Mental Health (trigger warning)

In 2017, we saw an increase in suicide reports and it was further brought to mainstream thanks to 13 Reasons Why on Netflix. Children and adults took their own lives for reasons from bullying to mental illness. Some felt that the proper solution was to create such horrific acts against people that they knew they would be killed (suicide by police). Some tried to call out for help to be ignored while others suffered in silence. Some had extensive histories of mental illness that was ignored, until it was to late. No matter the reason there were things happening that caused a person to feel that suicide was their only option. Sometimes it came out later that a person suffered from depression, others it was complete surprise.

Mental health and illness are often stigmatized to the point where people do not feel comfortable talking about their issues and many times there are no signs of a problem until it is to late. Mental health problems can present themselves in many manners. Anxiety. Depression. Bipolar. Self harm. PTSD. Should you be ashamed if you suffer? Absolutely not! These are not things that a person can just turn off and on. It is a constant internal battle. I feel that it is so important to discuss mental illness and to end the stigma because I suffer too. Below is my story.

For years I felt that I had to suffer in silence. I would be up one day and down the next. I would cry for no reason or laugh my head off. Cuts would show up on my body, bruises too. If I had a hard time styling my hair I would punch myself in the head. I didn't know how else to cope with all that I had been through in life.

When I was eighteen I lost a person close to me and was taken to the doctor. I was prescribed my first antidepressant, Prozac. It was also suggested that I go to counseling. My first appointment with the counselor was not an appointment where the counselor asked me why I was there or why I was suffering at the time. It was a dive right into problems. Problems that didn't exist. I was there to help cope with the loss of a loved one, not be told that my relationship with my fiancee was the cause of all the problems. Needless to say I did not return to that counselor. I continued to take my medicine and cope as I had in years past.

2001 was a year of hardship for me. I lost my papa, my boss who was like a father to me, and my aunt who was my best friend. Again I was faced with increased depression and prescribed Prozac. At this point I felt that it was the go to medicine for doctors. During this time I took to drastically changing my look as coping. I bleached my hair nearly platinum blonde. Having nearly black hair that didn't end well. My hair was so bad that it was straw and it had to all be cut off! To dye it back was a process and time consuming. Other personal issues were arising and coping was becoming unbearable. Dark thoughts were creeping in and ending it all was sounding better and better.

Again I sought out a counselor to try and work through my problems. I had so much to look forward to because I was going to become a mom. I needed to get to the root of my problems and work through them. I refused all medication because I didn't want to endanger my unborn child. I sat in the room and it was a lot nicer than the first counselor. It had a homey feeling. I had hopes that this counselor would be able to help me through my problems. Again we sat down and talked about why I was there. This time I was able to make it through the first appointment. I scheduled my follow up appointments. These appointments did not go as planned. I was there to talk about current issues and all this counselor wanted to talk about was how my mother was the cause of all the problems that I was having. My mother had nothing to do with the issues that I was having! I decided that I was better on my own journaling my feelings.

For years I remained medication free. I was handling my symptoms through meditation and exercise. After my youngest child was born I wasn't snapping out of it. My doctor diagnosed me with post partum depression (PPD). I had heard about it before but never thought about it happening to me. Once again I was put on medication for my symptoms. This time I ended up with what doctors thought was a four month case of pneumonia. Only after researching on my own did I find out that I didn't have pneumonia but I had an extremely rare allergy to the medication that I had been given. Back to the doctor I went armed with my information. Another medication was prescribed and on I went with life.

My medication worked for years. Until one day it stopped. My moods were bonkers. One minute I was high and shampooing carpets at 4 a.m. and the next I was sleeping the entire day away. The only time the lack of sleep was beneficial was when I had to write research papers. Of course when that was needed I much preferred to read or watch movies. A friend stepped in after noticing how bizarre I was acting and gave me the option to go to the doctor on my own or I was going to be committed. Obviously I took option one and met with my doctor. I was referred to psychology and diagnosed with bipolar disorder with manic tendencies. I was also diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder. I was a mess.

Medication after medication was given. Some made me so tired that all I could do was sleep while others made me permanently manic and I hardly slept. After a few courses of this my husband stepped in and said no more. I was removed from all my medications and put on a vitamin regimen. I took over twenty vitamins a day (not all at once). After days I was a different person. I was happy. I was sleeping like a normal person. For all intents and purposes I was cured. Wasn't I?

After a car accident I was diagnosed with PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). When I am in a car I get panic attacks when another car comes to close, someone slams on the brakes, or if I am in-between a semi and a concrete wall. There are times that it does cause issues but I have learned how to cope with the issues that present themselves. If I am not driving I will play games or read for the duration of the trip so that I do not see everything going on and do not have a panic attack. If I am driving and something happens people can talk me through my panic attack. More often than not I pull over and let the feeling pass before continuing on my trip.

Today I still struggle but I do not struggle in silence. If I am having a problem I reach out. I talk to the people I trust to not be judgmental about how I am feeling and to support me through my episodes. I have learned that talking may not end the episode but it does make those people aware. I still have to work through my episodes but I have found the things that work for me. I still take my medication but that is because I am afraid of going to such a dark place that I can't come back from. I take the lowest dose possible. I use working out and aromatherapy to help combat the intensity of my episodes.

I will continue to speak out about mental illness forever. I want everyone to know that no matter how much a person suffers that there is always someone who will listen. No matter what I am going through I will always listen.

#MyStory