mental health & addictions
This post is eerily fitting considering mental health awareness day was only a few days ago. I have been a little quieter and more reserved lately about what I share. Today, the universe yelled “SPEAK! LET IT OUT”. So here’s my truth about mental health.
I spent the day wrestling with an old wound. One that I know will likely never heal completely. Mental health and addiction are two things that I have known all about almost my entire life. My father has a very complex mental health diagnosis and for as long as I can remember he’s self medicated with drugs and alcohol.
After my mom passed away in 1995, I instantly felt this need to take care of and protect my brothers and my father. That was quickly warped by his substance abuse. Warped into protecting everyone else from the hurt my father caused and trying EVERYTHING to get him to change. I didn’t understand addiction at that tender age. I didn’t understand mental illness then either. I thought that taking the substances out of the equation would fix the rest. Though he is much more mentally stable when he’s clean, he’s still not rational.
He has always been my role model for what not to do and who not to be. I remember being younger and hearing him say “I don’t want you to be anything like me when you grow up”. As a parent now myself, I cannot even begin to understand this. I want my kids to grow up and be like me! That’s why I continuously strive to be a good role model for them. How could he be so selfish? How could he have so little self worth?
My family history of mental illness runs DEEEEEP. Which is why I am so adamant to change this for my kids. I don’t want them to have the same mental struggles that I do. Being raised feeling like an unloved orphan conditioned me to emotional abuse at a very young age. In my teens, I looked for love in the wrong places, I settled, I relied on my relationships to provide a false sense of security. The worst part is that I didn’t actually ever learn how to accept love because I couldn’t ever possibly love myself - my father didn’t (or so I felt).
But he did love me and I’m sure that he still does - in the capacity in which he is capable.
As children, we have two main sources for love and affection - our mother and our father. My mom was incredibly involved and hands on with us kids - we even went to work with her! My mom made up for my father's shortcomings. With her sudden passing, it was like losing both parents.
I’m not making excuses for all the terrible things that my father did - there is no excuse. I have just come to realize that nothing he did or didn’t do was personal. I had no bearing on his choices or actions. Which eliminates the voice inside my head that perpetually tells me that I’m not enough or that I’m not worthy. It doesn’t erase the past and it doesn’t heal all the hurt but it helps.
Today, my father overdosed. This was the first incident since we’ve become estranged that I didn’t get involved. I wasn’t surprised... but my heart hurt for the people who are still in his life. My brother. His girlfriend. Her two sweet, young kids.
I have seen so many people love this man endlessly but his mental illness makes it impossible for him to see the value in this. These people always get hurt and my empath soul hurts for them. Every. Time.
More than anything, I feel so sad for him.
Mental illness isn’t a choice but how you treat it and overcome it, is a choice. A personal choice, at that. Which is why I can’t make that decision for my father.
Instead, I chose to learn how to love and be loved. I choose a different path for my kids. I choose not to be bitter and angry. I also choose to be grateful to my father for bringing me into this world. Going forward, my boundaries and self respect will no longer allow me to be hurt by his choices.
I dream of a world that’s free from the stigma currently surrounding mental illness. I have never fully understood why we look at mental health the way that we as a society tend to. Why is there ever feelings of shame in seeking help for damages caused by emotional or mental trauma? We don’t shame people for going to the hospital after a car accident. Trauma is trauma. Mental. Physical. Emotional. It’s all still damage that needs to be healed. We need to stop isolating those we deem “broken”. Feeling isolated only exacerbates the issues. So I will leave you with this...
Dear ones,
Please don’t pass judgment until you have walked a mile in that person’s shoes - which you literally cannot. Instead, be empathetic and compassionate. Remember that not all illness is visible. Hug people. You never know whose soul needs a little extra love today. More importantly, if you ever feel like you’re wrestling with dark thoughts - reach out! Do not let the opinions of others stop you from healing your mind so you can live an easier life.
You are Loved.
R.
