Well, let’s just get straight to the point before I decide against writing this, shut my computer and watch The Office for the rest of the night.
Mental Illness'
The thing that everyone says they support and stand up for, but rarely ever do. And I know what some of y'all are thinking, and yes, I did wright this because of Demi Lovato's recent hospitalization. Why? Because her situation and struggles hit deep, real deep. So in honor of her always being open and honest about her mental health and addiction, I thought I would finally share mine. So here we go.
I can't tell you exactly where it all started because, to be honest, most of high school is a blurry mess. But one day I came back from a psychiatrist with drugs and a Depression label and I just rolled with it from there. One medication led to the next and I was spiraling in a manic depression that led me to do psychotic things that a new psychiatrist would later label as Bi-Polar II. During this time I had seen multiple doctors and been put on multiple different medications and been labeled having multiple different mental illness. However, the last one that was given to me during my time in Texas, was Bi-Polar II, so I left for college with medications and a new found fondness of "Silver Linings Playbook".
Once I was in college, that's when stuff turned from mild depression into, moderate depression. Now, granted, during this time I had been through a rough break up, so some would call this "situational depression". Situational or not, this was the first time I remember having suicidal thoughts. I was attending a Biblical Worldview Gap Year program in Branson, Missouri at the time, and I was constantly surrounded by friends and loving mentors. Despite having all these tools around me, I was breaking. I wouldn't leave my bed for days at a time, I would say I was sick to avoid going to class and being around people and if I ever was around people, I would only physically be there and would never engage in conversations or even eye contact. Eventually, things got better. I made new friends (because the old ones hated being around me)got a job, graduated the gap year program, got a promotion at my job and had an apartment and was living life on my own for the first time.
For one whole month.
Things got bad again, this time, however, life was going great. I didn't know why I was sad all the time, all I knew was that I was and I had lost another friend because I couldn't figure my life out. One night I got a bunch of drinks, turned on Harry Potter and kept drinking until I woke up to my accountability partner and old roommate standing over my bed telling me I had to make a decision. I didn't know what decision I had to make, but I knew I didn't want to feel like I did at the time, so I got up. That night they drove me to Mercy Hospital in Springfield, Missouri where I then spent 5 1/2 days at Mercy's Psychiatric ward. Now, if you've never been to a Physch ward, 1.) Congrats, you're already doing better than me 2.) The most popular thing to talk about (besides what movie ABC Family is playing that night) is why you're in there. And for each person that asked me, I never once had a solid answer. Just like high school, the days leading up to the physc ward were a blur. So, at this point, my whole life just felt like a blur. I hated myself and was never happy, but I also had been drinking a hell of a lot and was perfectly fine with drinking myself to death that night. So was I there because I was an alcoholic? Or was I there because I wanted to kill myself? The honest answer was because I wanted to kill myself and I had untreated mental illnesses that needed to be addressed, but I liked the sound of "Alcoholic" better because it seemed like less drama. So, after my time at the physc ward, I spent a lovely 6 weeks in College Station, Texas where I did outpatient rehabilitation and went to AA 2 times a week.
Since my time in rehab I have come to realize that I am not an alcoholic, but that I do have really sucky coping skills and impulse control, which can all lead back to the Bi-Polar diagnoses. Despite not being an alcoholic, I will say that the weeks in rehab have shaped me into a different person and have indeed helped with life and taught me how to better cope with issues. It still did not cure me of anything, though.
Alright, after rehab I got a dog (Harley, she's da bomb) went back to Branson, kept my job that I had at the time and continued living life like nothing had happened. Got another curve ball, best friend bailed on my because she didn't want to deal with everything that I had to(this is friend #3 also btdubs, mental illnesses and friends just don't mesh well), so I quit my job and got a new one and moved to Springfield all in about a month and a half (and all without drinking or smoking or doing anything that someone with sucky coping skills would do, I might add). Now, we're not going to talk to much about my Springfield days, but we'll skim through. Got my dream job as a Kitchen Director, got another dog, made some really really dope friends and ,this time, I had a house. I really thought I had it all, I thought this was me thriving. Let me tell ya, I have never been more unhappy, emotionally stressed, emotionally abused or physically stressed in my entire life then when I worked in Springfield. I started drinking almost every day, smoking almost every night and constantly belittling myself and others because that's how my boss ran his store. After a year, I finally made it out and moved to good ole' Joplin, MO.
Now, I would love to say that now that I'm in an outstanding work environment and surrounded by people who care about each other, that I'm 100% happy and living life again. But that is still not true. Depression has hit this year harder than any other year. I had been off medication for 2 years and self medicating with anything I could find. Only after getting involved with hard drugs and a co-worker telling my boss, did I finally get help. 3 different doctors have changed their minds, but my one I'm using now is saying Major Treatment-Resistant Depression and Major Anxiety. We're sticking with these two labels because for the first time since being diagnosed anything, the medication is actually working. It took multiple different trials on multiple different medications, one resulting in me swallowing a bottle before throwing my hand down my throat, but I'm happy again. Some days are still rough and it's noticeable, but it's one day every month or so compared to the almost year span where I felt like it was never going to get better.
Watching Demi's documentary made me cry and feel so much for her, because that can been me and one day. Hearing the news of her in the hospital after an OD made me cry because that could be me one day. Reading that many of her close friends left her because of her illness made me cry because that was me and still is me. If you have a friend or know someone with a Mental Illness or Addiction, reach out to them, let them know that you're there for them, and actually be there for them. You never know how much your friendship means to someone who thinks so little of themselves that they think the world would be better without them. And you don't know how much it will hurt them when you leave after saying you'll always be there.
Mental Illness' suck. Addiction suck. Everything sucks. But you can help make it suck less.
Don't be sucky, be there.
