Which came first: The addiction or Mental Illness?

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

How to Live the Good Life

Emotional Health is a Biblical and Secular Concept

3 John 1:2

Theological terms such as mind, body, soul and spirit can leave us confused as to which one refers to our emotional well-being.  After careful research, here is what I found:

3 John 1:2 reads that the writer is praying for his friend’s body to be as healthy as his soul.  There is an assumption in this text that the soul (feelings, will, desires for power, sex and satisfaction) is as healthy as the body.  In fact, the reference is to the person being holistically viewed and not just from a spiritual, “yes, you need salvation from sin” perspective.

We make the same assumptions today.  If someone looks good on the outside, they must be well internally.  However, all that external glitz and glam can also be a cover-up for internal shame, impulsive buying behavior and/or creative ways of avoiding self.

This week the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration honors National Wellness Week.  Twellness covers eight areas of a person’s life:  emotional, occupational, financial, spiritual, physical, social, intellectual and environmental.  Their belief is that a person enjoys overall a healthier life (socially and physically) when they experience wellness in each of these areas.

his agency believes

This does not mean we won’t struggle to feel good sometimes.  There are plenty biblical examples of temporary depression and anxiety.  David, Job and Jeremiah all cried out to God, in written form, to express their sorry, despair, lack of lust for life and other emotional down points to the God of their understanding. 

They knew God would listen.  They also knew God would comfort. These examples are proof that humanity needs emotional care too.  They prove we can trust God, believe in God and still be sad and troubled sometimes.

In the African-American church, it is common for parishioners to seek emotional support from pastors instead of psychiatrists or psychologists.  In a world that advertises more and more attention on the emotional well-being of individuals, how has the church approached this subject?  Anxiety, depression and other emotional maladies can restrict a person’s ability to properly process and handle a variety of life circumstances.  The Michael Brown incident in Ferguson, Missouri is just once example of how external circumstances can throw a person into a season of anxiety and/or sadness.

Can the church provide support and comfort too?  Not just on Sunday mornings but through the week?  Is it willing to employ and secure trained counselors, psychologists and/or therapists to help diagnose and guide people into a healthier place emotionally?

Interestingly enough, that the historical context of 3 John references how Christian love is demonstrated.  The writer states it is through hospitality and support – putting the needs of others before one’s own needs – as a true reflection of Christ’s love demonstrated on the cross.

Yet, often when an emotional despondent person presents in the worship experience, church leaders want to immediately usher them into healing versus addressing the emotional issue itself.  Is it possible this particular individual has a history of depression or being anxious about small things?  If so, what has the person done in the past to secure more self-control in their lives?  Have they seen a therapist?  Have they tried medication?  Have they tried changing their personal home environment to establish a more safe and secure physical existence?

Maybe one of the reasons believers can’t prosper in their financial situation is because they haven’t addressed their emotional response to living itself.  Impulsive behavior, a by-product of anxiety, leads to financial instability and, for some people, unexpected trips to jail.  If anyone impulsively buys clothes or hits someone who makes them angry, these are the consequences to their actions.

Stable living is a byproduct of a healthy life.  Yes, this includes an emotionally healthy life too.  In 3 John 1:3, the writer says he is proud his friend’s life “stays clean and true and continues to live by the standards of the Gospel.”  But, his friend is able to do so because he takes care of himself mind, body, soul and spirit.

A successful recovery, a stable life is built on a solid, healthy internal foundation.  The eight areas of SAMHA are one view.  The biblical perspective is another.  But the truth remains, you can’t build a brick house on quicksand. 

Achieving a sense of balance and wellness begins with stable emotions, good health and sound decision making practices.  Most likely, the more support a person has socially, the more successful they are to achieve wellness in all areas of their life.

Anchored: In Times Like These

In times like these, you need a Savior

In time like these, you need an anchor

Be very sure, yes be very sure

Your anchor holds and grips the solid rock

 ~

Words and Music to In Times Like These

by Ruth Caye Jones

It is difficult to begin a relationship with God while in the basement of psychological and emotional pain.  How can one find a way to trust God when all hope is lost and all that was lost is gone?

Difficult, hard and problematic to say the least. 

I understand the conundrum because when I was in my emotional basement, I was angry at God, questioning the love She said she had towards me.  I was also suspicious of what She said was her nature as a good, merciful and faithful God. 

How, when in a fetal position of depression and paralyzed in my bed, could I turn my thoughts towards trusting God when nothing seemed to be going right in my life?  It is in these difficult times, I need a Savior.  Not a human crutch or just a medicinal fix.  I need a Divine Savior.

I found that to anchor my soul in a tight grip on God to be an act of courageous humility and blind faith.

You see, for me, having a relationship with God is better than not having a relationship with a Divine Power greater than myself.  At least, when I get angry, sad, depressed and upset, I have something to direct those energies toward. 

And, when I am joyful, happy, and playful and mischief, I enjoy the other side of this relationship that tends to bring the same ups and downs common to connecting with others.

           

On this particular day, I am grateful the God I love can’t be swayed or manipulated by my temper tantrums, selfish demands or bouts of sadness.  When my anger turns inward, God is there to remind me to be loving towards myself, gentle, patient and tolerant towards me.  After all, God is those things toward me.  Why can’t I be those things towards myself?

I am forever humbled by my parents and the faith community they raised me in who pointed me towards a God who is greater than I.  This God is big enough, tough enough and wise enough to gently handle me -- remembering I am dust, created in His image and subject to bouts of mania, depression, anxiety and unrealistic expectations regarding my reality.

           

Yet, Her love remains.  It is sure.  It is steadfast and it is eternal. 

            Her presence is my life anchors me.  What I mean is, God’s presence and loving guidance allow my life to have a specific, unique meaning.  A starting and ending point for all philosophical musings, theological wrangling and specific, unique idiosyncrasies. 

It fact, the more life stuff I go through, the more curious I become about His nature.  This helps me remain hopeful because there is nothing about me that God can’t handle.  I am accepted, affirmed and loved – no matter what!

I find hope in this God who created me in His image and tells me, “You belong to me.  I created you, I love you and I will never leave you or abandon you.”

           

My soul finds comfort and peace in our interactions.

           

When tears stream down my face, they fall into a bucket of raindrops – received, nourished and wiped away ever so gently because God really does care for me.  When no one else on earth seems to care about me, respect me, honor me or help me, God lets me know He cares.  And, then God will send someone along to demonstrate just how much he cares.

            My soul is resting.  It is just a blessing.  Praise God, I am free to be me, loved and anchored in the Master’s hands.

Be blessed,

M