When will we become lovable? When will we feel safe? When will we get all the protection, nurturing, and love we so richly deserve? We will get it when we begin giving it to ourselves.
~ Melody Beattie,
   Beyond Codependency

As a psychotherapist, I can’t count how many times I have seen individuals and couples struggle with building healthy connections in their relationships.

The most common complaint has been that they feel unfulfilled, devalued or unappreciated in relationships with others. It is my professional experience that when we get caught up in what others can do to make us feel good about ourselves, we are likely to become angry and resentful.

So how do you avoid the resentment trap in your relationship?

I was going to comment on health care expenditures with an article entitled, “How the High Cost of Health is My Fault.” In it, I would briefly outline my experience with mental illness and detail the cost of caring for it, which, at present, includes medication and doctor visits, totals at least $10,500 per year. Much of this cost is borne by an insurance company.

Then I was going to relate the story about how, in the summer of 2002, I chose to stop taking my medicine the way my doctor directed me to take it, and then I stopped taking my medicine at all.

This was a bad choice. As a result, my illness became an emergency.

Nine hours in the ICU, four days in a private room, and two more weeks of hospital care brought a bill that topped $95,000.

The cost of nine years of care was eaten up by just a few weeks of my irresponsibility. That was cost that the health care industry, including my insurance company, would not have had to bear if I had only taken my medicine as directed.

You suspect your teen is using drugs. Maybe they’re not acting like themselves. Maybe they’re cutting school or shirking other responsibilities. Maybe their grades are dropping. Or their behavior is worsening. Maybe they’ve started hanging out with a bad crowd.

Maybe they’re being secretive and have even stolen money from your wallet. Maybe their physical appearance has changed with rapid weight loss or red eyes. Maybe you’ve noticed a change in their sleep habits, energy level and mood. Maybe you’ve actually found marijuana or other drugs in their room.

Naturally, the thought and possible confirmation of your child using drugs trigger a rush and range of emotions: anger, frustration, disappointment, sadness, fear.

If you think your child is using drugs, how do you approach them? Where do you start?

If you were hoping to get some medications prescribed for attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) while in college or at university, you might be in for a rude surprise.

Colleges and university are cutting back on their involvement with ADHD, primarily due to abuse of the psychiatric medications — stimulants like Ritalin — prescribed to treat the disorder. Students — whether they are malingering the symptoms or actually have it — are prescribed a drug to treat ADHD (sometimes from different providers in different states), then sell a few (or all the) pills on the side. Profit!

Now universities are becoming wise to the epidemic nature of the problem, as some studies have suggested up to a third of college students are illicitly taking ADHD stimulants.

This might help curb the abuse problem, but will it also make it harder for people with actual ADHD to receive treatment?

The opposite of depression is not happiness, according to Peter Kramer, author of “Against Depression” and “Listening to Prozac,” it is resilience: the ability to cope with life’s frustrations without falling apart.

Proper treatment doesn’t suppress emotions or dull a person’s ability to feel things deeply. It builds a protective layer — an emotional resilience — to safeguard a depressive from becoming overwhelmed and disabled by the difficulties of daily life.

However, the tools found in happiness research are those I practice in my recovery from depression and anxiety, even though, theoretically, I can be happy and depressed at the same time. I came up with my own recovery program that coincides with the steps toward happiness published in positive psychology studies.

A lot of treatment for mental health concerns is focused on the disorder. Medications for the symptoms, cognitive-behavioral therapy for the irrational thoughts. Professionals always asking “How’re you doing?” “How’s the week been?” “How’s your depressive mood this week?” They look at your eye contact, monitor your lithium levels.

The focus for most treatment professionals is on a patient’s symptoms and the alleviation of symptoms. Few professionals delve into how a disorder — like bipolar disorder or clinical depression — changes our identity. Everything we know about ourselves.

Everything we thought we knew about ourselves.

That’s why this recent piece in the NYT Magazine by Linda Logan exploring this issue is so interesting and timely.

Admit it: You like reading articles that contain lists. You know the ones I mean. The ones that contain those snippets that’ll explain how you can change your life if you follow a five-step plan to being a better person. The five steps to being wealthy; five beauty tips of the stars; five things that will help you beat procrastination, depression or anxiety. Come on, I know you like them — because I do too!

There’s something strangely comforting in looking at these lists and hoping that our life problems can be boiled down into five simple steps. I read them hoping for the answers, because I too want the secret to life, the universe, and everything.

However, I think the reality is this: As much as some lists offer interesting ideas, the majority mislead people about change. They offer false hope instead of facts. They generally encourage people to think their lives can be simpler if only they do those five secret things that may have worked for another person.

Come on, really? Life is so complex and the reasons why we feel and do what we do also are complex.

Anger is a naturally occurring emotion. However, often people do not express anger in a healthy, appropriate way. They allow frustrations to build up, then reach a point where they erupt.

Over time, pent-up anger and resentment causes tiny problems to become big ones. Anger can become displaced or is expressed in a way that becomes problematic. Many people feel more upset when they realize that they overreact or explode with anger, especially if it causes hurt for themselves or someone else. Thus, it creates the terrible cycle of struggling with anger.

But there is help for anger that doesn’t require you to dig up your past, explore your thoughts, or send letters to a dead loved one. It’s called biofeedback, and it offers individuals readily-learned techniques that are safe and effective (based upon decades’ worth of research).

The profession of occupational therapy (OT) has many of its roots in the Arts and Crafts Movement, a response to the industrialized production at the end of the nineteenth century which promoted a return to handcrafting (Hussey, Sabonis-Chafee, & O’Brien, 2007). Its origins also were strongly influenced by the earlier Moral Treatment Movement, which sought to improve the treatment of the institutionalized mentally ill population (Hussey et al., 2007).

Therefore, the use of art and crafts in psychiatric settings has played a significant role in OT from the beginning. Furthermore, a core idea in the development of OT is that “occupation, or doing with the hands, can be seen as an integral part of experiencing a meaningful life” (Harris, 2008, p. 133).

Crafts have many potential therapeutic applications: motor control, sensory and perceptual stimulation, cognitive challenges, and enhanced self-esteem and sense of efficacy (Drake, 1999; Harris, 2008).

At first the weight gain from my new antidepressant didn’t bother me. All I cared about was that this medicine was working. I felt myself coming into my body again; I could experience emotions and enjoy the present; I wanted to do things again.

One of those things was eat ice cream. A lot. So I gained a few pounds. It was time to buy new pants anyway. The only important thing was that my medicine was working and I was feeling good. I felt like participating in my life again. Feeling good and eating ice cream were natural.

But then I broke the couch.

While I believe mindfulness meditation has been the keystone to my recovery, I still think of it as an adjunct therapy. I couldn’t manage mental illness as well as I do now if I did not meditate. But I acknowledge that the medication my doctor prescribes and the therapy visits I have with him are crucial as well. Only through the consistent application of all three therapies am I well.

Mindfulness meditation is currently all the rage, and it works. But I am wary of its proponents who claim it can treat (or even cure) mental illness by itself.

Meditation is a powerful tool when used to decrease stress and increase well-being. But if we are to maintain that mental illnesses are biochemical malfunctions of the brain and nervous system, then we must allow room in treatment for medicine. Therapy also has a long history of positive impact on the lives of those challenged by psychiatric disease. Meditation, when added to more traditional and well-tested methods of treatment, can help a patient successfully manage a challenging life. I, and so many others like me, am proof of that.

I’m sitting down for my yearly physical with the blood pressure machine in view. From the displeased expression on the nurse’s face, I gather it wasn’t a perfect reading. Instead of jotting the numbers down in her notes, realizing that I’m probably just nervous (because I do have “white coat syndrome”), she sighs and expresses the urgency to take my blood pressure again and again, until she’s satisfied with the result.

Then, I walk into the lab next door for a blood test and the line I hear is: “Oh, your blood pressure was high, let me see if I can draw your blood now.”

Wait, what? Do they actually think that these comments will make me feel more relaxed?