The Psych Ward: A Preface

I've thought a lot about how to start this blog. I've probably written and rewritten this post thirty times. I wanted it to be perfect. But, that's sort of the whole problem, isn't it? We have this idea of how everything in our lives should be, how we're supposed to act, and how we're supposed to think. The only problem is that real life happens and we aren't who we think we should be. One day we look in the mirror and we no longer recognize ourselves. We're different. It isn't a bad thing, but I think we sometimes lose sight of the bigger picture. We are alive. We have so much potential. It's with this potential that we become something. When we hit our rough patches, we face them and try to survive. That potential is tested and tried. As for us? We learn, we grow, and we become. Sometimes it takes hitting rock bottom to see it, though. That's what this blog is about- how I hit rock bottom and how it became the trajectory of my "new" life.

***

I'm getting ahead of myself.  For those of you who have never met me or don't know this very personal aspect of my life, these posts might be sort of a shock to you. Three years ago, I was a senior in high school and only a select group of people knew that I was going through some pretty heavy stuff. Quite honestly, I couldn't comprehend the full extent of it. It was all piling up and the storm was just preparing to touch down. Thanks to this thing called denial, I'm pretty sure most people around me would never have guessed the baggage that I was carrying. As time progressed and I moved on to bigger and better things, my baggage came along, too. It followed me from high school to college. But it grew exponentially as time passed. I turned a problem into a catastrophe by waiting and delaying help. Denial is a funny thing- you feel good while you're in it, but then you feel even worse than before because it's had time to fester inside.

I was extremely good at faking it. I could (and still can!) throw on a perfect smile despite my insides eating me alive. I can laugh and joke and push it aside when needed, which is why I was able to get so far into my life while struggling with an undetectable disorder. Except, there were cracks showing. Outbreaks of emotions, sudden periods of quiet, and rambling hysteria were all moments of distress when I couldn't control my emotional instability. Rather than the hormonal, PMS-stricken, bitchy teenage girl many of my friends and family saw me as, I was struggling with something much more serious and terrifying. For years I struggled with completely treatable mental disorders, but was too scared (and proud!) to say anything to anyone. I was afraid that people would no longer see me as this independent, smart, fun-loving girl full of potential. I feared that the second I reached out for help, I would become less than human. I was afraid of how everyone around me would view me, rather than fearing how I would one day see myself.

I wouldn't be here writing this, though, if I hadn't made the biggest, hardest, and also the best decision of my life. When I was 20 years old, I was struggling hard core with myself, my thoughts, and what I perceived to be my reality. What most people don't know about me is that I have Major Depressive Disorder (clinical depression), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), and Bulimia Nervosa. Throughout all of that, I also struggled with an addiction to pills that helped to mask the chaos taking place inside my mind. It was taking over my life. I couldn't think clearly; I couldn't see the point of living. Over the course of my first two years in college, I had multiple periods of time where the thoughts in my mind got pretty dark and scary. During the first 6 months of my freshman year, it seemed like the world was against me and I could feel my life collapsing before my eyes. However, I somehow pulled out of that first real episode and thought "Okay, well that sucked. Good thing it's all over and I can move on from this". And for a while, I did. For the next 8-10 months, my life seemed to be smooth-sailing. I worked my butt off over the summer and loved every minute of it. I was pretty nervous about returning for my sophomore year of school because I feared my depression and twisted thoughts would return. Much to my relief, the year started off wonderfully and I felt myself thriving. Fast-forward to Christmas break and things started to crumble again. By the second week of January, I was back in my apartment starting my second semester and the dark, twisty thoughts were back along with a lot of suppressed anger, resentment, and guilt. I reached out for help, but I was spiraling out of control faster than I could receive the help I needed. I had let myself unravel too far and I needed serious professional help. On February 27, 2014, I checked myself into a psychiatric facility for five days to be treated with the help I needed.

Why does it all matter? I didn't know much about mental health and mental illness before these experiences. I grew up in the same media-skewed bubble as everyone else and didn't think it could ever happen to people I knew, let alone myself. I thought that once you were "crazy", there was no coming back. We joke and laugh about psych wards and mental illnesses like they're some distant freak show. NO. It is so real. People all around us struggle with it and we have no idea. This blog matters because it could save someone's life. You could be reading this while struggling with similar things or know someone struggling with similar things. We are afraid of the unknown. I know I was afraid of all of this before learning what it really means to be mentally ill. I wish I had found a blog like this when I was in the midst of it. I wish that I'd had a better understanding of what it means to be mentally ill before going through this. I wish people understood how it makes me cringe when they talk lightly of mental illness. Cracking jokes and adding to this hate-culture doesn't cause you to become immune to it. All it does is add to the stigma and push people further and further into the darkness. Seeking help for this real disease- in whatever capacity necessary- is neither weak nor shameful. It's actually one of the bravest things a person can do (I might be slightly biased). There is a HUGE stigma surrounding mental illness and the time is now for us to change the way we view it, talk about it, and treat it. We live in a country where we like to believe that everyone is treated fairly and equally. I hate to burst that naive bubble, but it's not happening. There is a group of people hurting from a treatable disease because they are afraid to get help. WHY DO WE DO THIS TO OURSELVES?? 25% of the adult population will suffer from a mental illness at one point in their lives. Why don't we get the conversation going and help people get the help they truly need? I'll tell you why: it's because of the stigmatized culture we have created. We might not have the power to change society on our own, but we can definitely change our own personal views. While one person's views might not seem like a big difference, one by one we can make a change.

***Disclaimer: This material is real and I do not plan on censoring anything because of the nature of this topic. There will be posts that may make you feel uneasy or cringe. I'm #sorrynotsorry. Don't read it if any if this offends you. This is what happened and I am tired of pretending that I am something I am not. With that said, the names, places, and events might be altered slightly to protect others' privacy. I am comfortable with who I am and what has happened, but others may not be and it is their right to feel so.

***

For more information about mental health and suicide prevention here are some resources that can get you started:

http://www.nami.org/     National Alliance for Mental Illnesses
http://bringchange2mind.org/       Bring Change 2 Mind
http://twloha.com/       To Write Love on Her Arms
http://www.afsp.org/   American Foundation for Suicide Prevention

IF YOU OR SOMEONE YOU LOVE ARE STRUGGLING WITH SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, PLEASE call this hotline and start on the healing road to recovery! 1-800-273-TALK (8255)