Moving Closer to the
Root Issues
After engaging for 20 years with the mental health industry,
12-step programs, drug/alcohol rehabs, faith communities and any other
organizations interested in “helping” me, I have arrived at this
conclusion: the mental illness was
first.
Now, please remember this disclaimer as you read this
post: I am not a medical doctor or
licensed counselor. I have not studied
the human brain or examined how/why humans behave in a particular manner. All I know is that when I reflect on my life,
one thing seems clear: I had anxiety
first and then tried to soothe my pain with marijuana and cigarettes.
Believe it or not, I used to loathe cigarettes and
marijuana. I said I would never smoke
cigarettes. I hated their smell and it
was illogical to me that someone would voluntarily hurt themselves. Well, as fate would have it, my judgmental
young mind had to live the experience firsthand. And if it sounds like I am blaming fate, yes,
I am. Because I do believe what comes around goes around.
Certainly my rigid home environment contributed to my
anxiety. It is probably what ignited
it. I’m not blaming anyone here. This is just the product of the social and
historical environment of my African-American, middle-class upbringing. My dad was, I believe, bipolar and very
strict. I was afraid of him and my
mother, in a healthy way, and sought to please them at any cost.
It was unreasonable to me to disobey their rules. I completely bought the “follow the rules”
commands of God and my parents. It
seemed logical that if I did right, I would get right. Between Sunday School, Sunday morning worship
and my Christian home environment, I caught the subliminal and overt messages
delivered Sundays through Saturdays.
The problem was, when I turned into a teenager, my dad would
creatively find ways to keep me and my sister locked in the house all summer
and forbid us to participate in normal teenage activities, behaviors and
emotions: reading magazines, teen
dances, riding bikes into the city on the summer, crying over spilled milk, etc.
Nothing I did was ever good enough and, in my opinion and my
sister’s, I was a “goody two shoes.”
(It’s true. Ask her.) I was afraid of my dad and afraid to break
the rules and his word was the gospel and the law!
But I still managed to get in trouble.
The first physical sign of my own psychological, internal
trouble were ulcers. Yes, I had ulcers
at the age of 14. One of the church
ladies thought this was strange, odd and a bad sign. I still remember the look on her face and her
expression when I told her. I don’t know
why I opened up to her, but I did. I
knew something was wrong in our homestead.
I knew it in my gut. But Daddy
wouldn’t acquiesce to my pleas for family counseling.
On the back of my school bus, the older students smoked
marijuana. I still remember the look on
my best friend’s face when I marched to her house and asked her for a cigarette
and the following week began to smoke marijuana on the back of the bus.
In rehab, we are taught if a person’s mental illness is not
treated, they will self-medicate (i.e. use illegal drugs to soothe the
psyche).
By the age of 16, for reasons yet to be discovered (medical,
emotional, etc.), I tried to commit suicide.
I was not high on alcohol or drugs when I made the decision. But I do remember being plagued with thoughts
that no one loved me or wanted me. Lies
really. My parents did love me and
demonstrated it, at the very least, by providing a food, clothing and shelter. They showed it in other ways too, but my mind
didn’t see it that way.
That, to my recollection, is the only time I tried to kill
myself without alcohol or drugs being a contributing factor. So, I am inclined to believe that the mental
illness manifests first, and then, left untreated, drug usage or some form of
self-harm will follow.
Please note, I am not saying that everyone who uses drugs
has a mental illness. I do not profess
to have that kind of authority or intellectual knowledge. Certainly, some substance abusers begin their
trek in an effort to fit in with their peers.
All I can do is share my experiences.
But, I would also like to know the thoughts of others. Do you agree or disagree? I would be interested in reading someone’s
comments.
Be blessed,
M