The Heavens were stirring with excitement. The angels and saints were fascinated with God’s newest creation. They looked down to earth to see the expectant family, happily making preparations, anticipating their new addition. God was pleased as He prepared to set the delivery in motion.
I was born into an alcoholic abusive environment. My mom was the only girl in her family with 5 brothers in Indiana and her mom, my grandmother, had Huntington's Disease and her father, my grandfather, was and abusive alcoholic.
It was a cool, brisk afternoon. The sun casually peaked between thin, overcast clouds. It was a chilly, yet rare nice day for the middle of November. I had spent thirty minutes sitting in my work van, trying to find the motivation to visit my next customer. It was an “I really don’t want to be here” kind of day. I did not want to be at work, to be a part of existence.
I grew up without a father figure. My mom was my role model, even though she was depressed. When I was younger, I was in private school in first to sixth grade. Sixth grade was a horrifying time for me. My classmates always started rumors about me and made fun of me, I also was getting harassed. I then thought about suicide.
September is “National Recovery Month” in fact it is SAMHSA’s 25th National Recovery Month. For those of you that may not know SAMHSA stands for Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration. This year’s theme is “Join the Voices for Recovery: Speak Up, Reach Out.” So I would like to Speak Up while Reaching Out, to the reality of my recovery and recovery experiences with you.
I have struggled with delusions, racing thoughts, depressive episodes, hallucinations, and severe mood fluctuations for a good part of my adult life. It has often been a constant struggle. We cannot say that our mental illnesses will be cured; however, we can say that our lives can and will get better.
After some traumatic experiences, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Keep in mind that I had fought this health issue for a long time. I am one of “those” individuals who for a long time would skip meds, flush them down the toilet, just in general had a hard time being compliant.
When my military career ended when I was kicked out of the army for being gay, my mania and depression were no longer manageable or useful. I became edgy and neurotic at full blown manic and non-functional and sullen at full blown depression. My world began to fall apart and my delusions started to take a paranoid bend.