October Blog/2022
Welcome to another blog that will hopefully bring you or someone you care about, hope. October is a busy month of organizations such as the Canadian Mental Health Association, raising awareness of mental illness. Campaigns are formed to reduce stigma for people who suffer. More than ever, it seems like we are in a crisis with increased suicide rates and overdoses. People are suffering and do not have enough resources to turn to. Government assistance is needed, and the fight against stigma must continue. Human compassion for those who suffer, has improved a great deal, but it still exists. Social media is a common place for bullying or targeting addicts at their worst. Mental illness is not an easy subject to talk about, but opening up conversations can be helpful. Not everyone can look at traumas such as abuse, addiction, mental illness, or self-harm. But it is important to open up these scary doors.
I was alone through my traumas; too scared to breathe a word of it. No one went through what I did! I was alone, deserving of pain and just a crazy insane person! I remember clearly feeling this way and wanting to die. No one needs to feel like this. A little bit of connection and raw honesty can make a difference. Let’s not suffer alone. Let’s not let our children feel isolated. We never know what is happening internally with others, but by sharing, they just might be listening and feel less alone. Trauma responses are as individual as the person. My indifference to a circumstance could be very painful to another and vice versa. The point is, lets communicate and have an open heart. I still do not fully understand why bad things happen, but after facing the past and healing, I use them to show that someone has been there and survived. A slither of hope is what I can offer.
With Mental Health Month amongst us, I will share one very personal experience of mental agony with you. I was in the darkness of addiction, existing in my world of self hate. Everyday I questioned why I was so crazy and why I couldn’t stop it. I surrounded myself with other addicts. I always had an excuse and blamed others for my behaviors. Within a cycle of addiction and unresolved traumas, my choices were poor, my brain was damaged and my soul was broken. The cycle was endless and every so often, I went off the deep end, hurting the person who I felt deserved it the most… ME.
TRIGGER WARNING: Self-Harm
The following is a passage from my book, Box of Shame: A Memoir of Addiction, Survival, and Forgiveness. Chapter 21; Competition Crazy.
“One day Randy wanted to show me how he could slide down the handrail of the stairs. He sat on the banister at the top and began his descent, midway down, he lost his balance and flipped over the rail, crashing into a metal shelving unit. We headed straight to the emergency department with a few injuries and a possible broken wrist. We were scrapping at the hospital, about how dumb he was to attempt such a stunt, behind the curtain wall in one of the rooms.
“How can you be so stupid? Now we’re gonna be stuck here all night!” I yelled.
“Shut the fuck up! I didn’t plan on breaking my wrist!” SMACK! I walloped him right across the face. I was there to support him, his reckless moves were taking up my time, and this is how he treats me. I was furious!
He grabbed my arm and squeezed. “You psycho! Don’t fucken start here!” I glared into his eyes, my face in front of his and whispered, “Psycho? I’ll show you fucken psycho!”
I yanked my arm away from him and stormed out to the parking lot and sat in my car, with my heart racing. Frustration and anger were building up and I needed release. I smacked the steering wheel with both hands, sputtering out vulgar words, thinking about how to vent. I didn’t have a baseball bat, so I couldn’t thrash the car, but I could still do damage. I spotted the cigarette lighter on the console and pushed it in, within seconds the lighter popped out. The circular coils inside were burning hot and ready for the tip of a cigarette, but my need for escape was overwhelming and I wouldn’t use it to smoke. A verbal argument in the hospital, ended in a warped dysfunctional competition about who’s crazier. No one is crazier than me. I slammed the lighter straight down onto the bare skin of my thigh, lifted it and did it three more times, scorching my flesh. This was the release I needed and self-harm was not new to me.”
This is how sick I was. I allowed myself into harmful relationships, letting others treat me poorly and then self mutilated. The story continues in the hospital with some treatment and here we are leaving the hospital.
“Randy’s wrist ended up in a splint and we headed out – he gave me a smirk, you’re fucken nuts,” he said with a look of pride. I looked at him, shrugged my shoulders, and smiled as we walked to the car. “Actually, you’re psychotic.”
His smirk changed to a look of confusion. Panic stirred in my gut. Did I take it too far? Did I push him away? I needed him; I better calm down on the crazy. What level of psychotic behavior is appropriate? Like a chameleon, I adapted to my surroundings to please him.”
Healthy people do not stay in dysfunctional toxic relationships. I was an addict, in deep depression, had severe anxiety, was chemically imbalanced and was bipolar. Years later, I did get the help I needed. It was a combination of medication, therapy, prayer and hearing the survival stories of others. I believe the helping hand of God was the miracle in all of this.
Today, my struggles still exist, but I have the tools and support to face challenges and make better choices. The biggest lesson I carry is to accept myself, love who I am and know that I will always persevere on days when I am in doubt.
You can find Box of Shame: A Memoir of Addiction, Forgiveness, and Survival on Amazon in paperback and E-book.
I wish for you peace of mind, a spirit of endurance and a self love so strong, you can move the damn mountains yourself!
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