http://aheartfeltmanifesto.blogspot.com/2012/04/12-large-larry-sweeney-mental-illness.html
When I wrote about my struggle with depression in April, I had no idea of the response I would get. I didn't know if one person would read it or ten. I didn't know if people would scoff, accusing me of seeking more attention, or think I was looking for sympathy, or believe I was putting the blame for my actions some place other than myself.
I can honestly say I was and continue to be overwhelmed by not just how many people have read it, but by the overwhelming support and encouragement people have responded with. Despite what I say and how open I can be on social media, I have never been completely open talking about my mental illness. And to be very honest, I'm not as bad as other people are.
I work at a hospital that treats people for drug and alcohol addiction, but also with mental illness. I have seen people come in that have just suffered their first manic episode; I've seen people that cannot stop crying due to suffering an earth-shattering event; I've seen people who talk to themselves and see hallucinations. Compared to these poor people, I know my depression is not as bad or as deep as it could be.
Still, sometimes I spiral downwards. After my grandmother passed away in May 2002, regret tore me up and as my family started to fall apart and fight among themselves (I have cousins from my grandmother's side of the family that we don't speak to; and my aunt has cut herself off, lost to her own addictions), the only way I felt any measure of control was to cut myself. It was my way of saying that I was in control of myself, no matter what outside events occurred, I still could control my own body. One of the only scars I still have from that time is a cut on my wrist. It's not very noticeable but it reminds me of a quote from the "Red Dragon" movie. Dr. Lecter says, "And be grateful. Our scars have the power to remind us that the past was real." I look at it from time to time. It serves as a reminder of how far I went - and how I never want to get back to that point.
Depression is different for everyone. What I feel, what I go through, is not the same as what somebody else goes through and what they feel. I can only write about my experiences and know that they are subjective. This post isn't as organised as the first one, this is more my own thoughts and feelings and musings on the past and present. The first one brought up a lot of emotions and memories I hadn't thought of in a long time. It wasn't easy to be as honest as I was, but the fact that I've had nothing but positive responses lets me know that I did the right thing. One person told me that it gave them more of an understanding of depression. That meant a lot to me, as did everyone's words of encouragement and support. It was a way to show people what I have dealt with, and continue to deal with, and a way to explain why I say or do the things I do online and off. This post though, this one is more to show others that they aren't alone if they are struggling with mental illness. Writing helps me deal with things, maybe it can help others who are going through similar experiences, or those who know someone who needs help.
A lot of the way I am was shaped by my experiences in middle and high school. Whether the depression was triggered by these, or whether it would have manifested if I had had a better time, I don't know. I know I wasn't prepared to enter life after high school, and the abrupt shift from one phase of life into the next probably triggered some of it, as I can remember asking mom, "Work, work, work - is that all there is?" When she said, "Yes" that threw me for a loop.
At work, when I answer the phone and it's someone who saw our number on their caller ID, they ask what kind of facility this is. Inevitably when I tell them it's a hospital for mental illness as well as drug and alcohol rehabilitation, their tone changes. "Oh. Well I don't know anyone who would be in that kind of facility." I may as well have said, "Oh this is a leper colony."
Do these folks really think that someone in their circle of friends or family hasn't gone through some kind of struggle in their life at some point? That someone hasn't battled addiction (of any kind), or experienced a mental crisis? Is it still that taboo and risque to admit that - surprise, surprise! - not everyone is perfect and flawless? I'm glad that there are facilities like the one I work at that can help people who need it.
The strongest people in life, I've found, are the ones who can admit that they have a problem and need help to handle it. Not cure it, not fix it - you can't 'cure' addiction or mental illness, only treat and try to handle it. I admit, I thought years ago that was the case but it isn't. No body is perfect, we all have our demons and our weaknesses and our illnesses. At some point, we all need help. And you know what? There is nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing at all. We are all human, we all feel, we all bleed and when we stumble there is nothing shameful about asking for help to get back up.
God knows I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the help I received at various times in my life. When I left high school, I was so shy and inward that I couldn't even make small talk with a cashier at a store. Seriously. It was THAT bad. I went to counseling and slowly but surely she helped me face my fears and start opening up little by little. Now I'm comfortable enough to not retreat into myself at the cash register - it's such a small thing that folks take for granted, being able to smile at another person and ask them how they are. (Of course, online is another case entirely. I've always been able to be more open and free, starting when I frequented chat rooms on America Online. The anonymity that the 'net offers is a very freeing thing. Sometimes too freeing.) Over the years, as I started to learn and grow in the world and realise the issues that are important to me, I'm more confident and able to speak up and out on most every kind of issue. Once I would have shied away from debate but now I embrace the chance to speak my mind.
Me from 17-23 would be amazed at 30 year old me.
However, the larger point is, I would be almost unable to function in the world if I had not gotten therapy when I needed it, for that and for other issues. I am currently on Zoloft. None of this makes me abnormal, a freak or crazy. It makes me human.
Although, I do confess, at times I think this may ultimately prevent me from having a lasting relationship. Because I can be very hard to deal with during my down times, and sometimes the smallest thing can set me off. I used to not care, I was fine on my own and never expected to get married, nor did I have any desire to. But things change, and deep down inside, all of us want to be loved and to love. Unselfishly, whole-heartedly, with all we are body and soul. It takes a very strong, supportive and compassionate person to be willing to go the distance with someone who has a mental illness.
I try not to think about it. After all, I wasn't looking when I met Lee, and people always say something happens when you least expect it. But at the same time, I wonder. If the distance hadn't been an issue, would he have been able to put up with me? There were times when I frustrated him, I know, and I fear it would be the same even if I met someone who lived next door to me.
Edit. I do not suffer from addiction but several people in my family do, including one I am close to. Let me share their story. Her real name will remain private but I'll call her Wendy.
Growing up, she was shy like me, never got into trouble. She got married right after graduation and had a daughter. But her husband started to become paranoid and before it got too bad, they divorced. It was a bad time but fortunately Wendy's parents were around to help support her and the child.
When she met her second husband, he was into a wild scene and it was the first time Wendy had been exposed to that life. She always made sure her daughter was with her parents, so she were never exposed when they were under the influence. He introduced her to drugs such as LSD/acid and alcohol. It was a wild time but after a few years, she discovered he was cheating on her and they divorced.
She was clean for a little over 10 years when a cousin gave her cocaine. She tried it and got hooked. Wendy became paranoid, nervous and racked up debts. Finally her immediate family got together and gave her an ultimatum - if she didn't get clean they would take her youngest daughter away. That, together with her work sending her to a counselor that finally got through to her, finally broke through. She went to rehab for a year with that counselor, got fully clean and hasn't had a relapse since.
Wendy is a recovering drug addict has been clean for over 15 years now. People who suffer from addiction relapse several times before they finally break the habit. That 'itch' never goes away though. Never. It eases up and the voice grows quiet, but that is what it means to be an addict. You are always recovering, you are never cured. There is no such thing as a cure for addiction. It's something you fight every day, but even if you relapse, that's okay as long as you get back up and try again. Always try again. Never give up. It's hard, it's a life long struggle but it is possible to get clean and stay that way. There is hope.
This ends my edit, because the rest of this holds true for addicts and those who have mental illness.
However. Beyond all of that, my core message is this. If you are suffering from addiction, depression, or any other kind of mental illness:
You are not alone.
You are not hopeless.
Do not feel shame or weak.
There is help out there.
Reach out. If only to a friend or a family member, reach out to and talk to them. Together you can get help and start to breathe again. Google "mental health/addiction help services" for your area and I can almost guarantee that there will be phone numbers listed for you to call or places you can go. Or, if someone you know is having problems, don't wait for them to reach out to you, extend a hand to them. You never know, the one time you ask, "Can I help?" may be the crucial time.
Love. Compassion. Forgiveness. Kindness. Understanding. Hope. These are things that someone who is suffering needs the most. This can't be said enough. Never discount the comfort that a shoulder to learn on can offer.
President John F. Kennedy said the following in a speech about the Cold War but I think it applies here just as much:
"Our most basic common link is that we all inhabit this planet. We all breathe the same air. We all cherish our children's future. And we are all mortal."
