Its been a long time since I posted anything new on these pages, life has kinda got in the way, as I believe John Lennon once said.

However, I have not been idle, I’ve been editing stuff, and putting projects together and making plans to take The Hethen project on to the next stage of my goals for it.

With that in mind, for the time being, at least, I shall be changing the site name to;

The unconventional Thesis of a girl from Glasgow.

Hopefully, over next few weeks, I shall have this site up and running as I go forward with my goals.

Today I replied to a post on  Glasgow Live’s page, that has left me somwhat confused as to what I actually said that was offencive, when I responded to someone replying to me reply with a link to the post I was replying to without comment by asking and your point is?

Here is the conversation as it appears on my facebook timeline, if anyone can enlighten me to what exsactly was offensive or rude about my response ,I’d be truely greatful.

Soeme say it’s a way of reducing inequality, while others complain that it’s a waste of money – what do you think?

June Mackendrick
June Mackendrick I think it a great idea, though I don’t get how it can be a cost to taxpayers when so many companies and organisations want to promote their products I’d have thot by then getting involved and donating promo samples the cost to taxpayers would be minimal . 33yea ago when I had my daughter the hospitals gave mums a goody bag of samples with nappies, & other baby products
The average box will cost taxpayers £160 to…

· Reply · 13 hrs


June Mackendrick

June Mackendrick Carol Roxburgh And your point is ? Given that taxpayers money continues 2 b used to top up the large salaries of Unscrupulous greedy MP’s, I think £160 to give parents support to help babies have an equal and fair start in life it’s not a lot of money in the bigger picture.

Image may contain: 1 person, text

· Reply · 6 hrs · Edited


Leah Ross
Leah Ross Pretty rude response June … your post clearly says you do not understand how it can cost the taxpayer money, someone provided you with a link showing how much each costs and you jump on the defensive then go off on a rant about the tories which is in no way connected to what Carol posted … in fact from Carols post it is impossible to even tell her politics or if she is for or against the baby box even 🙄

· Reply ·

June Mackendrick
June Mackendrick Ms Ross, you are as free as the next person to make assumptions on what I think, that however, does not mean your assumptions are correct, or that I am rude, its mearly your opinion, based on your perseption of my reply. Howevever to clarefy on that point, I appologise to Carol for any offence taken , for it was not my intention to offend, nor did I make any assumption of Carols political views. In addition since your response reflects you have misunderstood, I shall also explain that the point I was attempting to make, all be it apparently poorly from your misunderstanding of the my reply, which I do not appologise for, was that given the shameful behavior of MP’s as revealed in the expenses scandle, which I am fully aware did not just involve Tory MP’s but MP’s form other parties , The link I supplied served as an example that I had easily to hand, it was not given to me it is freely available on the internet. Additionally in the interest of unbiased I shall also now offer a couple example of this exploitive type of behavior from a former local labour MP from my area, Mr Brian Donohoe,…/local-mps-in-expenses……/edinburgh_and_east/8073203.stm . Finally, and with hindsight and in the interest of clarity, I believe given the exploitation by MP’s of the public coffers to line thier own pockets I believe the scheme is a good one and cheap at £160 a box particularly when you take into consideration the cost of packing and distrabution which , I presume create jobs even if the contents are donated for promotional purposes, and not taking into account the cost of production of the boxes. It is I beleive a good scheme that may safe lifes and as I already said previously give babies a fair and equal start. have a nice day Ms Ross. Ps, I after some consideration, think a injection mouldy plastic box which would double as a bath, be more hygienic and Ecco friendly, recyclable & I suggest as such, a cheap cost effective alternative, might be a viable alternative and safe less paupers coffin like alternative.
LOCAL MPs Brian Donohoe and Katy Clark have been quizzed about their House of Commons expenses.


It been a while since I posted anything here, and I certainly didn’t expect to be writing about such a tragic event like the Grenfell tower fire in London this week.

I had been basking in the joy and blessing of my new granddaughters birth on the 11th June, and had just returned from dropping my youngest son at Glasgow airport , he and his girlfriend had flew in to meet his elder brothers new baby and were heading back to Spain where they work after a very short and happy visit.

It was around 4.50am when I switched on the tv while having a quick cuppa before heading to bed, and saw the blazing invero of the tower block and I was brought back to earth with a thud , filling with horror , tears and emotion for all involved.

I’v experianced a house fire, twice in fact.

The first time was when my daughter was about 3 and 1/2 years old and we were living in a tenement on the Maryhill rd above the chemist where the fire started.

My daughter had got up during the night and came to my bed, the firemen told me later, it had probably saved her life as the fire had started in the back of the chemest below her bedroom , her bed was black with soot and smoke damage, and the fireman said had she been in it she would have been unlikly to have survived the smoke inhilation, the whole house was smoke damaged , that smell, it lingers and becomes a trigger.

The firemen were great , they woke me , got us out the house and also the other neighbours in the building. We were lucky and greatful not just for the job the firemen did saving our lives, and our home , but the kindness of the old couple who lived accross the street, who took us dressed in pyjamas with bare feet, in till we were checked over by paramedics , giving us blankets and phoning my dad to come get us and take us to my mums.

Years later when my eldest son was about 2 years old we were living at the high flats at Cedar st, where I grew up, and where my parents lived.

It was the fire in my home  that night, I remembered when I watched the Grenville fire unfold on tv.

The fire that night stared in my baby sons room,  a portable tv, I used to leave on for sound, which I felt kept him company, had caught fire.

It was around 11PM, I’d just got out the bath and was about to do some  ironing, & watch “Cell block H”, my dog began behaving strangly, agitated, and when I went to see what was bothering him,the fire alarm in the hall began to ring. As I reached the top of the stairs I could see the smoke coming from the babies room.

I remember running down the stairs and grabbing him out of the cot, then to my daughters room and waking her, getting them both out the flat, handing my daughter the baby, telling her to go down to there grans on the 5th floor, not to panic, to tell her gran to phone the firebrigade. I was kinda in auto pilot,  we lived on the 11th.

Neighbors came to help, they had already phoned the brigade, wee Jonny Linch , my hero, a lad of about 13 years of age. He ran in to the house , shouting

“Were’s yer cats june?”

Running up the stairs before I could stop him , in a flat black with smoke already filling the hall way , as I soaked towels to lay accross the bottom of the door of the room where the fire was, having already turned off the main power box supply.

It was terrefying, Wee Jonny Linch, came back down the stairs ,

” I open the veranda door for the cats” he said. ” we need tae get the fuck oot a here”

By then the fire brigade had arrived, and as they opened the bedroom door with big sheilds up, the window blew out, but these heros soon had the fire contain, under control and out.

No one was hurt, although there was extensive smoke damage . The children were taken Yorkhill childrens hospital to be checked for smoke inhilation. Where they were met by partner who had been working  at the time. I was taken to The Western Infirmary, accompanied by Charlie the local beat policeman, an aquaintance through the dance club I ran for local kids. He who had just finnished his shift and offered to keep me company at the hospital while I went through the blood test and waited for the all clear. I was greatful, for his comforting reasurances and kind words during those frightening , anxious , caotic initial hours after the incident.

It probably seems strange , but I don’t remember the date of either of these fires I experianced. Nor  do I remember what I had been doing early on the days they happened.

All I remember is the fear, the anxciety, the smell, and the stinging eyes from the smoke. I remeber the proffesionalism of the emergancy services and what they did , their bravery.

I remember how Charlie,  who went above and beyond the call of his duty..

I remeber the kindness and concern of neighbors who offered support and well wishes in the aftermath of my badly smoke damaged home.

I , we , were lucky, and as I watched the towering inferno that was Grenfell, I was taken back to that night at  Cedar st, and tears rolled down my face for those resident at Grenfell, those lucky enough to escape with their lives, and those who sadly didn’t.

I thought of all those people accross the UK who will be affected by what they’v seen unfold these last days , those who live in high rise building , and now think

“There but for the grace of god , go I…”

I know the flats at Cedar street are presently undergowing refurbishment, and I  think of them, because even over 20 years on Cedar st, is dear to me, it was home, where I lived on the 5th floor as a child and teenager ,where my partents lived most of their lives.

I think of all high rise  resedent accross the Uk who will be fearful of the state and risks that may be there and the effect recent events will have on their minds.

My heart bleeds for those who have lost everything in the Grenfell disaster, because let their be no doubt, this is a distaster, and I am greatful to all the heros of the frontline services ,and indeed, the ordinary people of the community who remind us of the importance of compassion and community, and compasion in the community  .

Most of all I pray that steps are taken to ensure this never happens again, in the UK or anywhere else, and as a UK Tax payer I demand a full tranparent inquiry and that those responsable for risk assesment and saftey who failed the resident of Grenfell tower are held accountable and brought to book.



An unplanned, random journey home.

I woke up about 45 – 50 minutes ago, with the words , reflections & connections vibrating in my head, related very much to how I spent my day yesterday.

I had no intention of writing this post or the content, here and now, I won’t say it’s not something I would not have written about in the future in a different way or format or perhaps just in a diary, and perhaps its as my dad said , “cart before horse “material,

but on the other hand ,  my mum used to tell me follow your intuition and my mum, was the wisest woman I have ever known, my guardian, my angel.

Frankly I don’t care if you believe what I am about to write or not, it’s very personal , highly charged with emotion and I share it only because of those vibrating words, reflections & connections, and I guess, because its relevant to The Hethen Project, which is about raising awareness of mental health issues, and the disparity in the difference of how mental health patients and physical health patients are treated.

Furthermore, its related to the birth of the Hethen project, and previous posts that go back to 2008/10 when my pages were called “justice uk style”  

These entries where basically describing where I ws back then and undoubtable a cry for help that largly went unheard regarding what I beleive to be violations of my human rights & what went on to become crimes of violance and abuses against me.

These incidents, coincidently will see their  8th anniversary in next few days, and which are probably why I have been on an emotional roller coaster of triggers to what I suggest is PTSD, for the last couple of months, coupled with other personal triggers related to mental health /illness within my family unit. These issues will be discussed in my autobiography “A girl from Glasgow”  which I hope to publish in order to fund the Hethen Project strategy. ….

So, related to my random, unplanned journey yesterday, which I don’t care if you believe or not, as some of what I am about to say can be supported by evidence, some can’t , and these that can’t I can’t explain, and all I suggest you can do in that respect, is analyse what I say, and reach your own conclusion as to what possible benefit there is in it for me in lying about it, including the consequences for me of the stigma attached to my assertions. remembering that this is MY TRUTH, and I don’t give a fuck if you believe me or not.

So, here we go, sit back and come with me on my random journey….where you get to decide if its truth or the workings of my creative imagination.

Yesterday morning I woke around 7.30ish maybe a little before or a little later , but I’ve been regulating my sleep pattern as mentioned in an earlier post, and that even coupled with a bit of an emotional roller coaster this past week, I’ve been off the cigarettes since I went to the chemist and got pissed off over the patches issue, iv just been using the wee plastic stick thing, and even then I’ve only been changing the capsule about every 3_ 4 days (cos it’s mostly psychological after 3 days) when the nicotine I think is mostly gone, except what I’m using to substitute to deal with the cravings, the addiction. I had a brief couple of days relapse, about 5 day in, I was borderline manic, and thrwat with emotions, and tearful, but I been cigerette free since saturday, I know I’m not out the woods yet, but I’m confident. Anyway that’s by the bye. so, yesterday…

As I sat drinking my tea and munching a slice of toast, I looked out on my balcony and there was a wee robin red breast having breakfast, I took a picture, but its not very good because of the rain on the window panes, I was very emotional. I recently found out, only a few months ago, that robins remind my daughter of my mum, her gran, who passed away in 1997. So, yeah, My heartfelt tight, as we had breakfast, silently together in my mind. Continue reading “An unplanned, random journey home.”

A road traveled…lessons learned.

Last night sometime after 10pm, I shared something on facebook with friends, that I hadn’t really intended to write let alone share here, however I realise that its relevant to what I last posted and serves as supporting evidence for the agenda of, not only, The unconventional thesis of a woman from Glasgow, but to demonstrate the therapeutic benefits of arts and alternative therapies, in the treatment of mental health patients, not only with depression but that come under the umbrella of mental & indeed social health conditions or illness via the case study as will be demonstrated in my book A girl from Glasgow, and indeed posts relating to The unconventional Thesis of a woman from Glasgow, which will I hope become clear in future posts.

So, here is what I posted.

This week I saw a post on FB asking, did you consider your vocal or written word better for expressing yourself, it’s a topic close to my heart, a topic that has caused me both joy and sorrow, and indeed, destress, on a number of levels.

So, tonight the news comes on, and I pause, take a deep breath…. and internalise my thots, pick up my computor and begin to type, when what I really want to do is scream at the tv, something I have been documented negetevly for doing in the past, and heres why; ( not why I’v been documented negetivly for doing in the past oviously , but why I wanted to scream at the tv!) without expletives which have been replaced with #.

“I am absolutly #ing appalled at the #ing audasity of the dispicable # spreading #, #ing Teresa May’s comments reported on the news regarding A&E crisis. How dare that # face # blame the heroic proffessionals of the NHS, who are doing the #ing best they can dispite the #ing caos caused by the #ing tory government and their Blairte preessessors. These # wits have been carving up the NHS for 3 #ing decades., trying to privatise and #ing sell it off to their #ing cronies.

The present #ing health secetary, the un #ing honerable #ing Jeremy Hunt , the #, who couldn’t flog jam to the Japanes, who has no #ing qualifications in health or #ing socialcare, who ponces about with a #ing face like a slapped arse,who has repeatedly ignored the #ing warning signs, not to mention, the #ing verbal and written warnings of #ing health proffessionals, #ing social care proffessionals, #ing doctors, consultants, nurses, care assistants, accademics, pacient advocate groups and uncle #ing tom cobbley and #ing all. What does the #ing P #ing M do she blames the people, that keep the #ing country on its sore # blistard feet.!!

Yes it appears that, the #ing esteemed smugfaced #ing #,aka Mrs May, appears to e oblivious to the #ing fact that this nations economy is dependent on the smooth running of the #ing NHS, the #ing angelic #ing workers, who look after every #ing one of us. While it is her #ing party’s #ing austerity cuts to funding, bugets and #ing services that is to blame.

I may only #ing know little, but I have studied social #ing health & social#policy. and you can #ing beleive me , this #ing government is on a #ing mission to dismantal the #ing NHS, and if we don’t stop them, we’re all #ed.

So, rant over, I shall now go sit on the floor, quiety, meditate and omm, on the matter, of which salution to the original question I do better at, and which is theraputically more benefitial to my stress and anxciety levels.

And perhaps thos of you who know me well might imagine what I might sound like or indeed look like as I express these words aloud, and perhaps let me know how you think I best express myself. However I will not accept, sleeping as a valid response.


So, here is my journey and conclusions on the above, and how it links, and has progressed since, in relation to my last blog “Guidance from a wise woman for a journey to come”

In 1995 when I took the advice of the wise woman, aka Mrs Forbs, to help recover from post natal depression I joined the writing group at The Harbour Arts Center in Irvine where I was living at that time.

I was in a very dark place, and when I first joined the group, I was reluctant to read any of my recent poetry, I was afraid I would give the wrong impression, I desperately needed to fit in, because I needed this time to be me, and be accepted as me.

As time progressed I have little doubt my poetry at that time reviled much about my depression, and as friendships grew I was able to confide various issues with friends I made there.

I remember clearly having a discussion with a poet friend who also suffered with depression, about the benefits of screaming and shouting and venting, not necessarily at anyone in particular, but just to release that pent up negative energy that we swallow down that can feel like a volcano errupting inside because sometimes life is hard, and shit, and not always wonderful, and how going to the beach, or a forest,  a footbal pitch or somewhere where the wind and rain and elements are in your face waiting for you, to scream it all out, and bring you internal peace.

I knew this to be true, and to be fair its a relatively harmless form of release.

At that time it was something I did when it all got to much, and I would storm out the house in tears and either walk to the nearby fields, where I would stand and bawl, or I’d get in the car and drive to a place right next to where I now live , park up , walk to the end of the harbour, or shore line and shout, providing of course there was no one around, which fortunately there seldom was.

Of course, shouting and screaming can be channelled more easily, and without even leaving the house if when you feel that urge to scream, and you pause, take a deep breath.. and burst into song!, I guarantee it can be a great way to defuse a heightened state of emotion, even if only because the ludacracy of it may cause you to laugh and laughing is alway , always a positive outcome.

Additionally, I suggest that the rhythmic breathing of singing helps us to control our breathing and thus the repetitive rhythm sooths anxiety and restores balance, perhaps this is why the catatonic rock , because it is calming.

A short time later, between 1995 and 1997 my GP in Glasgow introduced me to mindfulness, through breathing exercises, although I had no idea what mindfulness was then because I hadn’t heard of it. He taught me some basic, easy, breathing and relaxation techniques that could be done sitting or standing that only took a few minutes, to achieve positive results for anxciety.

I make no denial that I was prone to shouting at that time, probably more than I was willing to believe I did, and it added to feelings of guilt and anxiety.

I have almost always been vocal, loud and  impulsive, I am aware of this , most of it was, I think, a defence mechanism , but that’s for a later chapter. My father had oftimes advised me to put my mind into 1st gear before putting my mouth on excellorator!

That first pause, and breath, is,  I think, the first step is good self management of mental health and anxiety.

As I sat quietly after my controlled out burst as noted above, before I even reached the floor, my final paragraph had triggered a chain of thot in relation to what I had wrote, and I smiled, almost laughed, thinking of some of the reactions I’v had when I’v gone on a rant. I am quite an expressive person, prone to doing actions or waving my hands about when I speak, I have been told its can be quite funny to witness, if a little embarressing, and I thot how the same written dialogue, could be used as an arts based therapeutic exercise, to explore self awareness.

Not forgetting there are many ways of interpreting what was written, putting aside content topic for a moment, and that the tone has already been set as “appalled”, you, the reader have inserted the # word. So what if, as an arts therapy exercise we explore the same piece using only positive words for instance, #ing could be, caring or amazing or….. singularly, the hashtag sign, #, could mean any manner of words, providing they still made sense in contex.

Through exploring these avenues,  we can then consider ways to interpret them differently, perhaps through comic, or tragic preformance, or through dance, or song, and in the process we are not only learning positive ways of managing mental health conditions, we are raising self awareness and improving communication skills, skills that can help and impower us in many situations of everyday life.

Even better than that, we can use these “thinks” to raise awareness of positve mental health managment outcomes, via the arts and other holistic practices and therapies.

Additionally, if we take the sinario and express it perhaps through a painting or scetch, again, there are various avenues of expressing the emotions , ie, cartoons, or photo stories reflected in photography or drawings. With the same creative channelling of energy, that creates further life skills that could be developed into buisness skills, ie Tshirts, novelty  gifts ect to raise awareness of mental health issues. Furthermore the skills learned in that creative and theraputic prossess develops skill that can be carried over to many areas of employment and life skills, that empower us as individuals.

I think its prevelant also to mention that the topic content as trigger allows avenues of exploration on any number of subject that in themself further expand the various types of alternative interests that could be explored and always be shown to have the same positve outcomes.

As I sat quietly , I realise how far I myself have come in managing and controlling my own mental health conditions.

I don’t deny that I still get very emotional, and sometimes what to scream and shout with anger and rage, and even sometimes do, but that’s ok too, there’s a lot to get angry and upset about in this world, but theres also a lot to feel good about to.

I know from experience the benefits and therapeutic value of that pause , breath… focus 1st step.

Even as I stretched to pick up the laptop and began to type, the possess of mindfulness began.

The typing process itself, was my focus, I was suprised there were not more spelling mistakes I posted without spell check, of course there are errors that will infurate some people , whom I love dearly , but I know it will also make them smile, cos at the end of the day , my spelling is not really that big a deal, if what i’m doing by writing , even somewhat inconhereltly is preventing me from having to hang my head down the lavy pan as the byle projects out my slabbering destressed face in large volumes of vomit.

I am realeasing the beast, the negative energy in a positive , harmless way, and that is I beleive a positve outcome.

And, I expressed my right to freedom of expression, and opinion, without causing risk or harm, if you were offended by my words remember, you, inserted the # tag word, not I.

I firmly believe holistic therapy though the arts is a fundamental tool to the management of mental health and to bring an end to the stigma that erects barriers to good mental , emotional and social health outcomes .

And that I guess, is the primary objective of the agenda and stratagy of the Hethen Project which aims to raise awareness of how to achieve positive outcomes though the arts for those living with mental health conditions.

As a footnote I’d also like to say to all you spiritual smart asses out there, who make a link on the timing of my emotional outburst, and the enviromental and spiritual indcators related to positon of fullness of the moon, that is a topic I shall explore in more depth later when I descuss the benefits of understanding our byo-rythems and other interesting heatheny things, I mean come on, I haven’t called it The Hethen Project with out good reason, now have I . 🙂


“A journey of a million miles begins with one tiny step…”
you took yours now its my turn…

These were the words I scrawled across the freshly decorated wall in the living room of the marital home I was about to leave & lock the door on, for the last time. It was the spring of 1997, and these words felt like a fitting epitaph to my dead marriage.
The kids were waiting in the car on the drive, half an hour earlier I had waved off the van with all our worldly goods including the kitchen furniture, fittings, fixtures and sink, which a dear friend had helped me dismantle a few days earlier. I had been organising this move secretly for weeks, its true what they say ” hell hath no fury like a woman scorned”.

I had chosen this particular quote because my soon to be ex husband had used it when he had persuaded me to give up my independent, happy life as a single mum to one, indeed, he had led me to believe it was his own!!

I was a different person then, I hadn’t heard of Lao Tzu, though I had heard of Confucius, because as a child my mum began every little quote or words of wisdom she liked to say with the words “Confucius say…”

Of course it matters little which of these wise men said it, only that one of them did, because as I stared at that wall I thought, fuck , that’s a great quote!

I felt rather smug as I surveyed my graffiti work, in bright ruby-red lipstick.

He’d called me a crazy bitch many a time, now he was about to learn the extent of what this particular crazy bitch was capable of, and indeed, so was I.
There was little regret as I walked out the house, got in the car and drove away, telling the kids to wave bye-bye to the house. No fear or trepidation, no voice in my head filling it with doubt. I guess, in the moment I embraced it, I felt strong, stronger than I had for a very long time, and of course there was an element of anger, but it could be argued that there is strength in anger.

The months, in fact, the preceding years hadn’t been easy, there had been much to contend with, many emotions to mask and hide from many people, and not just in respect of my marital relationship.

I think its fair to say I had several stressful & emotional issues to contend with and not just in relation to myself but also relating to family health, and that particular journey began in 1995, when within days of  my dad dying unexpetedly from a heart attack and cremaiting him, I went for an antinatel scan and was told I had to be confined to hospital there and then. I had a grade A placenta previa and would have to spend the next 11 weeks confined to the hospital & bed rest. They agreed to give me a day or two max, to organise the family and I was addmitted for the next 11 weeks.

I was understandable distressed. I had a poorly, disabled, frail mother who was grieving to look after and support, not to mention two other children aged 4 & 12 who had lost their grandpa who needed to be looked after and supported, and I was well aware my husband wasn’t up to takeing care of them all properly, he was too busy working unsocial hours as a DJ, and fucking about with other women under the guise of buying and selling second-hand cars, though to be fair , he did fit a bit of that in too.

Of course I had no option but to go into hospital for the safety of my unborn baby and indeed my own health risk, so I made arrangements for the kids to stay with my mum. Friends, her neighbours and relatives, rallied round to help mum, and I tried to convince myself it helped support her though the moarning period.

Sometime, later when my baby was born, in the early summer I was diagnosed with postnatal depression. I would pinpoint this as my first proper diognosis of depression, although hindsight suggests I had lived with depression for many years before.

It was then I was fortunate to be guided by a very wise woman called Mrs Forbs, who was my health visitor who told me it wasnt surprising that I was suffering depression given I hadn’t even had time to grieve my dad before the pregnancy complications set in, and there was other stuff too, but as I said that was just the beginning of the journey….

In recent weeks I have reflected on The Hethen Project trying to put together an “about” description of where it began and what it is, for the purpose of this website I realised that I’ve been doing something my dad often found me guilty of , “putting the cart before the horse” because The Hethen Project is a path on the journey of a girl from Glasgow, a path still being forged with a horizon beyond, and it is also a seed sown on the path planted by a wise woman known as Mrs Forbs, but that is another chapter, for another day ….

the minfield of information & misinformation about mental health stuff

When it comes to descussing mental health conditions & mental health issues, if there is nothing else I am sure about there is one thing that I can absolutly garuntee you will find & that is, the humungus amount of conflicting opinions theories medical, phyciatric & scientific findings, missinformation & downright lies surrounding mental health conditions, issues, & indeed & probably most importantly some of the behaviors, often unfairly accredited to those who are affected by meantal health conditions,issues & problems.

These contridicting opinions coupled with steriotypicalazing labeling prosess, only serves to add to the many barriers & issues people with mental health conditions & their familes have to contend with when seeking treatment & information to help them address their conditions & manage them successfully.

This mix of good & bad information poses a minefield of dillmma not just for those suffering from mental health conditions , but also for students wishing to work in the mental health sector.
Which is why it is important, I think, that they don’t rely only on set text suggestions when researching their studies.

I firmly believe students & indeed, mental health conditon sufferers & their families should use as wide base research & study area as possible not just 1, 2 or 3 referance points acreddited to the most well known phyciatrists in the particular area of their condition like many do with schizophrenia & Freud, for example, but a much wider & certainly more modern approach is needed, because unlike when addressing a physical illness where a set number of diognosic tests & prognosis will be enough to treat & address the issue this is not the case with mental health conditions.

The Mental health sector of medicine covers a vast area of conditions & under its umberella there are physical, mental emotional & social conditions that may be contributory factors in both condition & how best to address them.

As medical models go for treating illness/health conditions, the holistic model of health is in all probability, the most suitable,as it incompasses a wider perspective with regard to the individuals needs & includes the pacients imput in the long term care planning & managment prosess.

My own personal opinion with regard to researching the mental health conditions is to look to pacients, past & present who have lived with mental health conditions,those who have come though the truama of the mental health abyss or continue to walk through it & live with it everyday & how they manage their conditions, how their conditions effect them & what advice they offer, because I believe there is no better advocate or teacher than those who have experianced the minefield of medical approaches & of course dellemmas their conditions pose.

Those of us who live with mental health issues today are fortunate that we live in a time when we are not wholey relient on the medical & phyciatric proffessions for support, unlike our predesessors in history with conditions like ours were.
We do not have to be subjected to the horrors & indignities of the mental assylums, we do not have to hide our conditions or be ashamed of who we are like they did, we do not have to allow ourself to be subject of discrimination & stimatisation based on the poor & unfair assumptions of others about our conditions.

We live in sumwhat more enlightened times, there are many support networks out there that can help us find our way through the laberynth of mental health conditions & the socail barriers & doorways that are avialable to us.

Yes there is a minefield of contridicting theories,findings & information, however,we can use that to our advantage, both as students familes, friends, carers and indeed pacients with mental health conditions.

We have the means at our fingertips to do thourough comparitive crytical anyaltical research and MOST IMPORTANTLY resourses that allows us to talk to and listen to people who have mental health conditions & issues.
The internet profides us information and research facilities, social networking support hubs & many thousand of blogs & other first hand account that can help us find & learn ways find methods to manage & cope with mental health issues.
There are libaries community groups & advice referane points; charitable organisations & community groups where we can seek & indeed give & share advice & experiances enabeling us not just to help ourselves but to help others & that initself can help you to feel better about yourself & your condition & build confidence.

So yeah, in conclusion, mental health is an area of medical & phycatric head fuck!
but, there is help & support out there, so use it to your best advantage & most of all be compassionate, mindful, thoughtful & caring, whither medical or phyciatric practisioner, student, family member, carer, friend or mental health condition sufferer because if its not you today it could be you tomorrow or the next day or the next day or the next…

Up ↑