Mental Health And Addiction

I’ve debated for two days whether or not to post this blog post to social media for fear that it would embarrass my family and friends, but I realized today that the more I read about other people who are struggling in ways similar to myself, the stronger it makes me feel. Mental health is so important. And for so many of us it means life or death. I’ve struggled with Depression, Anxiety, ADHD, OCD and Borderline Personality Disorder so badly that I was put on an antidepressant when I was nine years old. For some of us, it’s a lifelong struggle. Not necessarily with the diagnoses, but with doctors who are willing to prescribe you medications you need, psychiatrists, therapists, and counselors who are sometimes not even willing to treat you, insurance companies that only cover some medications (I’m currently on a new medication that’s a Tier 4 for Blue Cross Blue Shield and without the manufacture’s coupon, it’s over $400 a month that insurance won’t cover), employers that are or aren’t willing to give you time away for doctor’s or therapy visits and on top of the many logistical problems, the stigma.

Nobody asks to be this way, I assure you. And it’s not always straightforward. I’m not depressed 24/7/365. There are good days and there are bad days. And for someone like me, it’s a Catch-22. In November of 2016, I posted a thing on Facebook about this, I had a full on mental breakdown. My depression was out of control, I was starting to isolate myself in very unhealthy ways and I decided to take some time off of work and work with a new psychiatrist and therapist and I was put back on medication for the first time in many years. I believe I went home from the psychiatrist’s office that day with five prescriptions. For the next few weeks, I lived off of saved vacation and sick leave time from my job, then when the new year rolled around, I was granted six weeks of FMLA leave, unpaid. The regional supervisor of my company (not my boss, my boss was the bomb diggity) required me to present a doctor’s note upon returning to work stating that I could perform my job better or with the same ability as I could before I took leave. None of my doctors believed I was ready to return to work. I lost my job.

I continued taking prescribed medications and then for whatever reason, I felt like I had been on them long enough, they weren’t making me any better and I wanted to stop taking them. Without telling anyone, I stopped taking all my medications in November of 2017. On Christmas Day, 2017, depressed, suicidal and feeling like I had no way out, I packed one bag, didn’t tell my parents where I was going, and I left. Where I went isn’t important. Who I was with isn’t important. What’s important is that I ended up in the fetal position in someone’s bathroom, unable to breathe, and wanting to die. The depression consumed me. And the thing about my ADHD, is it’s a combo ADD/ADHD. I absolutely have the hyperactivity component of ADHD, except my “hyperactivity” is mental, not physical. Hyperfocus with ADHD can sometimes be your lifesaver when you’ve procrastinated and you need to get something done, but if your brain is only hyperfocused on the most awful intrusive suicidal thoughts, you’d do anything to make them stop.

So I did drugs. Banging Crystal Meth to be exact. Go big or go home, right? When you've tried all the right things and they don't work, you'll try anything. So here’s where I’m about to get into some very unpopular opinions, but hang with me here. It saved my life. I’ve never been a drug user, a drinker, socially, but with the exception of the medications I was prescribed, it’s never been my thing. Imagine that. But, laying in that floor, wanting nothing more than to die, I would have taken anything to make it hurt less and what was available to me at the time was Meth. You know you’ve read those articles where they take about if you give Adderall to your kid, it’s the same as giving them Meth, ok… yeah, kinda. I’m not a chemist and I can’t tell you all about chemical compounds, but it is pretty close. I took Adderall for years, then switched to Vyvanse about six years ago, which, to me, is 10 folds better than Adderall.

But moving on, just like most drugs, Meth gives you all the feel goods. It floods your body with Dopamine which is what makes you feel what I call “content.” I’m not going to get all science-y here because I’m not qualified to discuss chemicals in your brain. But this is my unpopular experience with Meth, it saved my life. I think because Meth was so closely chemically related to medication I had been on for most of my life, I felt like I was breathing for the first time in a long time. I felt like this fog in my brain was gone. I felt like I could get up in the morning and not be a zombie. I felt like I could think clearly for the first time in almost two years. Yes, of course, there were downsides. I didn’t eat properly, I stayed up for days at a time, went into debt, eventually got arrested, spend a month in jail, and lost custody of my child.

So here’s the thing about mental health that’s tricky. I’ve been back home since October after spending 27 days in a 90 day rehab facility where they didn’t think I needed to be on any medication. Yeah, okay. So I came back home, got on new medication, starting seeing a new therapist and sitting here today, I can feel myself getting worse. I ate for the first time in two days yesterday. I showered for the first time since Sunday last night. I feel stuck in that place again that a year ago I felt so compelled to escape from. It’s terrifying. Nobody wants to let themselves get back to that place. Especially if you are a self-aware person and you realize it’s getting bad again. It’s exhausting to fight against yourself every day. It feels like my body wants to get up and fight and my brain is just like “nah, guh, not today.” It is a miserable battle to fight against yourself because one of you will lose.

So I plead with you, if someone you know or someone you love is struggling, not only with mental health issues, but addiction of any kind, save your judgment, your snarky Facebook memes, and harsh words for your therapist. Because if you’ve never endured the kind of hell that makes you want to end your life, you have no place to judge how that person chose to escape from it. Some of the kindest people I’ve ever met in my life were/are addicts. They put a roof over my head when I didn’t have one. Fed me when I was hungry and never asked for anything in return except to be kind to those that are struggling. Not every addict is created equal. Not everyone on Meth is outside vacuuming their lawn naked at 4:00 a.m. and planning on stealing your shit.

Addiction and mental health, more often than not, go hand and hand. Misdiagnosed, undiagnosed and untreated mental health problems are such a huge underlying cause of addiction. I’ve seen it first hand in myself and in others that I care about. So if you or a loved one is struggling, they don’t need your judgment, they need your compassion and love and company. I don’t have a car at the moment because I let my tag expire and I’m not working so I don’t have $224 to get a freaking sticker (don’t get me started), but the loneliness is excruciating here at my parents’ house. Y’all, call your friends who are struggling, unless it’s me, you know better than to call, you better text. Tell them you miss them. Instead of saying “hey, let’s get up soon,” say “hey, I’m on the way to your house, you need anything, I’ll be there in 20.” I know everybody is busy with their own lives, but take a minute today to think about the people you care about who are having a hard time and let them know you care.