mental-health

Chapter Twenty-two: Self-Acceptance

/ daniellemacquarrie / Leave a comment

I think sometimes I had this notion in my mind that once the bathroom scale flashed a certain number, or if I could shop in specific stores, or if my dress size met the standard of beauty that was “bestowed” upon me, I might finally be viewed as worthy enough. Worthy of what? I’m not entirely sure, but there is always a part of me that felt like once those pieces of me were perfect, I would feel whole.

When letting go of weight or losing weight, I guess it depends on whether it comes back—either way, it didn’t change how I felt about myself. Once I lost 80 pounds, I could look in the mirror and think, “It’s just one less thing I have to worry about on top of a long list of other things I stress over.” Still, suddenly, I dealt with getting attention from many people who viewed me as something I didn’t see myself as, and I felt entirely uncomfortable because I hadn’t healed emotionally.

I thought my issue was the weight itself when it was just a symptom of me trying to keep people at arm’s length, and when that was taken away, I was suddenly left with the realization that I didn’t have that protective barrier anymore. Eventually, the weight returned, and I could isolate myself from the world and essentially lose myself in my sadness, which I succeeded at doing for quite some time.

The problem was never the weight. The issue stemmed from being taught untruths about myself and that I lacked value because people in the world deemed my appearance less than theirs, and I could never see myself accurately due to those early wounds. There are probably some issues with body dysmorphia because I remember moving out of the way on the bus while I was with a friend, and she commented that I seemed to think that I took up more space than I did.

I just felt like every person who hit on me during that period of my life was fooled by some mirage that they couldn’t quite see through, and I was terrified of letting them in out of fear they would be disappointed if they saw me for who I was. So, I stayed away and didn’t date since dating sucks, and I had major fears about intimacy. My hair started to fall out eventually, which was brutal and did a number on my egoic self. I hope I can regain that in my heart someday, but I know I will be okay no matter what.

I eventually shaved my head, providing more peace than I had anticipated. I know objectively, other people may not understand and see it as a mistake because I looked less attractive afterwards. Still, it wasn’t a choice based on desirability but rather one of necessity. In my mind, it had become like a diseased limb that needed to be removed to move forward with my life, and its removal from my body signified an end to dwelling on the things I could not change.

In all honesty, I genuinely like who I am as a person, and I love so many of my qualities. Whether I meet a specific beauty standard has no bearing on how I feel about who I am as a person. Beauty is subjective, and although there are many universally attractive people in the world, I will not argue against this fact. Still, something must be said about the entire picture of a person and whether that person makes you feel happy and safe.

Falling in love helps let us see ourselves from a different vantage point, and falling in love with yourself is one of the best things you can do because you start to realize how valuable you are and what you bring to the table.  I could change every aspect of my personality and physical appearance, and the person I’m trying to impress might leave anyway, and then what am I left with? I feel like I’ve lost pieces of myself and wound up alone, regardless.

I’m unsure of how universal these feelings are; perhaps others might not relate to these thoughts, but love has always been elusive. For some reason, I have wrapped up so much of my self-acceptance into romantic relationships. When it always comes back to loving yourself first. If you don’t love yourself first, you might wind up not appreciating your love, or you’ll find someone who doesn’t enjoy the love you have to offer. So, you should take time and find the beauty within yourself to see that beauty in other people.

Sometimes, it just takes one person to transmute our self-image and make us realize those parts of ourselves that we find shameful and unlovable are non-issues. You feel more at ease and perfect despite your incredibly imperfect. These interactions can help, but no matter what, it always comes from loving who you are on the inside and realizing that you are worthy. And I strongly recommend repeating these affirmations to yourself: I am worthy of love. I am worthy of devotion. I am deserving of respect. I am a good friend, and people enjoy my company. And I am worthy of relationships where I feel at ease with myself.

Because we are not meant to spend our days in the company of others who merely tolerate us, and if you find yourself in group situations where you feel that way, it’s always good practice to find new friends. It’s not worth your self-respect and time to be around people who make you think you’re undeserving of being in their presence.

Just remember that the more you recognize those pieces of yourself that are part of why you are incredible and marvel at your uniqueness, the better off you are, and the better off the rest of the world is because you don’t know what kind of impact you can have on someone else’s life. Because keeping yourself small and hidden away from the world isn’t the way to make a difference in the lives of others.

Remember that there is a reason for being here, and you’re just as important as anyone else. Take some time to be gentle with yourself and find the light within. You are so beautiful, my friend, and that beauty has nothing to do with the colour of your hair and how expensive your clothes are. It’s about remembering your divinity and realizing all the beautiful things that make you—you! I wish nothing but the best for you and hope this book finds you well.

Chapter Nineteen: Healing Wounds – “Half Adopted”

/ daniellemacquarrie / Leave a comment

I often conceal my weirdness, but any semblance of normalcy disappears when I listen to the internal dialogue inside my head. My inner monologue chatters incessantly most of the time, and it’s something that I just assumed everyone did. I realized recently that my childhood loneliness made me fast friends with my inner self. I don’t know how unusual this is. Still, I frequently speak to myself at length within my mind, often trying to figure out how to solve issues without openly discussing everything with others.

This approach is helpful, and I can speak about issues at length because that’s how I work through it. As someone who can’t afford therapy and often must figure things out independently, it has been my way of dealing with everything. As a child, I sometimes felt like I wasn’t allowed to express my feelings about issues, and I think it was a coping mechanism I learned very early on. I could remain entirely within my little world, and I developed daydreams and internal conversations with myself to survive.

My mom did her best and insulated us to the best of her ability. She raised my brother and me independently; he and I often marvel at how she did it. I have zero doubt being a parent is one of the most challenging jobs in the world, but I’m also positive that my mother endured immense trauma in her early years, some of which she had inherited from her parents, and I know life wasn’t easy for her. I can’t even begin to imagine how she dealt with her many life hardships and the experiences her mother and father went through in their own lives.

The world is becoming a gentler place. From a historical context, it’s hard to fathom how different we experience things now versus centuries ago, but we are progressing to a gentler way of being. There are exceptions to every rule, but even the simple fact that public executions are no longer something you take the wife and kids to or the fact that we don’t witness gladiators fighting to the death in colosseums anymore is an indication of that reality. There is much less brutality and much more self-reflection now than there has ever been.

Do I think my maternal grandfather, fresh out of serving in World War II, would have focused a lot of time and attention on being bullied, and what kind of ramifications hurt feelings had on those he interacted with? Hell no. I’m sure he sees things differently today and maybe sees value on the other side, but I also know he wasn’t afforded the time. The ability to navigate those emotions when he dealt with the trauma of watching his best friends die in a war and had to go on living after that and support a family of 5 children.

Wars continue to rage when so many of us wish they didn’t. I feel that, on average, people are afforded the ability to be gentler with one another now more than ever before, and use the examples of the rise of veganism, the recognition of the Black Lives Matter movement, Trans visibility, and the legalization of gay marriage to help make my case that we are heading in the right direction. At the very least, we are beginning to allow people to live their lives more openly without fear of repercussions.

I am so grateful that I live during a time when immense generational trauma and family karma seem to be more on the forefront and that we as a planet have become more self-aware of where our shortfalls stem from. Even though recognizing that healing needs to take place, taking steps toward emotional healing is often extremely difficult. There are so many systems in place and unspoken rules within family dynamics that make it difficult to transcend all the learned behaviours and coping mechanisms we have developed and internalized as we have made our way through life.

Some of my feelings about otherness stem from only interacting with my mom’s side of the family. My father couldn’t be a father and struggled with his demons. He just wasn’t there in the way either of us probably wanted. He wasn’t a paternal figure in my life, and I have immense empathy for what he’s been through. I’ve never considered him my “actual” father since I never felt I could rely on him.

I remember I travelled across the country to see my grandmother when she was close to the end of her life and began making her journey home. I remember sitting in her hospital room surrounded by her loved ones, and I recognized so much of myself in these people I didn’t know. It was so interesting because I always felt half adopted growing up, just because I didn’t see that aspect of who I was, and there was some solace in those moments. I have consistently recognized specific quirks, personality traits, and interests I didn’t realize were genetic. I felt privileged to see aspects of myself reflected in other people who didn’t know anything about me other than who my grandmother was. 

My father is Irish Catholic, and I feel like I inherited some of the traits associated with that culture without ever interacting with it. My father struggled through life, and I became keenly aware of nature versus nurture when I met his family members. I also wondered about what kind of inherited karma we gain through our genetics and how impactful DNA is on a subtle level.

My love of films and ability to thrive at trivia games has been inherited from that side of the family. I recognized some genetic predispositions, too, and wondered about the notion of “Catholic guilt.” When I was 20 years old, I visited a psychic and was told that I had inherited Catholic guilt even though I hadn’t been raised Catholic. I passed it off like it was silly to say until I interacted with these people who were effectively strangers. I was not raised with religion and spent little time in the Catholic Church. While spending time with these people who were genetically my relatives but knew nothing of my life, I realized they had similar ways of expressing themselves and had similar creative leanings. It just made me wonder how deeply connected we are on a genetic level.

Nobody is perfect in life—thank fuck! It would be super annoying if that were the case. Still, I think there’s something to be said about the idea of recognizing how issues have been inherited and how much things often get swept under the rug, or we feel the need to continue specific cycles or patterns because somewhere along the line, we were told it was better to continue doing what has always been done rather than charting a new course because it seems too difficult to change.

As I’ve grown older, I feel more at ease with who I am and see the value I offer. I realize I possess many inherited beliefs that I would like to question a bit more. In terms of being told what is true versus what feels right to me, my hope is that I continue to develop as a human that I continually strive to heal in every way I can.

I think the more we work through our traumas, shed light on the darkness and help others through their processes, the more we can free ourselves of those layers, the weight we’ve picked up along the way, and all those things we were told to carry that were not ours to carry in the first place.

So that we can fully embrace the “weird” and not worry so much about how it’s interpreted and how we are perceived because, ultimately, it’s so much more affirming to be who you are and do that rather than try to appease people that aren’t even worth it in the first place. Life is way too short to focus on trivialities like that, and I think a lot of it stems from just working through the things we inherited and sifting through what works for us and what doesn’t anymore.

Most of the things we’re told to continue doing are done in the guise of, “Well, that’s what works,” but there are a lot of institutions in this world, and many things don’t work that well. Sometimes, it’s good to have a fresh perspective on everything and question the nature of specific institutions. I think it’s essential for growth on an individual level and for society to continually challenge frameworks and adjust the lens through which we see our realities because that is where the magic happens and how progress and innovation are made. We don’t evolve as individuals without questioning our current existence and shared history, which is part of why knowing about our past in a social sense is essential, but also knowing where we came from helps us understand who we are and where we are going.

Chapter Eighteen: Pearls of Wisdom

/ daniellemacquarrie / Leave a comment

There is no such thing as a coincidence—that is a fallacy, and when you begin to see the intricate play of situations that make up your life, you will start to see more synchronicities. There will be times when you are in alignment, and you notice things taking place in your life that leave zero shred of doubt as to what direction you should follow and what choices you should make.

A few years ago, while waiting for a bus on my way to work, I was working as a temp in a car dealership, hating every moment, and I remember one day, I was oblivious to everything happening around me. I had my earbuds in and the hood of my winter jacket up, and I was trying to keep warm before I could get on my third bus that morning. Suddenly, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder, and I looked up and saw a young, attractive man standing before me. I immediately took out my earbuds and looked up as he motioned towards the street we were on and asked me if any buses were expected to arrive at our stop.

I glanced to where he had pointed and realized the entire street was closed, and water was gushing everywhere. I started to panic because I knew I was still far from the dealership and had no idea how to get there on time. One might assume someone his age, who was younger than me and seemingly more put together, would have a cell phone. He immediately started asking me questions to which he already seemed to know the answer and guided me on which app to use and how to find the best route.

I luckily made it to work on time. Although I didn’t stay at that job very long, it was a stepping stone that saved my life figuratively. Without this perfect interaction, I wouldn’t have made it to work on time and likely would have quit shortly after, preventing me from getting to the next step in my journey. He needed to be there then, and I needed to listen to his advice.

I knew immediately in a spiritual sense what had happened. I had experienced moments like this and heard people talking about it in their own life. It might not have seemed as significant to others, but it was for me. It was that recognition of knowing there was more in my physical reality and this world than we can fully comprehend.

This notion of being in the right place at the right time is very much orchestrated on the other side, and a story from a family friend whose car broke down in the middle of nowhere often comes to mind. It had overheated, and she got out of her vehicle and tried to find out what was wrong. She began tinkering under her car’s hood when she heard an unfamiliar voice say to her, “I think your radiator needs water,” a few moments later, a man returned with a jug, which she poured into the radiator.

She started her car, put down the hood, and looked around to find herself alone on an isolated road. She knew something otherworldly had taken place but wasn’t sure what happened, but immediately went to see my mother, who could only tell her, “You’re driving around with holy water in your car.”

I’m sure there are moments in your own life when you tell other people and explain to them how miraculous it was that you survived a situation that seemed so daunting, or when you received the right words at the right moment, or you have heard about a friend who received some divine intervention that changed their life forever and could have even changed their views on spirituality.

The language that surrounds these scenarios is less important than the acknowledgement that they exist. I feel the importance lies in recognizing what took place was sacred. Perhaps beyond that not-too-distant veil that we may think is much further than it is, someone decided to step forward and assist in some manner to help you get to where you need to be.

These situations can also occur subtly more when we are guided through synchronicities where we hear the perfect song playing that reminds us of someone we love or multiple people tell us on the same day to apply for that job we’ve been considering. When we continually see spiritual signposts that gently nudge us to where we’re supposed to go for what seems far too long, we might feel more supported by spirit. It’s no less essential to receive those synchronistic moments in life. Although the big moments are great because they are good examples that allow us to feel heaven on earth for a moment, the reality is that even those seemingly less significant situations are just as critical.

The reality is nothing matters, and yet, at the same time, everything matters. In the same way, no life on earth is less important than another; the same is true for our choices and how interconnected everything is to the spirit world. There is no separation, and there is no death, and our lives, in retrospect, are very brief. What matters is being kind to ourselves and each other and remembering that we are just as crucial to that cosmic puzzle as the colleague who frustrates you the most, or your best friend who is doing way more exciting things in life than you are, or the homeless person trying to keep warm.

So, when you have a miraculous experience with a stranger who approaches you and tells you the absolute most perfect thing at that moment, trust that what you experienced was complete and divine. Feel the love that represents deep within your soul because that’s what it is. It’s their way of helping you and ensuring you don’t feel alone or guiding you in the right direction. So, if you ever receive wisdom from a kind stranger and are reluctant to heed the advice, remember those words stem from a place of unconditional love and that they want what is best for you. Treasure those interactions and remember how treasured you are.

Chapter Fifteen: Storing Tears – Revisiting Ourselves as Children

/ daniellemacquarrie / Leave a comment

I’ve always had issues with crying, even as a child, not because I didn’t feel my emotions profoundly but because I often felt I wasn’t allowed to express myself in that way. As a result, I developed a knack for saving tears until I thought I could cry without feeling insecure about it.

Somewhere along the way I learned that it was easier to store everything inside and bottle it up—until I felt safe enough to release it. This manifested in a way that I didn’t fully feel emotions for my life for a very long time. I could recount the most tragic events from my past with a sense of detachment, as if it took place in someone else’s life, like I was reading a stranger’s story, but I might become overwhelmed by a random inconvenience.

Until recently, I would cry maybe once or twice a year about something in my life, and it was usually when I was on the phone with customer service or some other equally inappropriate time. It would feel like a faucet being opened, incredibly overwhelming and uncontrollable like my body would store these emotions and lock them away but would occasionally relieve the pressure in awkward ways.

I realized quickly as a child that crying during a movie was more acceptable, and I didn’t need to worry about being “teased” for expressing myself freely within a darkened room. My brother worked at the town theater and could get me in for free, and when the film The Sixth Sense came out, my mother and I went to see it a few times. During one of the scenes in the movie, Cole tells his mother about his grandmother, who was deceased, and he can relay information to her about her past. It was a very emotional scene that I relied on during that time to help rid myself of the tears I had been carrying. 

When the film was released, my neighbor had killed one of my pets. It was clear that he had done this, and it was something that my mom made apparent that she was aware of. We lived when things like this were more acceptable than they are today. Social politics deemed his behavior more acceptable in an area of the world than it should have been.

I feel he was unaccustomed to a person rejecting his claims of innocence, and he called her a few times to deny any wrongdoing. He was a fisherman who beat his wife and his children and ended up admitting himself to the hospital for psychiatric care shortly after this took place. I’ve since made peace with having to experience that, and I am grateful that I didn’t need to spend any more time with him than I already did.

I became more sensitive to my well-being and childhood wounds through my spiritual development. As a result, I went from crying twice a year in the most awkward ways to fully feeling my emotions and being completely caught off guard by them. It felt like I had been wearing protective clothing my entire life without feeling any sensation—to suddenly being over-stimulated by every emotional upset while simultaneously reliving the past and sifting through my memories, trying to recount and make sense of myself.

It was a lot. It was a lot for me to adjust to, and it felt akin to feeling absolutely nothing to everything all at once. For a time, it became easier to hide from the rest of the world, and I lingered in that energy a little longer than I would have liked to, but it felt necessary at the time to be able to get through to the next phase of my life. It felt like the butterfly was wrapped in a cocoon, where transformation occurs at the height of the pain.

Around this time, I saw a video on TikTok. It was about healing childhood wounds by spending time with your younger self. The woman in the video suggested that going out and doing an activity she loved as a child and spiritually, including that version of herself, brought her immense healing.

It’s funny how things like listening to music loudly, privacy, or even being alone amongst the trees signify wealth. We often don’t consider how those opportunities aren’t always available to everyone. But it is very much the case, and being alone in the woods was my safe place as a child, and I tried my best to spend some time in a park within walking distance of my home.

I started to think of my younger self as I sat on a park bench and what kinds of signifiers would have mattered to her. I imagined her sitting next to me and telling her about my life, and I realized she would have loved our time together. She would have found me kind and funny and would have been excited to hear about my big orange cat. She would have been so happy to know that I still write and get excited about life the way she did.

I realized how unimportant those perceived deficits would have mattered to her, and ultimately, they don’t matter to me. Sometimes, it’s easy to see yourself as a failure, no matter who you are or how others might see you. And I was relieved thinking about myself at that age being OK with who I grew up to be, and that gave me so much solace and made me way happier than I expected. It was an exercise that I found so much more emotional, but it felt good to see myself with less judgmental eyes, and I highly recommend it to anyone feeling less than, unaccomplished, or struggling. Just as a practice in reconnecting to your sacred self and finding a more compassionate view of who you truly are.

If you find that it brings up heavy emotions, try to work with that energy and speak to that version of yourself and let them know they are safe now and that you thank them for the lessons they have taught you and the emotions that have resurfaced. You can thank them and let them know it’s no longer necessary to feel those heavy emotions and that sadness, and you can pray that Source takes away your burdens and rids you of what you’ve been carrying.

I can only speak to my personal experience, but I did find this exercise extremely helpful in healing. I am unsure what your experience will be. Still, if you put out the intention that this exercise is beneficial and gentle in its approach, then I feel there is so much opportunity available to you and how you can change how you think and experience life.

Chapter Twelve: #Canceled

/ daniellemacquarrie / Leave a comment

Many people can relate to the idea that sometimes we are villains in other people’s stories regardless of how we see ourselves and how good we are. I think it’s impossible to get through life without offending someone. Much of my life has been spent actively trying to avoid offending because I have this tendency not to want to hurt anything or anyone, but no matter what, eventually, somewhere along the way, people will view you as an antagonist who got in their way or interfered in their life in some capacity.

I am far from perfect, but I strive to be a good person continually, and I have former roommates who are no longer my friends who were there during dark times in my life and who I’m sure could attest to how truly imperfect I am. I would 100% agree with them, without question. Our perceptions are subjective; sometimes, we don’t always know what’s going on in someone else’s world, and others might view us in ways that wildly differ from how we see ourselves.

I remember I was invited to a wedding. I was too broke and embarrassed to mention that my gift would be late, which, in hindsight, would have provided enough clarity to avoid any misunderstanding. Still, for someone who often struggles with anxiety and has an avoidant nature at times, it has been difficult in the past to mention these things or talk about them openly. Unless you have experienced certain things personally, people don’t go out of their way to empathize, how they might perceive a situation or scenario, or where another person might be coming from.

Several months before the wedding, I had purchased a greeting card congratulating the new couple on their happy life together and was waiting to get paid before I sent it along with some cash. I attended the beautiful outdoor wedding and enjoyed my time there. I went back home, and a week or two went by. I reached out to her through social media and noticed that she had deleted me from the app, as did her brother.

Four years went by before I saw the couple again at a barbecue. I received an icy reception emanating from the woman. During our brief conversation, she made a point to reference that she bought her purebred dog with her wedding money, which I felt was her way of confirming the reason for her ending our relationship. I considered bringing it to her then, but it didn’t feel right then. I saw it as a teaching tool for me and felt the need to hold on to it for some reason.

I regretted not voicing to her that I didn’t have money when I went to her wedding—that maybe it was wrong of me to attend a function like that without providing a gift at that moment. I thought about the embarrassment I felt as a result, and I dwelled upon how she might have perceived me, but ultimately, when she made that comment four years later, I felt okay about no longer having her in my life.

The reality is sometimes, when we have those encounters, it’s way more about the other person than it ever is about you. There will be people who dislike you immensely; they might outright hate you, wish ill will for you, and will not cheer when you succeed, and there is nothing you can do about trying to win over that group of people. Ultimately, you wouldn’t want to anyway because why cling to those who don’t even like you?

And there will be times when you are most certainly the jerk in the situation; you are the asshole, and there is no way around that. It’s an innately human experience that we will all take part in, and the best course of action is to blame yourself once, apologize, make amends if you can, and move forward because constantly dwelling on it isn’t helping anyone.

I come from a spiritual perspective with most aspects of my life, and I view the idea that we are all jerks, at least some of the time, as a necessity of life. In the spiritual sense, we are all effectively teachers and students, and everyone has their wisdom to share. Often, that wisdom comes in the form of harsh life lessons, but we can often look back at them or specific periods in our life and think, “Oh wow I’m a different person now as a result of those moments,” despite how difficult that situation was for me.

An example might be that in the wedding scenario, my lesson was about overcoming embarrassment and letting them know their gift would arrive in a few weeks. It could be about being more comfortable with frankness and alleviating doubt in situations where doubt can come into play. I know that I learned the value of being open and honest about my intentions, and maybe if there even was a lesson to be remembered for her, she might have gained more insight into assumptions and what kinds of things we assume about people.

I honestly don’t know, and if there is one, her takeaway has no bearing on my journey. What I do know is that often, our greatest teachers in life are the ones that cause us the most frustration. Some of my best course corrections have stemmed from deciding to see things from a different point of view, reevaluating, and changing direction so we can move forward.

Changing your perspective can make a world of difference. In the example of being “cancelled,” I didn’t lose out that much in terms of a relationship because I wasn’t that close with this person, but I did learn a valuable lesson through the supposed loss. Having her effectively delete me from her life had more growth associated with retaining that one additional friend on social media. I developed more through this scenario than if I were still friends with her on Facebook.

I’m sure there are situations in your own life where you can look back upon moments and notice how impactful certain endings have been in your world. In some scenarios, you are better off without them, or you change due to that loss. You probably needed to cut ties at other moments and felt relieved when you did. Sometimes we are the asshole but have also been a victim. Sometimes we are teachers, sometimes the students, and often, we are both simultaneously. Regardless, there are lessons to be learned from being impactful and having an impact, and the intention is always to grow and learn from those interactions and try to do better the next time.

Chapter Seven: Psychosis and Finding a New Reality

/ daniellemacquarrie / Leave a comment

I never really struggled scholastically and always did well until university, where I began to find it challenging to stay on task. It was the first time in my life that I was 100% accountable and had to be motivated to wake up and go to school, do my assignments, and everything else on time. I wasn’t accustomed to having to try so hard, and it was the first time I was required to get through it all independently.

Suddenly, I was in a different province, away from home for the first time. I was 100% accountable for every misstep and found having many assignments due all at once difficult to manage. I started failing miserably at something that many people assumed I would be good at, and I was too stubborn to change directions, so I thought maybe I was to blame.

I was living with a friend who had once taken ADHD medication, and she noticed that she could accomplish a lot more while taking her medication. I looked up the symptoms online and saw many of them had paralleled my experience. I spoke to my family doctor about getting a referral to a psychiatrist to be assessed. Part of the diagnostic proceedings involved having friends and family fill out questionnaires and self-assessment tests to complete.

Some of my friends didn’t feel comfortable filling it out, but they did anyway, and inevitably, I was diagnosed with ADHD and was prescribed Adderall. Finding the proper dosage for me involved taking small doses at a time and increasing them until I felt I was in the correct state. I was supposed to self-monitor to see what level was best for me, and I took the highest dose of Adderall.

I remember I noticed some issues within the first few weeks, but I continued taking the medication because I was aware of the weight loss connected with taking a drug like that. Until then, I had already lost around 50 pounds, but after taking Adderall, I lost an additional 30 more. Mind you, at this point of losing 30 pounds, it wasn’t due to eating well and being thoroughly hydrated. It was through having zero sense of hunger and not sleeping for days. So, I continued with it as my relationships began to dissolve, and I struggled with navigating living arrangements when I wasn’t even speaking to the people I lived with.

The chaos that inevitably consumed my life continued for over a year and a half. It was so subtle at first. I have always described the experience to others as if I was slowly lowering myself into a warm bath, not because it was comfortable, but because it seemed so natural and as if I was slipping from one state into another. It’s just one of those points in my life that I rarely go back and examine because it wasn’t me living it.

Most days, I feel like those memories were from someone else’s life, and I get flashes of things here and there like I’m remembering it all from a dream. It began with making accusations towards a person I was in love with. That relationship dissolved, which would have eventually run its course anyway. Still, things progressed to making accusations against a professor of mine and finally hurling accusations against close family members.

During that time, I could lie in bed for hours staring up at the ceiling, envisioning horrific cartoon characters playing out weird scenarios using the chipped paint as a backdrop, or I could believe certain things transpired when they never really did. One unusual thing for most people who struggle with mental illness was how astutely aware I was of the fact that something was wrong, but I just wasn’t sure what that might be. I began researching my symptoms and tried to figure out exactly what was going on with me; I thought it might be the medication, but I banked on it being something else entirely.

My mother was struggling with trying to continue working while she had no idea what was going on in my world and began making psychiatry appointments for me every week in the hopes that I might ask her to take me to see the doctor one day.

Eventually, I did, and I asked for help. I remember speaking to my psychiatrist about no longer having any identity and had concerns about my future. He instructed me to immediately refrain from using the medication I was prescribed, but gave me new pills to take, and told me to go for walks but not to interact with anyone.

I found a journal entry years later where I spoke at length about my interactions and being told to take antipsychotics and only doing so to see “what might happen.” Within a few days, my mom noticed a shift in my eyes and demeanour. Within two weeks, I also noticed that things became more apparent, as if a thin veil in front of my eyes slowly vanished into nothingness, and that all the interactions I thought I had no longer existed.

They were merely figments of my imagination running wild, and suddenly, the world was tuned to a different dial than the one I had grown accustomed to. I was left sitting in this void that is very indescribable if you haven’t experienced it for yourself. I highly do not recommend it if you can avoid it, but those experiences gave me wisdom that I carry with me today.

Fortunately for me, my issues stemmed from a drug-induced psychotic state, and I was spared the fate of requiring this course of treatment for the rest of my life. I continued taking antipsychotics for several years until I felt secure enough to discontinue that course of treatment. That is not to discount medical intervention and the effectiveness of medication in terms of treating mental illness, which is a medical issue of the brain, but like any medication, if you don’t need to take it, then why would you and I’m happy that I no longer require these drugs to function in society.

Meditation and prayer are essential for feeling good, mainly because I am so sensitive to energy and my emotions. So, I require those moments to keep me balanced, modalities I utilize along my journey with mental health. Sometimes, things can get overwhelming when I don’t, and I must look at myself and realize that is something I need in my life now and in the future.

One of the most important lessons I learned from this experience was that I didn’t need to change myself to fit in with an educational institution that might not have been the right choice for me in the first place. I also didn’t need to take medication to let go of weight in hopes that the boy I was in love with might find me more appealing when he wasn’t attracted to women in the first place. I learned that many of us can go through dark periods and rarely speak of it to anyone else. We can survive insurmountable challenges, pick ourselves up again, and continue our journey until we inevitably make our journeys home one day, hopefully when we are old and tired and falling apart at the seams when we do.

We may find people in our lives that use our weaknesses against us. We might dwell on missed opportunities when those options were never meant for us. Whatever is meant for you will eventually find its way to you; if it doesn’t, it wasn’t yours in the first place. Sometimes, those things we think we lost out on were either helping us to shift our perspective so we could manifest something better into our lives or were steppingstones in our journey in life. Most importantly, it might just be about us learning something greater about ourselves overcoming obstacles and trying again tomorrow.

We don’t come into this world to have one good thing after another happen to us. We will face adversity and feel left behind sometimes. There will be days when we ultimately might think we are unworthy of being here and will want to throw in the towel. Undoubtedly, those awful moments, and even worse, will happen, but it doesn’t mean there won’t be good days that make us long for those moments and keep us here despite it all—because the goal is simple.

There are only a few requirements: to continue to try to be a good person whenever possible and not skip out too early. It isn’t even fire and brimstone if you can’t do either, but it’s preferred that you do both and certainly help as many people as you can, as often as you can.  Also, follow your bliss! What fills you with passion is an excellent map to follow and look for joyful moments whenever possible!

Choosing to incarnate on earth isn’t easy, and you should give yourself a break to remind yourself that you’re doing better than you realize. Maybe your words can impact someone else’s life and make their journey easier. Sometimes, the greatest gift you can give someone else is letting them know that they’re not alone, and then, even if it’s just true, expressing your journey in some way, you have no idea what kind of impact you can have on someone else’s life.