I worked for years from the time I was 18 to take care of my mental health. Unfortunately, it took me until I was almost 25 to make any significant progress. Healing from trauma, abuse, and addiction is not something that happens overnight. You have to be ready to be honest with yourself and others to truly begin to heal. The correct medication cocktail doesn’t hurt either. It takes a village to keep me sane (and about 10 pills a day).
The Beginning of an Era
I have been working steadily with a mental health team since I’ve been 1 month sober. My journey with mental health has been off and on since I was 18 (for the past 8 years). The first time I went to a therapist was when I was 13. I was forced to go against my will, but that’s a story for another time. When I got into my freshman year of college, I realized my family was right and that I needed to seek help for my mental adversities.
When I was first diagnosed, I received a fairly vague diagnosis of MDD, GAD, and PTSD. If you aren’t familiar with mental health jargon, this means major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, and post-traumatic stress disorder. I would come to find out 3 years later that I was misdiagnosed. After taking 2 years off my meds and discontinuing treatment, I sought help again when I was in the midst of one of the worst depressive episodes of my life.
At the end of the Covid lockdown, my best friend and I took a week-long road trip to Maine. I had experienced an incredibly high manic episode during this time. Some of the symptoms I experienced were derealization, dysmorphia, and impulsive decision-making. I mean, what mentally stable person decides to take a week-long road trip on a whim after just moving in with their grandma 2 hours away without a job prospect in sight? Upon my immediate arrival home, I broke down. I had come down from my high and reality had set in. I needed help again.
I scheduled a virtual appointment with a random psychiatrist I found online and spoke about my previous diagnosis and the symptoms I was experiencing at the time. My diagnosis had changed, and I was determined to be bipolar type 2. Of course, I did not want to admit that this was an appropriate diagnosis for me. Who wants to be bipolar? I had an internal struggle with this diagnosis but eventually trusted the expert and followed his orders to begin a new prescription. The struggle that I had with this prescription was that I shouldn’t drink while taking it. Well, for someone denying a battle with addiction, I often chose alcohol over my medicine. I didn’t take it as prescribed, so it did not work as it should have. Eventually, I gave up on this treatment plan too and decided to raw-dog life for a while. Fast forward another 3 years, and I decided to give myself another chance at redemption. What is it they say, third time’s the charm?
Meet My Team
August 14th, 2022, I decided it was time to get sober. I was a volatile, foul person when I was drinking and didn’t want to admit it. Until something happened that would inevitably change my life forever. One would think my lowest low would have happened 4 years ago after getting a DWI after a night when I didn’t even want to go out drinking. (I know this was very stupid, and I am embarrassed and disappointed in myself for this.) I didn’t realize how much alcohol was destroying my life until I had a bad experience at a concert. Again, that’s a story for another time. The best thing that came out of that was my sobriety.
A month after getting sober, I finally came to the realization that I couldn’t do recovery on my own. I had briefly seen a psychiatrist at a recovery center about 2 years prior who had allowed people to see patients for mental health support. Eventually, they closed doors to outside patients and went back to treating addicts and helping with recovery-only treatment. After a month of severe alcohol withdrawals and another massive depressive episode, I called the treatment center and admitted myself into outpatient rehab.
Of course, when I admitted myself the psychiatrist I was seeing before was on maternity leave putting my care in the hands of another psychiatrist. I also started seeing a therapist weekly and attending group therapy 5 times a week. Around 2 months in, I was able to start seeing my original psychiatrist and my therapist ended up leaving the organization leaving me to be handed off to someone new. I don’t do well with change so I was a little nervous. However, I have been in group therapy sessions with this therapist so I was willing to give her a chance. This isn’t to say I didn’t cry with my original therapist during my last session with him. I am happy to say I’ve been working with these 2 professionals ever since.
Where Are They Now?
I graduated from my outpatient rehab program in June of 2023 with the sign-off of my therapist. She had started her private practice, and I promised to continue to see her outside of the program. Thankfully because I still owed the organization a good amount of money (rehab is expensive) I could continue to see my psychiatrist at the facility. I have gradually cut down my check-in time with my mental health team. I now see my therapist once a month and my psychiatrist once every three months. I am finally on a path of healing and have found a good mix of prescriptions to keep my episodes intact and keep my auditory hallucinations at bay.
Although I have worked to find positive coping mechanisms such as finding new hobbies, journaling, yoga, and meditation, I continue to see my mental health team for maintenance. It is so refreshing to know that alcohol and drugs no longer have a grip on my life. I am somewhat free from the darkness and allow myself to feel my feelings instead of drowning them in whiskey. I am happier, cope better with my dark times, and advocate for myself in honesty and trustworthiness in my care team. I couldn’t be more grateful for the way things unfolded for me to end up in the care of two people I can trust most with my feelings and struggles.