For The Battle Belongs to You, Lord

The devil whispered in my ear, “You cannot withstand the storm.” I whispered back, “I am the storm.” - Unknown.

TRIGGER WARNING: This blog entry does speak of Suicide (not pertaining to myself). If this is a trigger for you, please read at your own discretion.

It has been heavy on my heart to begin blogging once more and to be honest; I wish I hadn’t let other things in life distract and detach me from something that I felt led to do initially. Ultimately, God will always lead us back to where He wants us and where we belong in each passing moment. My last blog post on March 13th spoke about how many times God has left the 99 to find me and here I sit on December 2nd to say that His love for me has never wavered and He knew just where to find me once more. If the Lord has a plan for you, it doesn’t matter how far you run or where you run to. Trust and believe that He will capture you and place you over His shoulder and sustain you in your weakness.

On October 24th at 11:26 and 11:29 pm, I received two calls that I wish had never made their way to my phone. The 11:26 call from Stevie’s uncle went unanswered as I caught the tail end of it and said to my boyfriend, “That’s really weird. He never calls me. I hope nothing bad happened.” Three minutes later, my phone lit up, only to be receiving a call from my sister’s husband. My heart sank because I “just knew”. The words, “Lish, did you hear? They found Stevie. He hung himself…”, will forever ring in my mind until my dying day. I couldn’t even cry while in that moment. I just remember repeatedly saying, “What The F***. What am I gonna do?” Yes, I said it, and I said it multiple times. I’m not ashamed to admit it. We all have our weaknesses. The next six days consisted of every emotion possible with a mixture of adrenaline as my nephew lay lifeless on a ventilator while being surrounded by family, friends, and an infinite amount of prayer inside and outside the walls of that hospital room. I know wholeheartedly that Heaven has flooded with prayers from the mouths of many since the night of October 24th. I, without a doubt, have been in prayers of the mouths of many because I know for certain that I would not be making my way through the loss of my nephew without the strength of The One who loves me.

I had the honor of writing Stevie’s obituary and eulogy and even though it was one of the most stressful and emotional things I’ve ever done, I wouldn’t have traded it for the world. There was no way in this lifetime that I would allow my precious nephew’s soul to leave his earthly body without making it known what an amazing person he was and will forever be in not only my life, but in the lives of all who knew him. I put aside writing the eulogy for as long as I possibly could, because I simply just didn’t know how. How do you place a soul like Stevie’s on a few pieces of paper to be read to his loved ones in a 15-to-20-minute timeframe? You can’t. It’s virtually impossible. Honestly, there is not enough paper or time in the world to withstand the love of and for my nephew.

When sitting down to write, I always like to pray beforehand. My prayer is always that God will give me the words that He wants me to use and that He knows will touch the hearts of others. I surely am not capable of determining that myself. I barely know what I need to hear myself most times and that is quite evident, considering I see a therapist weekly. I once asked my therapist how he knows exactly what to say so he’s able to help his patients, simply because he has brought me through many times where I only saw the word “impossible” ahead of me. He told me that each morning, he places all his charts for that day on his desk and prays over them, asking God for guidance and the words that his patients need to hear. In saying that, I will add that my therapist has not once failed me. I have never forgotten him telling me that, so now I always try to do the same when writing anything that requires thought and where guidance is much needed.

On Friday, the day before Stevie’s funeral, I knew I must finally face the giant and begin writing. I knew how special Stevie was, and I wanted more than anything to convey that. As much as I wanted to place Stevie in the spotlight, I had an overwhelming tugging on my heart to speak about mental illness, considering his mental health issues led to his suicide. I opened my Apple Music app and created a station with worship music to help me focus. Alone in my room with my notebook opened to a blank page and my pen by my side, I prayed for God to give me the words and strength to write exactly what He wanted me to write and to use those words to touch the hearts and lives of others. I didn’t want to overstep boundaries or say anything unwanted, so I texted my sister (Stevie's mom) and Stevie’s dad in a group message and said, “Is there anything that you guys do or do not want in this eulogy?” His dad responded with, “You speak from your heart. I don’t care what you put.” My sister followed with, “Exactly” alongside two raising hand emoji’s, which I knew meant “praise” in her heart. With their permission, I did just that.

A short time prior, I had messaged my therapist and my friend Lydia, telling them I was getting ready to begin Stevie’s eulogy and asked them to please pray that God gives me the words that He wanted to be spoken the next day, followed by, “You already know I prayed”, along with sideways crying/laughing emoji’s. If any two people had known that my nerves were a wreck and what a mess I was, it would be those two. The Apple Music station that I had created had been randomly playing songs for some time up to that point. With my pen in hand, I picked up my notebook and placed it on my lap atop one of my favorite pink pillows. At that moment, the song “See a Victory” by Elevation Worship (included at the bottom of this blog entry) started playing. I know for certain I looked down at my phone in utter shock and just stared at it for a hot minute, even taking a screenshot to send to my therapist and friend. If I’ve ever wanted a sign from God, that was it, and I had never been so certain. Anyone who knows what I mean in a moment like that...knows what I mean. Some would consider it a coincidence. I consider it a message at 1:12 pm on November 4th from the only One who knew exactly what I needed to hear in the present moment. No one will ever convince me otherwise.

Stevie wasn’t just my nephew, but also a best friend. A best friend who knew my silence, and I knew his. He was a soul that I loved and cherished for 22 years and will forever cherish into eternity. He was my confidant and provided me with a sense of comfort and love that wasn’t easy to come by. My nephew was a diary in human form and I’m sure many can attest to that. A diary with endless pages that I never planned to close, and I won’t. Ever. At the center of both our universes was one thing. A giant. A giant that is only of Satan himself and labeled as “Mental Illness”. All who know me personally know that I hold those who struggle with mental illness or mental health issues especially close to my heart. If I could hold them tighter, I would. If you were or are a stranger to me and have read my three blog posts before this one, it’s safe to say that you have gotten some insight into my own mental health struggles. Honestly, the word “struggle” is beyond an understatement. I define mental illness as a never-ending battle, and a battle it surely is. Stevie and I fought together and even though he isn’t here to physically fight alongside me anymore, I know for certain that he will continue fighting within me so that I can accomplish everything that God has placed on my heart and presented to me since the night of October 24th. As my nephew lay lifeless in a hospital bed relying on a ventilator to sustain his life, I made my sweet boy the promise that will last a lifetime. That brat had me wrapped around his finger since April 22, 2000, and that is a love that will never cease. His battle with mental illness here on this earth may be over, but his desire to love and help others will forever live on through me if that is in God’s plan for my life.

If you haven’t paused your reading of this blog post to listen to the song I mentioned earlier, please do. Or you can always save the best for last. Stevie’s death may be one of the biggest tragedies we may ever experience in this lifetime. However, there’s zero doubt in my being when I say that God has a master plan amidst our sadness. Our minds are incapable of comprehending what will flourish from our heartache. I, personally, have never been very accepting of believing that God has an unimaginable plan for my pain. Through the struggles with my mental health issues, it has been virtually impossible to see anything positive come from what I’ve considered torture for 34 years of my life. I can’t count how many times I’ve sat in therapy and told my therapist that I just don’t see how God could have any type of purpose for my pain or why He burdened me with a mental illness that made me feel the exact way that Stevie felt. Hopeless, empty, alone, broken, defeated, exhausted, worthless, unloved by God and everyone around me, and to be honest, the list may very well be endless.

For as long as I can remember and until this past year, I had no issue with asking, “If God loves me as much as everyone says and we are all His children, why does He allow me to feel this torture in my mind every single day of my life?” It was just one of those things that my mind could not comprehend and I didn’t comprehend it because I can’t even stand the thought of my dog being in agony, much less a child that was my own. So, if I am God’s child, how can He stand to see me so sad and broken, with a feeling of absolutely no hope? When those around me would tell me how much God loved me, it was virtually impossible to believe and I’m not afraid or ashamed to admit that. There have been many times in my life when I drifted away from Him and was angry, but one thing was for certain: I would always run back to Him. I would always run back because I knew His promises, and I was holding Him to His word. Most of us are afraid to hold a being with such authority accountable, but truth is, He wants us to. He wants us to trust in Him and trust that He will fulfill every promise that He has made to us. There is one piece of scripture that I have stood on for many years now and will forever stand on. The piece of scripture is Luke 1:45, which says, “Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill His promises to her.” I have never forgotten that, and I’ve caught myself countless times in desperation, saying, “God, You promised.” God wants us to trust Him, even if we only have faith as big as a mustard seed, and that is something I’ll save for a future entry.

I hope by now you have given in and listened to the words of “See a Victory” from where I got the title of this entry. I spoke earlier about how this song began playing as I laid my notebook on my lap with a pen in hand to write the eulogy for Stevie’s funeral. If God ever wanted to send a message to me regarding this entire situation, the lyrics to this song are it. The first nine words of this song and every word thereafter stirred up a feeling in my soul that I have never felt in my entire life about any situation. It was and is still a feeling that cannot be described with any words in my vocabulary. The day I walked into that hospital room to see my nephew so lifeless, I went to war with Satan. Only this time–I wasn’t and am not backing down. My anger towards Satan at that moment was and still is unspeakable. In Stevie’s eulogy, I talk about how I refuse to sit in silence and continue to watch people that I love take their own lives at the cost of Satan’s malicious destruction of our minds. It is so easy for us to get angry at God in any negative situation, especially a tragedy such as this. It has taken me many years to understand and grasp the fact that these situations are not of God. The Bible says, “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” 2 Timothy 1:7. This piece of scripture is the opposite of how Stevie felt, how I’ve felt and continue to feel at certain times, and possibly how even you feel. John 10:10 says, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy…” and that is without a doubt what he did to Stevie’s mind and life. The list of feelings that I mentioned earlier are lies of Satan, yet many of us do not know of that because his work is that of confusion and manipulation. Satan targets the minds of those who are mentally weak, simply because the mind is something that is easily manipulated. That is exactly what Satan desires. He is cunning and very much in pursuit of the weak-minded and his only intention is to destroy us regardless of what lengths he must go to. He may have consumed the mind of my nephew, but I know for certain that the minds of others will become rescued and restored despite our current circumstances.

The song that I now use as a daily reminder of God’s promise carries on saying, “God will take what the enemy meant for evil, and He’ll turn it for good.” When I initially heard those words, my mind reverted to one of my last moments in Stevie’s hospital room. I was rubbing his hair and holding him in a way that I never wanted to let go of. At that moment, the promise that I spoke of earlier rolled off my lips and into his ear, loud enough for only him, God, and Satan to hear. I recently learned that Satan cannot hear our thoughts, so we must speak our thoughts aloud, so I’m glad I used my voice that night. My promise to Stevie that night was that I would forever advocate for people like us and to share his story until my last breath. The remaining lyrics read, “I’m gonna see a victory, for the battle belongs to You, Lord.” Coming from someone who is very skeptical, I have not one time since hearing these words, doubted them. This season is no doubt one of extreme sadness. However, the certainty in my heart around the words in this one song is an oddly weird certainty that I have never felt in this lifetime. Without question, I am settled in the fact of knowing that God is going to do the unthinkable and save the lives of those who are currently living as a “Stevie”, a “Me”, and possibly a “You”.

“In our trouble, God has comforted us–and this too, to help you: to show you from our personal experience how God will tenderly comfort you when you undergo these same sufferings. He will give you the strength to endure.”–2 Corinthians 1:6-7

Oh, The Overwhelming, Never-Ending, Reckless Love of God

“What cannot be said will be wept.” - Sappho

I’ve been praying for God to lead me when it comes to what I should write my blog entries about because He is the only One who truly knows what others need. Today I sat down for about an hour and began to write my 3rd blog entry. In typical ADHD fashion, I told myself that I had to get up and make the buffalo chicken dip that I promised my friend a few days ago. Yes, I’m a procrastinator when it comes to most things, and I'll gladly admit that. I’d like to think that I work better under pressure. At least I’ll tell myself that anyway. *lol* Anyhow, the blog that I began to write is totally not this blog. I guess God had other plans.

As I was getting all of my ingredients prepared for my dip, I figured that I’d just play some worship music, as my sister told me to do this as a reminder to Satan that he has no authority over my mind. Putting on worship music is legit the last thing that I wanted to do today. It’s just depressing and makes me sad and quite frankly, I'm pretty much over that life at this point. Plus, when I'm sad, it makes me cry...and I'm over that also. Then again, maybe it just makes me sad, and not depressed. But why? I’m not going to lie, I wanted to turn it off before the first song was even over. I can already see my therapist shaking his head as he reads this. He is so used to hearing me say that I don't want to do this, and I don't want to do that...but I end up doing whatever it is that I don't want to do anyway. Apparently, at the time you don't want to do something the most, is exactly when you need to do it. For instance, being at therapy every Wednesday at 4:00pm sharp and as I leave, hearing the infamous words, "I'll see you next week and you better be here!" Or else! Just kidding, he doesn't say that last part! *lol*

As many now know, I have struggled with my mental health for as long as I can remember but there have been many seasons (and when I say seasons, I mean years at a time) where I felt as if I’d never crawl out of this place that I go to. As I mentioned in my previous blog entry, Covid has been especially hard on me due to living alone and not being able to see much of anyone. Thank God for text messaging and FaceTime. When you struggle with mental health issues, you need most to be around others who lift your spirits and remind you that you’re loved. Covid led me to a place where I’ve often wanted to isolate myself and never leave my house unless it was for something absolutely necessary. By necessary, I mean therapy. *lol* I can probably count on one hand, maybe one and a half, how many times I’ve gone to church since the beginning of Covid. Lighthouse of Hope is the one place that I miss the most.

Over time I could feel myself drifting further and further away from God and falling deeper into a deep depression. Following that, my anxiety has come back full force and is the worst that it has been in years. Since October 2021, I have tried around five medications for anxiety and intrusive thoughts, and unfortunately, nothing has helped. If anything, it has made me feel worse. I finally asked my doctor if I could try a medication that I remembered previously helped me. She agreed. At this point, what could it possibly hurt?! I started the medication last week and I am praying that it helps. Yesterday is the first time in months that I have gone out and didn’t have to take an “emergency” anxiety medication to not feel completely overwhelmed with anxiety and panic. Anytime that I've gone anywhere, I have only been playing worship music, even if it is faintly. Some days I just can’t stand the least little noise at all. I’ve only turned my television on about five times since October. This is simply because I don't want to hear the noise and I don't want to take a chance on hearing or seeing anything that triggers my anxiety or depression...so it’s just easier to not watch anything on tv at all. Though I hate to admit it, this is how I've been feeling about worship music also.

As I was putting the buffalo chicken dip in the oven, I thought, "Why do these songs make me sad when they are supposed to do the opposite?" I sat down on the couch and texted one of my friends who is a Christian also. I told her how I was feeling and asked her if she ever feels this way. She agreed that she feels the same way at times which did make me feel not so alone. We started talking about why we think that we felt this way and of course inquiring minds (Me, I’m inquiring minds... *lol*) had to get online and attempt to find out if others also feel this way and if so, why? Low and behold, others feel the same.

Reading multiple articles, one of the first reasons mentioned for not wanting to worship, is Guilt. The type of guilt, I guess, depends on the person. That's when my guilt hit me. I have always felt much guilt and still feel guilty when straying away from God, as well as, not trusting Him as much as I should. As Proverbs 3:5-6 says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding…” I have always been one who tries to handle all of my problems on my own and I despise asking anyone for help. It wasn’t until some much-needed time in therapy that I learned that it’s perfectly okay to ask for help and that we will all need help at many points in our lives. Unfortunately, that's inevitable. I am someone who would rather struggle alone than become a burden on someone else. I still have a hard time with that, even when it comes to asking God for help. I often feel that I am a burden to Him, and I fear that He gets disappointed when I don’t trust Him as I should.

Next, is Godly Sorrow. When I think of things I’ve done wrong in the past, I become regretful and displeased with myself. However, God doesn’t see me this way, and oftentimes, I forget that. Knowing the things that Jesus endured to wipe away our sins breaks my heart immensely. Oftentimes, I feel so unworthy of His love. I can’t even understand in my mind how He could love and forgive me when I’ve failed Him over, and over, and over again. Many worship songs depict His love for us and to think of a love that we cannot even fathom is so overwhelming. It is almost like a form of sadness. Like most human beings, I try to avoid sadness at all costs. I’ve experienced enough of it in my lifetime, and I wouldn’t complain if I were to never experience it again. Then again, I need to remember, at the time you don't want to do something the most, is exactly when you need to do it.

Though I’m sure most of you have your own reasons for feeling sad during worship, one of the last reasons I will talk to you about is, Deep Anguish. More than not, I am often overwhelmed by difficulties in my life, especially my mental health challenges. I feel as if mental illness is a battle that is never-ending, and it becomes very daunting. Every day I question why God gives me this burden to carry. I know that He sees the heartache and pain that it causes not only me but also those who care about me. When I think that no one else understands what I’m going through, I have to remind myself that God does. Imagine how much you love and care about your own children and/or pets and the way that you feel when you see them hurting. The love that you feel is probably infinitely more than you can even put into words. I can’t even describe to you the adoration and love that I have for my doggy, Max. Though I get upset with him at times, I love him more and more with each passing moment. To comprehend God’s love for you and me is totally impossible and I’ve learned that we often try to compare God’s love for us to our earthly father’s love. Regardless of your situation with your father, there is no comparison to God's love. Most praise and worship songs let us know that we are not alone, that He loves us, and that we can call out to Him for any of our needs. More than not, I tend to forget this. Attempting to wrap my head around the fact that a love such as this even exists, is unimaginable. The thankfulness in my heart becomes overwhelming and that is where my sadness overflows.

While writing this entire entry, one song continued to play over and over in my mind. The song is “Reckless Love” by Cory Asbury. I will attach the live version below, as he tells a story midway through the song which I feel everyone needs to hear. These lyrics apply to every person who exists, has existed, and will exist. Christians, as well as those who have yet to accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior. The fact that He chases me down, no matter how far away from Him that I may run, shows me only a portion of His love for me. There is absolutely no denying that He has chased me down EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. He left the 99 to find me and He will leave the 99 to find you!

How many people in your life do you know that would do just that? Wouldn’t it be great if everyone who loved us chased us down to save us from our own self-destruction? As I think back over my life, I cannot think of or name one single time during my 34 years on this earth that God didn’t chase me down. Approximately 99% of those times, I most definitely kept running. *lol* But, in all seriousness, I think we could all do a much better job with accepting His love for us. There's no shadow He won't light up, mountain He won't climb up, coming after you and me. There's no wall He won't kick down, lie He won't tear down, coming after you and me. I will forever be thankful for His overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love.

“Jesus leaving the 99 to find the 1 seems irrational and senseless until that 1 is you.” - Matthew 18:12-14

Let's End the Stigma of Brain Health Medications

"Part of the underlying stigma is the silence; the silence that allows the muting of conversations surrounding practices grounded in mental health treatment." - Joel L. Daniels

TRIGGER WARNING: This blog entry does speak of Suicide (not pertaining to myself). If this is a trigger for you, please read at your own discretion.

Since learning of my different diagnoses that I mentioned in my first blog post, medication management has still been very difficult. Before being diagnosed with Bipolar II Disorder in 2019, I had always been diagnosed with and treated for only Depression and Anxiety. I had tried a multitude of medications to no avail which only targeted Depression and Anxiety. These medications were simply like a band-aid and helped the symptoms some but didn’t do much of anything when it came to constantly feeling as if I were on an emotional roller coaster.

It wasn’t until I met my current psychiatric physician that I learned what I was truly experiencing was Bipolar II Disorder or Bipolar Depression. Once learning this, finding a medication that helped has truly been trial and error just as with treating any other mental health disorder. I tried an array of medications including Vraylar, Abilify, and Latuda. I took Latuda for about two years or so, but I could no longer tolerate feeling emotionless and tired 99% of the time. For anyone who knows me personally, I love to laugh and always joke around. On Latuda, those things were non-existent. So, I was back to square one.

After much research (everyone knows how much I love to research *lol*), I finally gave in to my fears and tried Lamictal. I was very skeptical of even considering this medication due to the possibility of getting Stevens-Johnson Syndrome. I had already tried to avoid trying it at all costs for this very reason. However, at this point, I practically felt as if I were at a dead end with all remaining mood-stabilizing medications due to their side effects…mostly weight gain which was my major concern. In my mind, Lamictal was my last hope. So, I tried it. Facing my fear of starting this medication was so difficult and I honestly don’t think I slept much at all that night because I was too concerned about getting the Lamictal rash and dying (I don’t have anxiety at all *lol*). I will be forever thankful for taking that leap of faith. Lamictal has brought me out of one of the worst bouts of depression that I have ever been in.

I truly do understand that medication trials are mentally and physically exhausting. It affects every aspect of your life and anyone who has never been through medication trial after medication trial will never truly understand what you go through. As stated in my last blog, I have tried approximately 30 mental health medications since I was in my late teens. I have felt bad more of my life than I can say that I have felt good, simply due to experimenting with so many medications. Some people are very lucky and benefit from the first medication that they try, then some people are like me and consider it torture. On the days that I feel extremely unwell from this, I always try to do what my body suggests. Most of the time that consists of resting my mind, texting or talking to the people closest to me, going to my weekly therapy appointment to talk to one of my favorite people in this world, and spending lots of time with my dog, Max. My advice to you is, if you try a medication and it doesn't make you feel better, you can always stop taking it under your physician's care. No one is going to hold you down and force you to swallow another pill. You always have an option as to what you choose to put into your body.

Covid happening is another thing that has not helped matters in the least and I am certain that many people would agree with that. Covid caused my depression to spiral out of control. Living alone and not having the ability to be around practically anyone was the loneliest feeling I have ever felt and dealt with in my life. I was to a point where I said many times that I would rather die and go to Heaven than feel that loneliness and sadness for another moment. I have never really struggled with suicidal ideations, Thank God. I am actually terrified of death, and I do not think that I would ever have the courage to hurt myself. I have, however, struggled with having thoughts of wishing I would go to sleep and not wake up. This thought is primarily so that I wouldn’t have to deal with the pain and constant thoughts about my mental health anymore. I was open and honest with my physicians and therapist about this and learned that this feeling is actually very common in people who have mental health issues and is considered a symptom of various mental health conditions. The image of Heaven where my mind has no more depression, anxiety, constant fluctuations in moods, fear, worry, exhaustion…you get the idea, is a place that I wish existed in this physical world.

I know for certain that people often get angry when a loved one commits suicide, which is a common reaction for those of us who are left behind. I will be honest with you, as someone who struggles with mental health issues, no single person on this earth truly “wants” to die. At least no one that I've yet to encounter. No one commits suicide or attempts to commit suicide because they don’t want to live any longer. People commit suicide because they don’t want to deal with the pain and feeling of hopelessness any longer, so they see that option as the only way out. I used to think that suicide was so selfish, however, after being on this side of the fence, I truly do understand their heart and mind. I, as well as many others, lost a great friend/brother to suicide in 2018 (Jeremy, whom my “In Loving Memory” page is dedicated to). Feeling heartbroken when I learned of his death is an understatement and my tears seemed never-ending. Jeremy was a precious soul and had confided in me in previous years about his own mental health struggles. I wholeheartedly believe that he only confided in me because I told him about my journey and struggles with my mental health first. Because I knew his struggles and the pain that they caused him, I could not be angry at him for taking his own life. I tried to be angry with him and I couldn't be. The only thing that I could be angry about is that depression won and ultimately ended my friend's life. While others were angry, in my heart, I was content that he was no longer sad and finally at peace. Was it devastating? Absolutely. Do I miss him immensely? Yes, more than words could fathom. But I cannot let myself be angry at him. I am angry at depression. I, among many others, feel the pain of depression and I'm sure we all understand the feeling of just wanting it to go away.

With myself also being diagnosed with OCD, Anxiety/Panic Disorder, PTSD, and ADHD, I have been trying to process that just taking one or two medications may not help every single issue that I have. In my mind, the less medication that I have to take, is the healthier that I am mentally. Society has made it seem as "if you need a mental health medication, you’re considered crazy or weak and unable to deal with life". And if you need multiple mental health medications, you have completely surpassed the highest level of crazy that exists. I know for certain that people think this way because judgmental people often speak wrongly about things that they are uneducated about. And of course, I listen, while trying not to go absolutely berserk.

Since about October 2021, I have been having debilitating anxiety and panic attacks again that practically no medication will touch. Living with obsessive and intrusive thoughts (OCD) does not help a person with anxiety either. So, on top of Bipolar II Disorder, I also have anxiety and panic attacks, as well as constant obsessive and intrusive thoughts that also need treatment. Around the past 5 months, I have tried every SSRI available, which only made me feel worse. Now, I am attempting to try Clomipramine again for a second time. So far, it seems to be lessening the obsessive and intrusive thoughts, but….the anxiety and panic attacks are still relentless. I have decided to add Trintellix back to my regimen, which is the only medication that greatly improved my anxiety and panic attacks in the past. Let's go ahead and add my ADHD medication to that mix as well. Now that, my friends, truly defines exhausting. *lol*

In the past, and even today, I highly struggle with accepting that there is no “one drug fits all” medication. I have let society distort my thinking into believing that if you need more than one medication, then you are beyond a level of insanity that you are never coming back from. I am learning that nothing could be further from the truth. My psych doctor and therapist have both told me that I cannot continue thinking, “Number of Medications = Degree of Mental Sickness”. After talking with my therapist, who made a great point, I am determined to change my perspective on this. He asked me, “Would you use that same comparison for someone who is physically ill?” My brain immediately responded to myself, "Of course I wouldn’t! I’d say to take as many medications as you need in order to feel better or to be well." My issue is, trying to understand why I can't have that same philosophy when it comes to viewing myself. If one of my loved ones needed multiple mental health medications, I would be 100% supportive of their needs.

Unfortunately, there is probably not a “one drug fits all” medication that will wipe out Bipolar II Disorder, ADHD, PTSD, OCD, and Anxiety/Panic Disorder all at once. That is wishful thinking! If that medication is ever created by scientists, I will be first in line for the distribution of it! For myself, or anyone else, to think that one medication can target all of those issues, is a completely asinine thought. After today, I will no longer let society determine my degree of mental sickness based on how many medications I need to take in order for my brain to function properly. Brain health is no different from any other ailment in the human body and it deserves just as much recognition, love, and attention as any other medical condition needing treatment. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

“In very broad strokes, God offers medicine to us as a way for us to have healing, to overcome illness, to overcome infirmity and pain—all loving and kind things for him to do for us. All the medicines we have, and all knowledge is from him. Those are ways for him to express his care for us. Medicine is a common means of God's kindness, not only in that it allows us to have this avenue of healing and to be an instrument of his mercy, but because it also prompts us to pause and to love one another and to remember who it was that loved us first.” - Kathryn Butler, MD