The Double Standard of Forced Treatment
Forced treatment for people with mental illness has had a long and abusive history, both here in the United States and throughout the world. No other medical specialty has the rights psychiatry and psychology do to take away a person’s freedom in order to help “treat” that person.
Historically, the profession has suffered from abusing this right — so much so that reform laws in the 1970s and 1980s took the profession’s right away from them to confine people against their will. Such forced treatment now requires a judge’s signature.
But over time, that judicial oversight — which is supposed to be the check in our checks-and-balance system — has largely become a rubber stamp to whatever the doctor thinks is best. The patient’s voice once again threatens to become silenced, now under the guise of “assisted outpatient treatment” (just a modern, different term for forced treatment).
This double standard needs to end. If we don’t require forced treatment for cancer patients who could be cured by chemotherapy, there’s little justification for keeping it around for mental illness.


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This guest article from
Nearly one-third of people caring for terminally ill loved ones suffer from depression according to research from Yale University. About one in four family caregivers meet the clinical criteria of anxiety. And a recent study found that 41 percent of former caregivers of a spouse with Alzheimer’s disease or another form of dementia experienced mild to severe depression up to three years after their spouse had died.
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During one of my routine trips to the library — I haven’t adopted the Kindle groove yet and still enjoy the physical act of turning pages — I was perusing the women’s fiction section to get my chick-lit fix, and landed on Robyn Harding’s refreshingly funny novel, The Journal of Mortifying Moments.
Gratitude is a lifejacket on a sinking ship. Gratitude is a door held by a stranger when you’re carrying lots of stuff. It’s a smile from your spouse after you’ve had one of those days at work. It’s a blanket when you’re cold. Soup when you’re sick. A call when you’re lonely.
I remember when I was an active …
