I’m sitting across from my Dad at his dining room table. It’s a cheap knock off table. The kind made to look like wood. My Dad sipping on his fifth or sixth beer. At this point, I’ve lost count. I had just explained to him all the things I’ve done to survive to reach this moment. I sit there staring into his glassy bloodshot eyes. A small look of disgust resting on his face. He says to me, “Why did you do all of that?” The only reply I had to give was, “I didn’t have a … Read more...
Addiction is living a life only you understand. Your addiction is your security blanket. It is always there when you need it. No matter how dark the nights get you know you can rely on it.
Addiction is being two people at once. There’s the person constantly reminding you what you’re doing is wrong and unhealthy. Then there’s the person telling you your substance of choice is the only way to keep living.
After a while you begin to become confused as to which person you truly are. You question yourself, “Do I ever really want to … Read more...
There are all kinds of addicts, I guess. We all have pain. And we all look for ways to make the pain go away.” – Sherman Alexie
It was a blindingly bright sunny day in Fort Sill, Oklahoma in 2010 as I boarded the plane that would take me home. As I found my seat, anxiety began to jar me as if I were already experiencing turbulence. In my hands was my DD-214 (Discharge from Active Duty), flooded with military jargon I couldn’t translate. The phrase I could read was written at the bottom of the page.… Read more...
by Jon FarrowThis is a story all about how my life got flipped and turned upside down when my brain told me to toss my meds.
I’d like to tell you how I became the prince of a town called unstable.
I made a mistake I swore I would never make. I stopped taking one of my most important medications. I was prescribed Seroquel nine months ago. Before Seroquel, I was having a really hard time managing my thoughts and emotions. I would experience disturbing nightmares every night. I also had issues with hallucinations.
I’m sick, very sick. I haven’t been this sick in a while. When I hit this low I make sure to constantly look at pictures of my family to remind myself of why I fight through this.
My wife recently lost her grandmother. I have tried to push my illness deep down so I can be strong for her. The deeper I try to push my illness down the more it pushes back. I feel guilty for not being there for her the way I should and want to be.
I woke up at 3:30 AM one night recently from a dream of me standing over my Dad’s casket. It seemed like it was a repeat of my Dad’s final viewing, except this time I was completely alone. The only living person that existed in this scenario was me, my dad’s body, and the room.
When I woke up, I had this feeling I couldn’t really describe. That feeling stuck with me the entire day after. The more I thought about that feeling the more I realized what it actually was.
You suffer in silence out of constant fear of being persecuted. You bury your pain into the deepest obscure corners of your heart for fear of being labeled as crazy or insane. You try to fake it, to be strong, to be normal, all the while carrying this misunderstood weight on your chest.
Living with Bipolar Disorder can feel like driving a car and suddenly the steering wheel falls off. You can feel in control for days, weeks, or months at a time. Then suddenly you … Read more...
Suicide among the LGBT community, especially among the youth, is a topic I believe deserves more attention than it has received. According to the National Action Alliance for Suicide Prevention, there isn’t official national data in America for the rates of suicide among the LGBT community. One reason being there isn’t an accurate percentage of the population who identifies as LGBT. The other reason being that particular information isn’t included with the release of a death certificate.
Researchers from various institutions, such as the American Journal of Public Health, have found despite the lack of national average … Read more...
Since the news of Chester Bennington’s death I have heard and read the term selfish being thrown around to describe his death. Losing the battle to mental illness is anything but selfish. Hearing the word selfish to describe someone’s death is a trigger for many– myself included.
For two weeks after losing my Father to suicide, I locked myself away from the world. I shut my blinds and allowed the darkness to consume me. I had struggled for so long that I just wanted the pain to end. In that time period I thought about losing my … Read more...
As much as I would like to, I will never forget March 16th, 2014.
My now wife and I had just started dating when I texted to tell her that we wouldn’t talk for a few days. I’m sure it put her on edge, but her response was she hoped everything was okay and that she was there if I needed anything.
As I drove around in my car alone, I felt the pain and emptiness crawl up from within me. I pulled over and texted her to ask if I could call because I needed someone … Read more...