
May is Mental Health Awareness Month. While working on my memoir yesterday, I found myself reflecting on my earliest memories of mental illness.
My first encounter with a diagnosed mental health disorder happened when I was 11.
My mother was dating Bryce, who would later become her husband. One afternoon, my mother, Bryce, his son, and I were in the car, returning home from an outing.
As couples do, my mother and Bryce had gotten into a disagreement about something. I’m sure it was something petty… We were all adjusting to becoming a blended family, and tensions were running high.
I remember tuning it out because I knew to stay out of grown-folx business lest I get caught in the crossfire.
All of a sudden, Bryce, who was riding shotgun, said, “I need to go to the emergency room! I think I’m having a heart attack!”
That caught my attention.
My mother drove straight to the ER.
At eleven, I had no understanding or experience with mental illness. My prepubescent mind and cynical nature led me to think, “This man is faking a heart attack to get out of this argument!”
In the ER, the doctor ordered an EKG, which later confirmed that Bryce was not having a heart attack.
“I suspect you were experiencing a panic attack, also known as an anxiety attack,” the physician explained. Breathing a sigh of relief, Bryce replied, “Oh, I know panic attacks all too well…”
Since I was inquisitive and witness to what was unfolding, I listened as Bryce summarized his extensive mental health history for the doctor, which included Bipolar II disorder, PTSD, and panic attacks.
Panic attacks? Bipolar? PTSD?
These terms were new to me, as up until that point, I assumed doctors and hospitals were for physical problems.
In the curtained-off “room” in the emergency department, I learned that there are conditions in which a person can become so overwhelmed that they feel like they are having a heart attack — that your mind can be in pain just as your body can become injured.
Years later, when I was an undergrad, I began to experience several panic attacks daily. I underwent mental health treatment, which included medication and therapy to manage the symptoms — that pivotal season in my life inspired me to continue my education in graduate school to earn my counseling degree.
I had some great conversations with Bryce when I was working on my master’s and during my counseling residency. It was a full circle moment when I could use insights gained from personal experience and higher education to chat with him about mental health.
On July 4th, 2017, Bryce ironically suffered from a major heart attack, which took his life. Due to his mental health history and the psychotropic medications that he was taking, the examiners initially thought that this was a suicide or overdose attempt. Months later, the autopsy confirmed that those assumptions were incorrect.
I share this story to normalize common misunderstandings and stigma about mental illness.
Be kind to yourself and others. It’s hard out here!
Thanks for reading.
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