Like many high school students, I felt depressed. Unfortunately, it's a relatively common phenomenon. Being a teenager includes moodiness, right? I had some other major factors in my life that could easily be seen as contributors, so I partially wrote it off. I was told that high school was not the best environment for me and that in college, I'd thrive and be happy. Even crushing suicidality was another thing that just happens. My first semester of college, I was excited to be in a setting where I would finally fit in and succeed. That's not what happened. I had always gotten top grades, but I couldn't finish – or even start – easy assignments. It was not that I was not prepared for university-level work. It was the ever-growing melancholia that was taking over every aspect of my life.
At the time, I had started dating a doctoral student who was going into counseling psychology. Seeing me deteriorate, he told me that my experience was not just a normal phase and that I needed to get help. He referred me to the campus counseling center and that is how I entered therapy.
I have read countless memoirs concerning mental illness, looking for answers. They generally seem to end along the lines of, "And then I took Prozac/got an awesome therapist/met my significant other/moved/found the meaning of life/grew out of it – and lived happily ever after." This is not one of those stories. While taking that first step of reaching out to get help is a vital step in growing, there won't always be a magic pill, brilliant counselor or lifestyle change that will solve everything.
You will stumble along the way. There is no "intro to handling your mental illness" orientation meeting. No one will sit you down and explain how exactly you go about "getting better." I thought that a few weeks of therapy would cure me. Over six years later, that depression is still a part of my life.
While that sounds discouraging, it's actually amazing. I have a chronic condition, but I can function. I still struggle, but I know what my resources are. I continue to feel broken, but I don't feel despondent. Well, I have my days. I always will.
But reaching this point has been a hard-won battle. I went from thinking I was a sulking teenager to believing I had a depressive episode to a journey that, at times, is much stranger than fiction. I have met all sorts of characters who all had their own "interesting" takes on what was going on with me. There were times when I was being hurt more than helped by mental health professionals. During a particularly painful experience, I made a promise to do my best to make it so others would not have to endure that kind of suffering. It's hard enough to struggle with yourself; having the people who are getting paid to support you do damage of their own can be crushing.
Looking back, I could have many "if-only" wishes. If only someone had told me how to find a therapist that is a good fit. If only someone had explained psychiatric pharmacology better. If only those close to me understood the warning signs and intervened. If only someone had even told me how to properly ask for help… well, things would be different. But I don't regret it.
I did end up dropping out of college, then going back and forth for a while. That actually is normal young adult behavior. I diligently tried to improve myself through whatever means I could find. I found a few that help. Now I am working on a combined degree in psychology and communication in order to have the skill set necessary to guide others through a confusing world that, in and of itself, could drive someone "crazy."
I knew it was worth it when I got a 2 a.m. phone call from a distressed friend I hadn't heard from in a long time. Her younger sister had been admitted to a psychiatric unit and my friend was the only family member anywhere close enough to be of use. What was she supposed to do? How should she talk to her sister? Should she try to get her out of there? What could she expect? What would she need to do after discharge? I didn't know all the answers. I still don't. But I knew where to point her. I knew which local agencies might be of use, as well as a few people she should avoid. Through both personal experience (including that of those around me), intense research and formal education, I have figured out a thing or two.
My aim here is to fulfill that promise I made to myself when I was at my worst. I can't fix your problems, but I can tell you how to get started.
So whether you are concerned for a loved one or feeling like you need some help yourself, welcome. It's a difficult but worthwhile journey you are embarking on. Let me show you the ropes and give you a map. I'm here as a friend. If I don't know the answer to your question, I will do my best to find it. I may not be the one who has the skills to ease your pain, but I have walked this path. I know the ditches and the shortcuts, as well as some beautiful places of reprieve.
I am here because I understand how confusing and overwhelming mental health issues can be. Let's figure this out together.
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