Recovery
I smiled and took a breath and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn’t hurting anyone by simply being.
I smiled and took a breath and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn’t hurting anyone by simply being.
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#mental illness #mental health #hope #therapy #depression #anxiety #submission #recovery #SupportMy name is Caitlin and I’m 34 years old. I was first diagnosed with depression and anxiety when I was 19, but I’ve probably been struggling with anxiety for my whole life. I am writing this today after hearing others share their stories of recovery from mental illness and feeling inspired to do the same.
The mental health industry NEEDS to improve. I heard about NAMI after 3 incidents with the mental health industry, and the struggle that it put me through. I hope that by using art and writing from a first hand account, change can happen.
It seems to be a taboo to talk about anxiety, depression, and what is a normal way to act. I assert that speaking out about it is critical to putting a human face on a broad term and ultimately saving each other.
There must be a healthier middle ground between suicide and quieting revolutionary brilliance. I am driven to spread awareness and to bring about that middle ground.
Those who experience a change in their mindset need to be encouraged to explore these thoughts in a peaceful place surrounded by nature. Patients can NOT be locked in a white room and threatened to be removed from their family for a longer time IF they speak their minds about a new world they envision for themselves and the nation.
It is not easy to speak out about this issue, so possibly at least one person may see that those who have been caught up in this system have something extremely valuable to say and express, and they are NOT just crazy.
This drawing is a relic from that time of my life, shortly before being locked up. DO NOT FOLLOW the path designed by an elite group that discourages critical thinking, and speaking out about a world that benefits a few, and hinders the true expression of the many.
I hope to never go there [MENTAL HOSPITALS] again because of the lack of communication and the serious under-funding of the mental health industry. The hospitals give everyone who is misunderstood a huge risk of slipping in beneath the cracks, and being over-medicated, especially those who wish to communicate humanity’s wonders.
-Andrew Kaminski, 2016
Hello, I have always thought that sharing my story with the mental health community is important to bring hope to others that are just like me.
I’m a 37 year old divorced mother of two boys. I have been in therapy of some kind or another since I was 7 years old. Mental illness runs in my family as well as substance abuse addiction. I believe I was born with my many disorders that progressed and worsened as I got older, abused illegal drugs, prescribed medication and had my children. In my early childhood I showed all the many signs of OCD. I also grew up in an extremely chaotic family where my mother suffered terribly with her own mental illness that was never acknowledged or treated and an emotionally absent father. My two older siblings coped with this by using and abusing drugs and my older sister was put into rehab when I was seven. My older brother simply moved away and is still an addict today covering up his own mental health issues. My younger sister was extremely emotionally disturbed and would act out violently towards my parents but especially towards me. She would later become a drug addict for many years and thankfully entered recovery 4 ½ years ago.
I’m a 19 year old college student who suffers from anxiety and depression. Reading that sentence probably didn’t stand out to anyone, but I’m here to speak about my unique journey with mental health. The first 14 or so years of my life were good. In fact, my childhood was great. I had your average family with a mom, dad, and a younger brother who would support me through everything and give me the resources to have a high quality of life. None of that changed as I transitioned into high school… but still, my brain suffered.
From a young age, I had very high expectations for myself. I constantly worried about not being good enough, even though I was a fantastic student. The pressure became almost unbearable as I began to take AP courses. Not only that, but I did many extracurricular activities that I barely gave myself time to breathe. I would spiral into anxiety attacks and sometimes panic attacks and not sleep for whole nights just for one assignment. I thought this was the life of a normal high school student until my parents showed concern for my mental and physical health.
My father was a drug addict, paranoid schizophrenic, dealer and hoarder.
Growing up was traumatic to say the least, I ended up moving out at age 15.
Currently I am 28, a father to be, high school teacher and martial arts instructor.
My whole life I have been dealing with depression, anxiety and other mental health concerns.
I found that the best therapy came from writing my story, first in the form of poetry then in a book. Even if you only write for your self, please do it. It will help!
My name is Jennifer and I am a recovered mental illness survivor—
I have endured severe mental illness for over half my life. During that time, I suffered from clinical depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, schizoaffective disorder, and borderline personality disorder.
Due to the depression, my behaviors ranged from excessive crying to excessive sleeping to suicide attempts. I felt feelings of worthlessness, hopelessness, and helplessness. All I thought I wanted to do was die. But in fact, what I really wanted was help with overcoming my severe sadness.
During my manic states, I endured impulsive, spontaneous, and irresponsible behaviors. I felt on top of world. I felt excessive amounts of energy. I had racing thoughts. I had delusions of grandeur. I’ll be honest. It felt great to be so high, but it is also very dangerous. Risky behaviors can lead to much endangerment of self and others.
Long story short, I became familiar with mental illness around the age of 18. I was always aware of it, but never too much in depth until I experienced it myself. My family knew I had major anxiety before I did. I had to go through something traumatic for it to be seen. When I was 19, I was in a relationship with a man 8 years older than me, he turned out to be very abusive. That lead from one thing to another and I was hospitalized twice for self harm and attempt of suicide. After being hospitalized the first time, my doctors put me in Intensive Outpatient Therapy (IOP) for 6 weeks. They diagnosed me with anxiety, severe depression, and bipolar 1 disorder. For about a year I was trying all different kinds of medication and new therapists all while being with the same abusive man. I then was in the hospital again for trying to overdose, that was my final straw for both me and my family/friends. I lost so many important people in my life during this growing period, but that showed me who was in my circle vs. who was not. Fast forward almost 2 years later and I’ve grown so much. I am and have been on Effexor for almost a year, this medicine has saved my life. Not that medicine is for everyone, it is for me plus many other healthy coping skills. I am 21 years old attending university as a Psychology Major, I finally made it to the other side. Dealing with mental illness has taught me so much about self love, self awareness, toxicity, insecurities, and a lot more. If I could share my story with the world, I would, just so everyone knows they are not alone.
My journey with mental health has not been an easy one. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression in 2011. I was constantly having panic attacks at bight time which prevented me from sleeping. I finally decided that it was time to get the help I very much so needed. I did, and every since then I can better manage my mental health with the tools that my therapist has given me. There is light and hope even after the darkest of storms. Keep fighting ❤️
I was recently at a dinner with two friends, when we began discussing mental illness and mental health treatment.
All three of us have openly had periods of struggle with both depression and anxiety, but we all had very different takes on treatment, particularly in regards to antidepressants.
“I wouldn’t go on them,” said the first friend.
“I would go on them, but just until I feel better,” said the second.
My take was the opposite: I have been taking antidepressants on and off my entire life, and since deciding to take them consistently nearly three years ago, my life has turned around. I plan to be on them forever.
Conversations like this are not uncommon. When it comes to mental health issues, opinions are often polarized and strongly held.
I understand that antidepressants are not for everyone; many people are fortunate in not suffering from mental illness, and even many of those who do would prefer to have medication be their last resort.
For me, medication is a part of a more comprehensive treatment plan to avoid falling back into the throes of the major depression that I know always lingers beneath the surface of my delicately balanced equilibrium.
I remember what it feels like to be unwell.
June 3, 2014
Thank you for your interest in my recovery story. I have been in mental health treatment for the past thirty-three years. It began at age eight when I was sexually molested by a close relative. I did not tell anyone out of shame and guilt for ten years. I became anorexic immediately following the assault, which turned into bulimia, severe depression and anxiety through my teenage years. My parents would not allow hospitalization or medication because of their ignorance and the stigma involved. Suicide was constantly on my mind. My parents did allow for weekly psychotherapy treatments.
At seventeen, I suffered a major mental breakdown and was limited in my high school attendance. I disclosed facts about the abuse during therapy, but no charges were filed, once again due to the perceived stigma. At eighteen, I took myself to the psychiatrist and received my first prescription for an anti-depressant. Lack of effectiveness and side effects caused me to spend the next fifteen years trying different medicine combinations.