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One of the most sacred relationships in society is the one between the consumer and his or her psychiatrist/therapist/counselor; the consumer wants that relationship to be very private, so that he can confess his sins, stresses and symptoms completely, without having to worry about what the rest of society thinks.

Furthermore, to be blunt, when the consumer is in session, he does not want the relationship with his caregiver corrupted by other peoples’ opinions that are often slanted accounts of his personality and history. Thus, when I first became ill, I was highly reluctant to give my family access to my doctors.

However, as my psyche stabilized and I grew to trust my doctors and the psychiatric process, I began to realize that if I wanted to keep my family in my life and I wanted to lessen the constant tension and conflict both with and within them, I had to let my family talk to my doctors.

The doctors and I had to prove to my family that I was not crazy, not dumb, not in a constant state of crisis and denial; that I am an adult human being, who may need treatment, but who is also entitled to his own opinions, his own perceptions, his own customs and his own way of doing things.

It was not easy letting my family into the psychiatric process because their first instinct was to report every odd (or allegedly odd) thing I had ever said or done, partly to make sure that I got the appropriate treatment, but also so that they could get me off their minds and backs and have the state baby-sit me instead of them having this responsibility.

To be frank, their constant updates to the treatment team on my behaviour were a bit embarrassing for both me and my treatment providers, but I and my providers eventually learned how to both control and tolerate this phenomenon, so that everybody could be happy.

Besides which, having a mentally ill mother—one who is severely ill, to the point where she has little or no insight into her condition, I knew what it was like to be on the other side of the fence: the concerned and frustrated family member who wants to know how to handle his relative and what to anticipate.

I’m not sure what other parent/child relationships are like, but in the case of my own family, my providing them with access to my doctors—and my getting access to my mother’s treatment team, were, for the most part, helpful for everyone involved.

Furthermore, an important benefit to having family involvement is that, especially in hospital situations—where the patient is very vulnerable and subject to the whims of providers or staff people with bad attitudes, the family is in a better position to protect the patient if the family is on top of the staff.

I observed that the entire hospital staff were nicer to me when they knew my parents and knew that my parents were involved. If they fear—or simply take a liking to the family, they treat the patient with more concern and respect.

I encourage consumers to make peace with their families and at least tentatively waive their privacy rights (you can always re-assert them) and I encourage families to stay involved with their sick relatives, even if you fear irritating the treatment providers