Shedding Light on Your Inner Asylum
Most everyone
I know with mental health struggles has at some point been told those struggles
weren’t real. Dismissing mental illness is unfortunately very common and rooted
in stigma and shame and fear. It’s also gaslighting.
It’s really
difficult to explain to someone who’s never had these struggles just how real
they are despite not being visible, tangible things. It’s my hope that these examples
and parallels from various stories can help everyone understand it a little
better, both those of us living with mental illness, and those not.
The mental
hospital is surprisingly prevalent in sci-fi/fantasy. Called "Cuckoo's
Nest" by TV Tropes, it shows up in Buffy ("Normal Again"), Warehouse 13 ("Don't Hate the Player"), Charmed ("Brain Drain"), Smallville ("Labyrinth"), and The
Magicians ("The World in the Walls") to name just a few. In each of
these cases, the character finds themselves in a mental hospital being told the
last months or years of their lives were all hallucinations, and that if they
just accept this and follow the prescribed treatment, they can have the
"normal life" they've craved.
Buffy
alternates between her two realities, seeing the friends and family of her
supernatural world juxtaposed with the hospital environment where her dead
mother and estranged father are there, together, wishing for her to "get
better" and go home with them. Piper (Charmed) finds her lifelong home
being used as a mental hospital where her sisters are fellow patients and her
husband is one of her doctors. The demon who put her there poses as another
doctor trying to convince her to let go of the ideas of magic and her life as a
witch, telling her, just as the doctor did with Buffy, that all those struggles
and battles she'd faced and all those victories she'd celebrated and losses
she'd mourned were not real. The “patient” is told that their belief in those
things is the only thing still keeping them from “getting better.”
More recently,
The Magicians used this trope, but instead of four or six seasons in, it's a
mere four episodes into the story. Quentin began the series in a hospital, and
in this episode, he’s put under a spell which gives him hallucinations of being
institutionalized again. Like in Charmed, this "hospital" is a
familiar place, Brakebills. Quentin's hospital room is his dorm room at the
magical school, but everyone is telling him those memories of the paranormal
world are just hallucinations.
When looking
at the demons, monsters, and spells these characters are fighting as metaphors
for mental illness, the attempts to convince each character their monsters aren’t
real is the same as the message from society and even some medical personnel
that our experiences regarding our mental health struggles aren't real. Personally,
considering the number of chronic illnesses that went undiagnosed for years and
years, those episodes feel like my mental and physical struggles being
represented by fake doctors in fake hospitals telling strong people not to
believe their own experiences. It's mental health gaslighting, and it's
something so many people face when they struggle with mental health challenges
and various hard to diagnose invisible illnesses. The stigma surrounding mental
health causes a lot of people to dismiss the realities we face. The ability to
fake ‘okay’ in public causes others to declare that our struggles must not be
real. But there are ways to fight back.
Some
characters needed the help of a friend or family member, some needed a boost
from a counter-spell, but ultimately, all these characters have to take the
final step themselves. They each have to decide if the monsters they're used to
facing are real, and if they're willing to face them again despite having to
leave behind the promise of peace and safety, and sometimes even loved ones
dead in the paranormal reality. Each of these characters struggles to learn the
same lesson. Life is not about a promise of peace and safety. It's about ups
and downs.
The key that
lets Quentin finally wake up was listening to Jane's questions and reading about The Madness Maker who could only
do game magic. "The real curse was he only played when he could win, which
cut him off from the surprise, horror, sadness, and wonder of life." To
which Quentin responds, "stop playing and start living” and swipes the
chess board which finally wakes him up.
Buffy's mother
probably sums it up the best, though. "You're too good to give in. You can
beat this thing. Be strong, baby. Okay? I know you're afraid. I know the world
feels like a hard place sometimes, but you've got people who love you. Your dad
and I, we have all the faith in the world in you. We'll always be with you.
You've got a world of strength in your heart; I know you do. You just have to
find it again. Believe in yourself."
Buffy's
reality is a hard place sometimes, quite often in fact, but her loved ones
anchor her and support her. Believing in herself means recognizing her reality,
the truth of her life, the validity of her struggles, even in the face of her
own mother telling her it's all in her head (a poignant realization for me
considering how often my mother told me the symptoms that were later identified
as part of several mental and physical illnesses were “all in my head” too).
But Buffy was able to take those words at face value. Her parents will always
be with her in her memories, in the way they raised her, in her genetics, and
(depending on one's beliefs) in spirit, despite her mother's passing and her
father's absence.
All the rest
of Joyce's words, strength in her heart, too good to give in, they stir in
Buffy the power to face her demons once again. In Buffy's case, there's no
clear expectation of what would have happened to Buffy had she chosen to stay
in the other world (and in fact, a final scene suggests that she's still in
that hospital, now catatonic as we continue to watch her hallucinations for
another season and a half).
In most cases of this trope, there is risk of loss if they don't escape; at the very least a loss of
power (Piper in Charmed) and often a potential loss of life (The
Magicians). They have to move through a stage of self-empowerment to get out of it.
It's a stage we all have to go through - accepting the problem as a real
problem allows us to be better prepared to combat it.
In our reality
of mental illness and cultural/societal lessons that aggravate and exacerbate
mental health challenges, the idea of accepting these messages that "all
those struggles were just in your head and if you accept that, you won't
struggle anymore" has a very "pull yourself up by your bootstraps and
put on your big girl panties" feel to it. It’s blaming us for our own
illnesses, dismissing our very real struggles, pushing toxic positivity,
factually incorrect and impossible to do, and ultimately, it's a completely
unhelpful message to us.
We all know
that everyone has ups and downs throughout their life. But it's a very, very
large sliding scale, and some have more ups or more downs, some have taller ups
and some have lower downs, while some have longer ups or longer downs. What
causes an up or down, the length and intensity of its effect, those things vary
from one person to another, but overall, those of us dealing with chronic
mental health challenges have deeper downs than your average neurotypical,
untraumatized person. A mentally healthy person may be able to easily reach for
their inner supply of extra gumption to go to work when worried about a loved
one, when they've fought with their partner, or even when they're grieving a
relationship or a person or pet. On the other hand, we who fight with our own
brains during much of our waking hours find ourselves overwhelmed when
stressed, triggered, or grieving, and this can legitimately result in
serious slumps of being unable to "do it anyway".
"Every
day begins with an act of courage and hope: getting out of bed." Mason
Cooley, an American aphorist, said that. It's a witty aphorism, sure, but for
those of us who struggle, it's actually kinda profound. Sometimes it's an achievement
unto itself when our brains are overcome by the effects of mental illness. And considering
the impact the brain has on the rest of the body, let’s remember Dumbledore’s
words, “Of course it
is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it
is not real?” Internal struggles are real and valid.
Dr. Robin
Sterns’ “The Gaslight Effect” describes three distinct stages of gaslighting:
disbelief, defense and depression. “In other words, you first
avoid accepting that the manipulation is occurring, you then try to fight
against it and finally you are convinced there is a problem with you. By stage
three, you may feel like you are, quite literally, ‘going crazy.’” (https://themighty.com/2017/01/mental-illness-and-gaslighting-thoughts/) This perfectly describes the process so many of the characters
go through in their utopian dreams and imaginary sanitariums. Taking a closer
look at just two of these examples, Buffy and Piper had seemingly similar
experiences, but with a few important differences.
In both cases,
the "doctors" (Buffy has strangers there, Piper has the demon and
'Leo') go through the aforementioned gaslighting stage. And in both cases, it
was their connections to loved ones that pulled them out of the delusions, but
in different ways. Where Buffy looks at not-Joyce and makes the conscious
decision to face her reality, even if it doesn't sound like reality to others,
Piper gets so lost in it that the real Leo and her real sisters have to find a
way into her mind to pull her out and back to reality. It shows a lot in the
different ways different people deal with mental illness and how the same fix
won't work on everyone.
Buffy’s got a poison inside that
makes her hallucinate, and she goes back and forth between worlds for most of
the episode. “Normal Again” represents us fighting our internal voices that
tell us we’re making it up/exaggerating/etc. It’s internalized ableism and
learning to recognize it and counter it with our reality, to “believe” like
Buffy did, is how we fight those voices. Piper, on the other hand, is being
held in the underworld by a demon, and her mind is trapped in the fake hospital
by his powers. All Piper’s stuff comes directly from the demon influencing her
mind, the actual external voices that disbelieve the reality of mental illness.
“Brain Drain” is society and dismissive medical personnel.
Piper: I was
just upset that there was another demon in our house and in our lives. And I
know I should stop fighting it and just accept it, but...
Paige: It's
actually kind of good to know that I'm not the only one who struggles with
being a witch.
It's always
helpful to know we're not the only ones struggling against our own
demons. When society and our doctors are denying our reality, it takes
someone, even just one person, to validate us and allow us to move into
healing. This is what Leo, Paige, and Phoebe represent in “Brain Drain.” On the
other hand, Buffy struggled to find enough inner strength and faith in her
connections to others to consciously choose to say goodbye to the delusions,
and after her first step, she reached out to her friends for help (in the form
of an antidote). When our own inner voices are the ones harming us, sometimes
we have to find the strength or faith to take that first step, and then we can
reach out and ask for the help we need. Buffy needs her connections with
friends just as Piper needs her sisters and Leo, Quentin
needed Penny and Julia and even Jane, just as we all need our own supportive and
loving people whether they are our relatives, our misfit chosen family, or even
our group therapy fellows.

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