*TRIGGER WARNING*

I want to start off by saying.. If i cry, don’t feel sad. I don’t want any sympathy. No one owes me any compassion. I’m good now.  My hope is to inspire others to come out and share their stories without fear and to inspire others to educate themselves and try to understand mental illness. This is NOT my way of playing victim, this is the most realist explanation of my story about suffering from mental illness and all its ugly, painful effects. This subject is very important that needs to be discussed openly and publicly in order to save lives and end stigma.

 In society, mental illness becomes a label. Some people may judge you without even knowing anything about you. Its easier to pretend it does not exist, instead of being titled the “crazy one.“  Some would rather not talk to anyone about it to avoid belittling the disease from comments like "get over it” “stop worrying too much.” No one feels comfortable talking about depression or suicide. “We” would rather hide the pain, instead of feeling judged, embarrassed or labeled.  Here’s my story: As long as I can remember, I’ve been a mad person. My whole life, mad, angry, I hate my life! I was black hearted and careless. Always in trouble and not doing anything for myself. Now, being in my adult life, I felt that all my anger and emotions that were bottled up inside have caught up to me. I started off every morning with a black cloud over my head. The feeling of not wanting to get out of bed and start my day. No motivation to get ready or do anything! I just thought I had anger issues. I never thought it was something I wanted to control. I just thought I genetically inherited it. This “mad” gene was apart of me. I was in and out of phases of depression, anxiety and wanting to hurt myself. Id flip out with random mood swings. I’d put on this mask everyday, that I’m fine, I’m ok but I’m filled with negative thoughts and going through the most scariest feelings in the world because you feel worthless, like not living.  At 15 years old, I had my first suicide attempt. I went into the bathroom with a blade I took apart from my razor, I sat down on the floor, up against the door and I slit my wrist 3 times. I watched my blood pour out until it stopped on its own. I don’t think its necessary I elaborate on all my suicide attempts, on how I did it, but I can say for the last 17 years I’ve slit my wrists, I’ve had thoughts of jumping off the freeway next to my old apartment. I had thoughts of slitting my throat on days I called in sick. I attempted to stab myself in a main artery and when I missed I got angry, cried and threw the knife. I tried drowning myself but I couldnt stay under water, I needed something to hold me under. That attempt was the most disappointing. Well, they all were because I had to pretend everything was back to normal. But when I tried to drown myself, I remember getting out of the water, screamed to the sky “take me!” Crying my eyes out, that’s when I realized I needed help.  I got help. I made an appointment with a behavioral health clinic, Bayless Health Center. I went in, anxious. My voice was shaky and I wanted to cry after everything I said. I was evaluated and diagnosed with anxiety and depression..and of course anger issues, which was no surprise. The type of anxiety I have is a panic disorder. I’m irritable, and react without comprehending any issue. I easily felt attacked. I could spazz out over spilt milk, then it would turn into rage. And rage turns into self harm.  I started taking an antidepressant called Lexapro. I was on Lexapro for a couple months. I wasn’t sure if it was working for me but I was obsessed with the medicine to work. I kept telling myself to hold off, it needs more time. I was so disappointed. I had finally took the step to get the help I need and I didn’t feel a change. I would cry and get upset randomly, thinking about this medicine and how its not working for me. I finally had a break down. I convinced myself to stop taking the medicine because it was not working. That was a big mistake! My body was already used to the drug so when I stopped, I was sick! I threw up a lot, had cold sweats, migraines, and I couldn’t eat or sleep. I had absolutely no energy. I didn’t have energy to pay attention to anyone or to what I was doing. After a few days, I went to visit my doctor. I explained everything to her, that I wasn’t sure if the medicine was working. I was still feeling violent, angry, and now sick. She couldn’t imagine how horrible I was feeling. She explained I was going through withdrawal, just like an addict. She told me either I had to wait for the drug to completely leave my body or try a new medicine. I decided to try a different medication. I was prescribed with another antidepressant called Zoloft. I was sick for another 2 weeks from side effects because my body had to accept this new medicine. I didn’t care if I was sick. I was open to anything that would help.  My doctor asked me if I wanted to talk to a therapist, or attend a class. I joined a class and went one time. I didn’t like it. I had to get involved and talk about myself. I didn’t know those people and I wasn’t comfortable sharing anything. For therapy, I went 3 times Therapy helps you deal with situations better and it teaches you to overcome “the moment,” like walk away and all the breathing exercises. Talking to a therapist didn’t help me. It felt like I re-lived everything I was saying. I would leave in a bad mood and be upset at someone or something that happened days ago. I wasn’t ready for therapy, mentally. I told my doctor, I just wanted to take medicine and talk to her. I liked talking to her, she would stick to the positive. She’d ask me how good I was doing and If I needed anything from her. She wouldn’t get into details unless I asked her a question. One time, I put my foot in my mouth and made an issue out of nothing. I had an appointment and I went into the office complaining, because someone took up 4 parking spaces. I was like “who parked like that, don’t they have any damn consideration!” My body language, my attitude and the look on my face looked obvious that I was mad. My doctor told me she sees I’m still anxious. She raised the milligrams for my daily dosage from 50mgs to 100mgs. And for another 2 weeks I was sick again, and again my body had to adjust.  Fast forward to the present, where am I now? I feel great! I’m happy finally! I have a whole different point of view in life. The things that used to bother me, don’t. I have way more patients with everything. My brain feels more awake and ready to socialize. I have become a better me! I take Zoloft everyday and the only side effect I’ve delt with is shaking. Every once in awhile I still get anxiety, but not really mentally, its physically now. My hands shake or if its really bad I shiver. But that’s ok, Ill take that over how I was before medicine. I will not stop taking Zoloft until I am ready. My doctor will slowly lower my dosage one period at a time so I wont get sick.  Its recommended to stay on meds for 6-9 months. Mental illness is related to an imbalance of neurotransmitters in the brain, serotonin and norepinephrine. Another word for norepinephrine is adrenalin. It focuses on your central nervous system. Helps your energy, responds to stress and constricts in your blood pressure. Serotonin is your happiness. Its related to your mood, appetite, sleep, memory and social behavior. Some antidepressants tend to affect one neurotrsnamitter more than the other, if so, that medicine may not be right for you. You may need to convert to a different medicine that works for you. Anti depressants not only work for being depressed but also can be treated for insomnia, chronic pain like fibromyalgia or artheritis. Cognitive behavior like obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) or an attention deficit disorder (ADD, ADHD), post traumatic stress and eating disorders. Whatever its used for it will take time, be patient and look forward to the outcome. I owe a lot to medicine and in my opinion, medicine saved my life. Everyone has different opinions or beliefs when it comes to mental illness. This is MY experience and MY opinion with what I went through. Mental illness doesn’t just go away. You will have better days than others but you still need help. People can talk to you and convince your train of thought to be positive. People can say they love you and you have so much life to look forward to. Yes, that can help but that’s only temporary. You will feel better at that moment but then later, whether its minutes, hours or days later, that bad feeling comes back. Now what? If you think you battle with your thoughts more than often, I suggest starting off with talking to someone; parents, friends, family or a journal. Write it down and hand it to someone you need the help from. Sometimes its easier to do that then talk about it. Start somewhere. I am here to listen and help. If there is anything I understand in life, I understand this disease. We all have a story and we could all be broken. It’s ok to not be ok, just don’t give up! My name is Amanda and I am an advocate for mental health and a suicide survivor

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