After a year of trying to deal with my behavior and (I feel) a very minor attempt to understand my illness, my parents kicked me out of their house. They also confiscated my car, which I had been in the process of paying them for, so finding a job, my own apartment, even going to therapy was next to impossible. I crashed at a friend’s house for two months, trying to figure out my next step all while having no idea where to start.
At this time, I had fallen into a crowd that smoked marijuana. While not pressured to try it, eventually I decided to see what the appeal was and there was definitely an appeal. I now understand why people use marijuana. The high makes you feel so good. You forget about everything that is wrong in your life and you are just blissed out. It stopped my brain from going a mile a minute, and for me, there was freedom in that. But I also realized that smoking wasn’t going to fix the problems that I had, it was only making me forget them. And while at times, I do still miss that high, I know that smoking marijuana isn’t good for me and it’s not going to help me solve my problems. Only therapy could do that.
Luckily, an opportunity presented itself for me to move out of my toxic, temporary living space.. Through the church where I worked, I met and befriended an older woman, who with her husband, were not very good empty-nesters. After she broke her shoulder, she invited me to live at their house, a farm, in exchange for help with cooking and cleaning. We became very good friends and I lived with them for quite a few months.
While living there, I got back into therapy and managed, for the most part, to mend my relationship with my parents. The lady also turned me onto alternative medication. After previous disappointments with 2 psychiatrists and a variety of medication, I decided to go the alternative route. I began taking St. John’s Wort and Kava Kava. While it seemed like these medications worked for me, it was also summertime and my depression had always worsened in the winter.
A few months after moving to the farm, I met a guy who respected me and my beliefs. We began spending a lot of time together and eventually began dating. I fell in love with him and moved in with him and his family just months later. Unfortunately, the winter months took their toll and my depression returned with a vengeance, coupled this time with the feelings of inadequacy, and worthlessness. My boyfriend was so wrapped up in his work and extracurricular life, that I felt like I wasn’t a priority to him.
After a few months of living with him, I made the courageous decision to move out on my own. This would be my first apartment and while I enjoyed having a place to myself, it quickly became a problem. My boyfriend and I broke up at the beginning of the summer because we made better friends than a couple anyway. But I quickly found myself very much alone. My friendships were few and far between and while I initially attributed this to the amount of work I was doing, I soon realized how alone I really was.
By the end of the year, I realized I needed more help than I was getting so I made an appointment to be evaluated at a local psychiatric center. I was informed that I was on the cusp of needing help but with my work schedule, continued regular therapy should have been enough.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t and less than 3 months later, I was officially admitted into the psychiatric center for outpatient treatment.