User talk:BarkingFish/letter to wp+wmf
What follows on this page is a true and honest message. Please read it and take it in the spirit in which it is meant.
From me, to you: An open letter to Wikipedia and the WMF.
Cambridge, England; June 18th, 2015
I'm writing this letter to you all as Wikipedians and Wikimedians, to help answer some of the questions I've been getting from some of you by email since I was unbanned by the English WP BASC a couple of months ago. Since a lot of the problems I had, spilled over into WP, I thought this would be a good way to help people understand what went wrong, and how.
My name is Thor and a little over 2 years ago, I was diagnosed with some fairly heavy mental health problems.
I'd been working as a pediatric flying doctor in Munich for a while. I was enjoying my work, but little did I know what kind of problems it was going to cause me. Because of those problems, I no longer work in medicine at all.
Pediatrics is very up/down kind of work - life and death are all part of work in PHTLS and medicine in general; when it's a child in your hands and you know that your own decisions and the instructions you give to other people could influence whether that little life goes on, or stops - it becomes so much harder to cope with.
I thought I was strong. I thought I could get through it. Some doctors say that the only way they can carry on is to separate their life at home, and their life at work. How any doctor can walk away from their job at the end of their shift and, without another thought, simply turn off and go home until the next time they walk through the door and "switch on", is incomprehensible.
If I've just spent 2 or 3 hours dealing with the fallout from a road accident, a seizure, extensive head trauma...my mind is on the patient. You can't just stop thinking about it. You eat, sleep and breathe medicine. It's your blood, your heart, your life.
I'd done everything from seeing babies with V&D up to treating children with injuries so severe that life itself was a struggle to keep hold of; on more than one occasion, my team and I lost our grip on it. I've bought life into the world. I've actually lost life in my arms. You feel like it's your fault, even if it's not, and that hurts.
Nothing can prepare you for that moment when you have to go and tell parents that the most precious thing in their lives won't be there to greet them anymore; won't be there to smile at them in the morning or to get a kiss goodnight before being tucked into bed. Every single time is just as hard as the first time - there is no "it gets easier the more you do it". What utter rubbish.
I first noticed things were starting to go downhill very quickly, about two months into the job; I was going home at night physically and emotionally drained, too tired to stay awake, too switched on to sleep.
I went to see my own doctor, who suggested that I take a week or two off work and give myself a little space.
That little bit of space did me the world of good. I went back to work a fortnight later with all the bounce I'd had when I left the UK and moved. Within a couple of months, I was back in the same place. It seemed to me that the up and down of the job wasn't just the highs and lows of helping the children, of them getting better or not, it was me going up and down as well.
Stress does strange things to people. I was referred on to the hospital's staff counsellors, who made arrangements for me to go and see them once a week, but also gave me an "open door" where I could go when I was on a break, or even on a day off. This was very helpful and gave me a sounding board to bounce things off. But it wasn't good enough. Just a few months later, I fell apart like a flatpacked table under a Walrus. Somebody had cut a hole in the bottom of my bag of marbles, and I lost them.
It wasn't just my job that fell apart though, other parts of my life slipped out of control around me. I'd been writing for Wikipedia for over 7 years, on a number of medical topics, been involved in medical discussion and helped other people who wanted to learn about medicine.
My work went further than that though; I'd helped the WMF with at least one fundraising campaign, been trusted by people who I'd come to respect, and who respected me...I loved every minute of it.
I'd worked on Wikimedia Commons reviewing files, I'd worked for Wikinews as a writer and for a while, as an administrator too; I'd administered one entire Wiki almost on my own; It was like WP and the WMF had woven itself into my life. I couldn't be apart from it. Yes, I was a grumpy s.o.b sometimes, but who isn't? People knew that was just a part of me.
That slipped away when my health problems leaked into my editing on WP; I wound up talking to myself and having multiple identities all editing - a strict no-no. I shot myself in the foot, and promptly committed what is known as "suicide by administrator", essentially owning up to extremely serious shit which I never actually did, in order to get myself banned. I couldn't cope with life, work, Wikipedia, knowing that others could see the cracks in the plaster. I was throwing away more than 7 years of work. I took my own sword and gave it to someone else to finish me off with.
Around that time, my life in medicine stopped. I voluntarily presented myself before the board of the hospital I was working from and resigned. The hospital were willing to move me to what they deemed as "lighter duties", but that wasn't the deal, that wasn't what I signed up for. If I couldn't be in the thick of it without falling to pieces, it wasn't where I wanted to be.
Two months after finishing my job, I moved back to the UK. I couldn't handle being in Germany, knowing that the work I'd gone out there to do was now beyond my grasp. I kept wanting to go back and say, "look at me, I am better, I can do this." - but I knew that was never going to happen.
Today, I am being treated for my problems. The drugs I receive are helping me to clear my thoughts and bringing me back to the level plane that I want to be on. I hope soon to be able to go and find myself another job but I know it will be tough to reconfigure my mind to forget the past.
I actually don't want to forget some bits, the people I worked with, the children I cared for, those who survived and those who didn't - but I know that if I don't clear some of this out, it will go on forever and I will never get back to being the person I once was.
Three or four months ago, I finally plucked up the cojones to open up about myself, properly, to the Wikipedia community. It was tough, I can tell you. Having to openly admit to a group of people you feel that you know but that you have never met, that you have been mentally unstable and are now on permanent mood stabilisers, receiving therapy and mental health support, is bloody hard, I can tell you.
But I wanted my life with you, back. I missed people, I missed friends, I lost contact with those people whom I'd formed a strong working relationship with. After two years on the sidelines, it was time for me to pick up my life and show people what was wrong, and how I wanted to fix it.
I was unbanned after I appealed to the BASC subdivision of the ARBCOM. My work is restricted, in that I no longer edit any specific medical or medicine related topics or pages (my own choice), and I'm not allowed to be anyone else other than me! Why would I want to be? As long as I have a life, and it's mine, that is all that matters now.
Thank you to everyone who has supported me through my troubles. The old chapters are written, that book is now closed. I've already opened a new one and the pages are getting filled.
This is the last thing I will be saying about these subjects to Wikipedia - I know you have had questions - and I am glad that you had the balls to ask them. Some people would have just assumed I was some sort of nutjob and got the cattle prod out to keep me away! But now I've answered your questions and tied up the loose ends, please give me the space to replant myself and get back into Wikipedia.
Please be good to each other, people; some days, it's the only thing that will keep you moving.
BarkingFish.
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