A new edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual is coming out, the fifth such.
The DSM gives your “mental health provider” a code for your “adjustment disorder” or whatever, so that he or she may bill your insurance carrier, and if he or she is an MD, prescribe suitable psychotropic drugs.
The new version continues the trend of medicalizing everything. If you don’t feel happy happy happy all the time, then you need drugs and therapy. Some people disagree, but they are standing in front of a pharmaceutical bulldozer. (Sell more drugs! Sell more drugs!)
Mishegas Minor: This category refers to most of us most of the time. We’re all a little mishugah, right? For example, a young woman who worries because the young man she is engaged to is more excited by a New York Knicks victory than oral sex.
Yes, we’re all a little mishugah, but once you have been diagnosed and coded, your civil, parental, and other rights start slowly to disappear because some social worker thinks you are “disordered.”