I wish I had considered medication much earlier in my mental illness. I was always anti-meds. My views have since changed, though I’m still not always for them. I think there is a real problem with unnecessary prescriptions and over-medicating, but I’ve learned a lot about my needs and particular meds that have worked for me.
Though my college days told me I needed help, it was at the University of Notre Dame that I truly fell apart. It was the Fall of 2009, following the news that I’d landed the job. I had my first severe bout of depression. I fell into a deep hole. It’s like I was walking on this path of greatness and suddenly stepped on a trap, covered in sticks and hay. Down I went.
And that’s one of the many things depression tells you; that things and people are out to get you. That no one is on your side. That you’re doomed. That you’re not good at anything. It gets the best of you. But I know there was no trap set for me. I just felt hopeless. I felt like good things were being taken from me.
Shortly after my first few days of work I wrote an email. In that email I told my boss and the administrative assistant that I couldn’t do the job they hired me to do. I literally quit. I spent a night writing that email. I went back and forth between hitting delete and typing. Once I sent the email my plan was to wake up the next morning and run away. I started to drive across the country to a place that I knew wouldn’t take away my problems. At the time I felt it was the answer. But I was in that deep hole and I was having a hard time climbing out.
I packed up my Pontiac Bonneville with a few items and the only thing that truly mattered to me at the time--my dog Sophie. More about her next week. I left early in the morning, before my roommate got up, and off I went.
Everyone was calling me. People cared. I knew that, but it didn’t matter. I needed to leave my fears behind. My depression was in full force, making many of my decisions. I was ignoring phone calls, speeding, and crying. I would stop to either to get gas or because my tears were preventing me from actually seeing the road. I’d listen to all the voicemails telling me it was okay and that I needed to turn around and talk to someone. My boss emailed me. The administrative assistant emailed me. Despite me quitting my job and running away, I was still wanted.
I didn’t make it past Kansas. I ended up getting pulled over. I was speeding in a construction zone. The police officer could tell I was in distress and leery of my, “I’m going to visit a friend”. That speeding ticket ended up being one of those meant to be things. I decided to turn around.
Stay tuned next week as I introduce you to one special dog, my Labradoodle, Sophie Jane. She truly did save my life.
I just want all people to learn and grow together.