In the Psychiatrist's Office

(Important Disclaimer: I'm not a psychiatrist, and so if you're on medication or thinking about getting off anti-depressants, talk to your psychiatrist first. I literally have been talking about trying life without medication with her since October 2013. I know nothing about how this brain thing and chemicals and stuff work, and so journeying with my psychiatrist has been key.)
(Important Disclaimer 2: Yes, I was in the psych ward in Spring of 2012 for five days. You can read more about that here!)

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I sat down in my psychiatrist’s office, a smile growing on my face. For almost the past year I had been persistent in bringing up to her that I wanted to wean myself off of medication slowly, “just to see.” Since October we had been reducing the dosages of the two medicines, and when the month of June rolled around, I stated that I wanted to try living day-to-day with no medication.

Besides the logistics of "I actually don't know how to get medication to Mission Year," I wanted to try living without medication because I believe that what led me to the psych ward and on medication were circumstances within my control (as in, things I could have done differently), and not related to my brain chemistry which is out of my control (as is the case with mental illness as a whole). Two and a half years ago during that downward spiral and mental breakdown, I didn’t have the tools I have today which help me in finding stability. Because I didn’t have the tools, medication was actually helpful in balancing my drastic mood swings and helping to stabilize me. I see that medication was good for me in that season of life. (Hindsight is 20/20, people.)

I also wanted to try living day-to-day without medication because there has been a lot of growth in my life in the last two years. By growth, I mean that I have learned more about how I operate, triggers that send me spiraling into deep depression, what to do when I’m incredibly anxious. These lessons have not been learned alone during this dark period in my life—in the past two and a half years I’ve gone to counseling (provided free through BGSU which is a GIFT!), I’ve met consistently with various mentors who have listened to me and challenged me, and I’ve been surrounded with a deep community of people of faith from all over Ohio who have helped me to understand my role in this Eternal Drama. Whereas before the psych ward I tended to journey alone (or felt as if I was a burden to journey with), now I’m trying to embrace “pack mentality”—the reality that we’re just all in this life thing together. I need to be surrounded by people who encourage me, challenge me, and call me out (and help me out) in my day-to-day, and I want to do the same for others!

(The irony of this is that it was in the psych ward that I was hit with the stark reality of this interdependence thing. How beautiful is that?!)

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By no means is life any easier now than it was during the downward spiral that led me to the psych ward. In fact, in the past two months I spent two to three weeks in a really really dark place where I was pretty convinced that it was never going to get better. I was cynical about all of my “therapies”—art, playing music, writing, talking to people, running, hanging out with kids, etc. I didn’t really see how life was even worth living with all the terrible (a constant struggle for me...we truly treat one another horribly as human beings and it really gets to me), but the Lord has proven faithful and reminded me of what is True and that I can put my hope in Him. He has surrounded me with specific people and conversations and has journeyed with me once again through another tough transition.

As I sat across from my psychiatrist, I was able to relay in confidence that everything was still hard and difficult, but it was okay, and I wasn’t alone. I actually giggled as I said that. We talked for a few more minutes (and I unveiled the lie that I'm believing basically saying that I didn't know if I could live without meds because I don't trust that I won't go to the ward again), and then I asked the question that was burning in my mind:

“Should I make another appointment before I leave for Mission Year?”

“No, I think you’re good to go. You know where I am if you ever need me. Just go ahead and walk out without making another appointment!”

She got up to give me a hug and I screeched "THIS IS HUGE!" Even as I write this, I am tearing up at the depths of that moment when I left her office. I thought about the first time I sat across from her not to long ago in 2012. She had seen a young woman who didn’t know up from down or how she was even going to function in a world that she couldn’t be perfect in. The joy had been sapped from her—she was a shell of her former self. My heart aches for that young woman to know the depths with which she is cared for.

The psych ward is a part of my journey, and I will never deny the deep, despairing darkness that led to my admittance, and I will always continue to tell the story of the slow (and beautiful) journey towards Hope, renewal and restoration that has taken place and continually triumphs over the darkness in my life ever since.

Onward together, my friends.