Bipolarwanderings

October 10^th was World Mental Health Day, a day that was started in 1992, with the initiative of Deputy Secretary General Richard Hunter. And today I am hoping that in sharing my journey through mental illness, I can be of service to someone struggling with bipolar, schizoaffective, anxiety, or depression. 

November 16^th is the annual, local NAMI (National Alliance of Mental Illness) walk, which I will be walking this year. If you feel called to donate to NAMI, here are our (my parents & I) page. Anything from $2-$50 will make a huge difference in the lives of people who suffer, like me. J https://www.namiwalks.org/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.team&teamID=70786

Your voice matters. You matter. And you are never alone.

~

My journey into crisis began in October‘14 when my then-recent ex-boyfriend called me, leaving a voicemail telling me that our dog Artemis had passed away. This call sent me into a tailwind of emotion including guilt, shame, and so much anxiety. 

Why hadn’t I been there? 

I questioned incessantly on the plane ride back to Minnesota, where we both lived at the time. I had always been there for Artemis, when the guys had traveled. 

Why hadn’t I been there this time? Why did I have to be traveling to see my sister in New Mexico when this had happened!? 

The guilt plagued me like a monster…and did up until about a month ago when I finally let it go and forgave myself for something I couldn’t control.  

~ 

Meanwhile, I had made the decision to live in England for a year while obtaining a master’s degree in international business. Really, it was a year filled with avoiding my emotions, whether it be micro-trauma from the time I was young, Artemis-filled trauma, my own inflicted trauma, or boy trauma…but I knew (intuitively) I was avoiding myself. And as Carl Jung so eloquently puts – what you resist, persists. 

(I had also endured a debilitating, career-ending injury to my foot back in May’14 that had severed any chance of playing professional soccer in Europe, which was my dream). 

Safe to say, by the time I got to England in September’15, I was struggling. 

By January’16, I had stopped partying with the girls’ soccer (football) team there. I had stopped traveling, for the most part. I was meditating regularly, introspecting incessantly, and had given up my dreams of becoming a professional soccer player there. 

I was searching for my purpose, but it (God) was telling me to be still and know that he/she/they/it was there. My days were spent perched on my window ledge, on my bed, overlooking the courtyard. I felt called to do nothing. NOTHING? 

You see, I had come from a life where busyness was everything. If I had free time in my undergraduate years, I thought I was going insane…busyness made me feel productive, fulfilled, and sane. Ironically, those times in England from January’16-May’16 were the sanest I have ever felt. 

Throughout these months I felt so alive, but I was also skating on thin ice. Because I was living a master’s student’s life, not exercising, and not “getting into my body” regularly, I lived more and more in my head, and less and less in my body. 

It’s called spiritual bypassing: someone who uses spiritual mantras or practices to avoid facing trauma. In this case, I was using spiritual bypassing to prevent the un-comfortability of my negative emotions to come up. I was so scared to cry.

~ 

However, it was not until May’16 when I made the decision to ingest Magic Mushrooms in Amsterdam, that I became full-blown psychotic two weeks later. It was the most terrifying three weeks of my life…I had gone from enjoying Amsterdam with friends to hearing ‘evil’ voices, experiencing full-blown psychosis, and becoming completely delusional.  

I still wonder to this day if I would have suffered mental illness after ingesting psilocybin if I had faced my emotions back when they had happened throughout my life, instead of stuffing them. Probably not. But I wouldn’t change my journey for the world…it is my journey, and although I have suffered immensely, I came out a warrior in a way I never could have imagined I would. 

No matter how many more psychotic breaks I suffer in this life, I will never give up hope that I will one day lead a beautiful life. 

~

After spending this past summer in and out of wards, in and out of psychoses, and in and out of grandiose, delusional thinking, it’s been eight weeks since I left the hospital. And in coming down from this high-energy state, I have suffered from suicidal ideation, guilt, depression, existentialism, and anxiety. 

With the support of my family, God, and PHP (partial hospitalization program) I’m in right now, I can say that I am doing incredibly well. 

~

Thank you for taking the time to read this, and if this touched your heart, feel free to donate to the NAMI page below. J

https://www.namiwalks.org/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.team&teamID=70786