About a decade ago, my mental health was so bad, that doctors told my best friend Cricket there was no hope. That it was simply a matter of time before I killed myself. She just told me that recently.
I owe my life to her. A woman of uncommon strength, grace and fortitude, she stood by my side throughout. She took me in when I needed to be hospitalized. She tried to persuade me that I shouldn't undergo Electro-Shock-"Therapy". She drove me back and forth to the "treatments", as she had no legal voice against my choice. A choice I made, when suicidally depressed, which I would otherwise have been against. She stayed true to me, even as my own sister told me how much she resented me. Even as my own parents stayed away.
Cricket watched the same films I rented time and again, the films I couldn't remember seeing. She told the hospital staff that I was still slicing my wrists, as I went in for yet another shock. A week later, when we came back, they were appalled to see the damage that I'd done. They hadn't listened. I don't remember much of those years. I know that I liked being knocked out by the "small prick" guy.
I lost so much. Many people think that it's a gift to not remember 9/11. I beg to differ. Can you imagine how much else I have lost, to not remember that most horrific of days? My mind used to be quick, with photographic recall that would help me cram for exams, whilst still remembering the entire last-order of the bar I worked in.
There are people, right now, dissecting the deaths of mentally ill people. Some would have it that their medications are why they died. Their contention is that if this person was not taking their medication, or if they were not withdrawing from their medication, or were not changing their medication, then this person would still be alive.
Psych medication has a long way to go. Pain relief medication works almost instantly, as do other life changing and saving meds. This is simply not true of psych meds. They take weeks to take effect, they have side effects that would make the Pope concerned and they come with a host of shady deals that make Enron look squeaky clean.
But, if it weren't for them, I'd be dead. Maybe not such a big deal in your book. But Cricket is now my family, so she'd give a hoot. I also have a few cats that would like it if I fed them. And there are some people in my painting class, who probably think it's good that I stick around. At least until the opening of our show in February.
I'm not really stoked to take meds. They are not the thing I wake up excited about. But if I don't take them, my view on my life and myself plummets. My psych doctor and I have worked hard to streamline what I take. But the fact of the matter is, if I don't take a certain amount of medication, I will hallucinate, become paranoid and suicidal and respond appropriately. Not so good for my cats or my friends. If it were just me?
I'd not take the meds. I'd end up homeless. I'd kill myself.
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