Mental Health

You Are Not Weak if You Ask For Help

Let’s Celebrate May which is Mental Health Awareness Month

When I hit 30 years old, my moods changed. I always chalked it up to having toddlers and the craziness of raising two kids.

I was stressed, yet I was drinking every night and self-medicating. When you are stuck in this loop of depression, irritability, and overuse of alcohol, your mental health will decline.

I knew what it looked like to be bipolar, as I watched my birth mother struggle with this in my early years of life.

You can read more in-depth about it here if you are interested.

For some reason, it didn’t occur to me that I was on my way to being unstable. I was laid back, easy-going, and stable for most of my life so these mood swings were uncharted territory.

During my 30s, I was sober on and off… sometimes I had a year under my belt but didn’t usually make it past that. Somehow, I thought I was cured each time and could drink responsibly.

I hated the idea of seeking help because I was always a strong-willed woman who helped others.

I reluctantly agreed to my family’s suggestion and saw many therapists and psychiatrists complaining of my anxiety and depression. Since anti-depressants made me feel agitated and worse, one doctor prescribe me Xanax, which is not a good thing for an addict.

I spiraled out of control in my late 30s due to mixing Xanax and alcohol which landed me in a detox center at the local hospital with one week of treatment. I agreed to this because I didn’t want to do a 30-day, even though I needed it.

I kept my sobriety private, hated AA meetings, and detested going to therapy. I didn’t want to accept the help. I didn’t need it, so I thought.

I began experiencing manic episodes where I would spend a ton of money all at once. Once I got home with all my purchases, the shame would roll in like a dark cloud.

It would hover and the depression would kick me until I fell down. I suffered silently, not wanting to go back to a psychiatrist. For some reason, the idea of being bipolar didn’t cross my mind because I didn’t act like my mother.

At 40 years old, still undiagnosed, I started a new job and the stress along with keeping up my house was too much to bear. I noticed my blood boiling when I came home to a dirty house and it would ruin my entire evening.

I would yell and talk to myself, act out of the norm, and give my family the silent treatment. Things like this kept happening and life at home was chaotic.

My mind would race with horrible thoughts and I just wanted quiet. I wanted peace inside my head and it got to be too much.

After a horrible fight that I had with my husband, I decided that it was enough to get myself back into therapy and really do the work this time. No more half-assing it and pretending that I didn’t need help.

I found a doctor that did a saliva test to see what medications would work for my issues and to get a clear diagnosis. Because I didn’t respond to anti-depressants, I researched and found that this would help me.

Hope started to fill my thoughts instead of the negative banter, and I could see the light when he explained that I needed a mood stabilizer and he diagnosed me as Bipolar Type 2.

The doctor explained the symptoms of Bipolar Disorder Type 1 and 2. He stated how they were different and a light bulb went off when he described all of my symptoms.

Basically right after I started taking Lamictal, my mood changed. I didn’t fly off the handle over anything. It was a miracle. This little tiny pill changed my life, actually, I should say it saved my life.

I was no longer resistant to the fact that I needed to take medication. I embraced it and was shocked by my mental state. I wasn’t embarrassed and the stigma of Bipolar became completely ridiculous.

There was no more shame in my game. I always believed that you had to behave like my mother if you had a mental illness. I didn’t realize that it comes in all shapes and sizes.

I feel like a whole person, who gets emotional over things that deserve emotion. Little things don’t bother me and I continue to remind myself “this will pass” if I am in an uncomfortable situation with noise filling my head.

For anyone struggling with their mental health, please know there is help and you can gain clarity. There is a solution. You don’t need to be stuck in self-loathing.

I will celebrate Mental Health Awareness Month. We are not damaged or weak because we ask for help, but quite the opposite.

We are strong warriors that put their mental health first and seek guidance.

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Thanks for reading!

Much love, Michele