Governor Newsom, as most people have heard by now, has proposed a vast new program called CARE COURT.
In this proposal, individuals with mental health challenges or substance use disorders are forced into a new Court system instead of treatment. And those who are unhoused/homeless are forced into that same Court system instead of providing housing for them.
CARE Court constitutes forced treatment: any behavioral health service, support, or treatment that is not entered into 100% voluntarily with informed consent by the participant. Forced treatment can occur in both inpatient and community-based treatment settings. Coercion or force can also take the form of perceived coercion—fear by the individual that noncompliance will result in compelled, forced, or court-ordered treatment—often referred to as “shadow compulsion” or “the black robe effect.” Coercion can also be present if an individual fears they will lose housing or other services if they do not accept treatment. Providing individuals with a petition, subpoena, ticket, or other legal documentation that compels their attendance before a judge is forced simply because there is nothing about a court that is voluntary. Judges, lawyers, or court orders is what all involuntary programs have in common. The fact that an individual is mandated to accept outpatient community-based care, in programs like CARE Court, does not negate the fact that the care received constitutes forced treatment.
It is clear that coercion is counter-productive, and in fact causes trauma – which makes the situation worse than ever by traumatizing the patient, rather than helping them.
AND GOVERNOR NEWSOM KNOWS THIS. Here’s what he wrote just last year in his veto message for AB 1452:
“I understand the importance of developing programs that can divert individuals away from the criminal justice system, but coerced treatment . . . is not the answer. While this [program] would give a person the choice between incarceration and treatment, I am concerned that this is a false choice that effectively leads to forced treatment. I am especially concerned about the effects of such treatment, given that evidence has shown coerced treatment hinders participants’ long-term recovery from their . . . disorder. For these reasons, I am not able to sign this legislation.“
The governor needs to think back a whole year and remember that he opposes forced treatment. . . remember what he said were his core values and STOP Care Court.
Drugs can change mood. Just ask your pot-smoking friends. Marijuana often results in worried people worrying less! This doesn’t mean that cannabis “cures” anxiety or that those who smoke weed and feel calmer had anxiety disorders to begin with. It just means that drugs can alter mood. Thus, even if antidepressants can elevate sad people’s moods (and there is ample evidence suggesting they might, at least somewhat), this doesn’t necessarily indicate that the original depressed mood was a product of neurological illness. So, feeling better when on antidepressants isn’t automatically indicative that you suffered from a mental disorder before you started taking them. It just means that some drugs can improve mood.
My story begins after the most stressful work meeting of my life. I drove home after the meeting and parked my car at around 10:30 am outside my San Francisco apartment. I paused to collect my thoughts for a few minutes, but when the sun started going down, I realized I’d been sitting there for six hours. During that time, I struggled to remember what had just happened in the meeting, but the more I tried to remember, the more memories of things that couldn’t possibly have happened started to fill my brain. Memories of things like seeing people die, of being sued, of being interviewed on CNN. Unbeknownst to me, I was experiencing the onset of schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type.
Eventually, enough of these fake memories filled my brain that I became convinced that a team of psychologists had assumed control of my life and was experimenting on me against my will. I believed that they controlled every circumstance of my life, and I believed everyone around me was a paid actor being fed lines by the psychologists. I thought even my own parents were wearing teeny-tiny earbuds through which the psychologists were feeding them lines. Except, of course, on the few occasions when I thought my parents were robots.
During the ten months I believed this, I talked to myself on the street like every stereotype of a schizophrenic homeless person you’ll ever come across; I picked other people’s used cigarettes up off the ground, put them in my mouth, relit them, and smoked them; I broke into houses and cars; I got tackled by police officers; and I got sedated by injection against my will four times.
My 10-month bout of psychosis came to an end all at once after several medication adjustments greatly reduced the number of signs and clues from the psychologists I was seeing in my surroundings. One day I bit the bullet and googled “characteristics of schizophrenic delusions,” and I realized it fit what I was experiencing to a T. In that moment, I went from being the future president of the United States as my delusions had me believe I was, to being a member of a marginalized population.
The initial stages of my recovery were the most difficult, as I experienced rejection from some family members and was given a pretty grim prognosis from doctors. But I beat the odds and made a full recovery, and what’s more is that I found healing through advocacy work. I began to speak publicly about my struggles, and it felt great to not apologize for who I am, mental health condition and all. I also became a support group facilitator, and I’ve found it rewarding to help others on their own mental health journeys.
Though it’s certainly been trying at times, I’m grateful for aspects of my journey. Because of my schizoaffective disorder, I’ve found a greater purpose in life advocating on behalf of those with similar challenges. I hope that my story can give them hope in a world in which people like us don’t have nearly enough role models.
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