal with this as well as she needs. I am not the kind of person who would make a nurse let’s be honest, and I think that’s what she needs. I am at a loss honestly. I can’t fix it, and she’s too scared to.

*There’s also going to be the inclusion of binge eating (presumably called something else) as a separate diagnosis like ana/mia are, and the likelyhood that there will be a teenage temper control diagnosis to replace bipolar when they are young and hormonal (which has benefits and disadvantages obviously, but I think perhaps more of the former).

Tags: Billie Holliday, dsm, friends, Gloomy Sunday, mental health