Why do I have to be the staff right now? I thought, I want to go back to being the client.
Standing outside of the hospital, I knew I had to go in. But I didn’t want to.
This is your job, and it isn’t even that hard, I thought. Just go in, get them and take them home. By the time it’s over, it should be time for you to go too.
Going home. That sounded wonderful. At home I was only dealing with my own emotional issues and not trying to help others with theirs. As a Peer Support Specialist, I was expected to have all of the right skills and confidence to help others deal with their mental illness’.
But I hadn’t had either of those things for a while now.
I took a deep breath and walked through the automatic doors. I was the only person available to get the client at the moment, so I had to go through with it. It’s my job, I reminded myself, and it’s not hard.
After dropping the client off, I didn’t feel the relief I had expected. Even knowing that I would soon get to spend time with my son, who I will call Ford, didn’t help me feel better.
This is when I pulled over and cried. I couldn’t help it; the tears just came. And they kept coming, nonstop, for at least five minutes. The doctor and I had been long aware that my psychotropic medication was not working properly, if at all. And changes I had made to diet and exercise habits were not doing enough on their own. I knew I was sick, but I still had a job to do.
* * *
Two weeks had gone by, and I hadn’t gotten any better. In fact, my symptoms had gotten worse. But I refused to call in, seeing as we were short staffed. I had legitimately begun to believe that this job was more important than me and was my only real use in life. I won’t get into what happened next. I will only say that it took me being in full blown crisis to understand how much help I really needed. That evening, I was taken by ambulance 200 miles away to a behavioral medicine unit.
The unit was a living hell for me. It seemed like everything there triggered one horrible memory after another. The rooms, the people, even what was on the television. I lived in constant fright for those four days. It was bad enough that after the doctor found what he believed to be a suitable cocktail of antipsychotics and sleep meds, I all but demanded release. I bought a bus ticket online and waited for over an hour in a dangerous area of town (a harrowing story all on its own) to be taken back to the town where I live.
But arriving at home didn’t mean that I was well. Far from it. For a few weeks I experienced psychosomatic illness that again, I won’t get into. Let’s just say that I took two weeks for my doctor to convince me that the illness had no physical cause. They also suggested that my job (that I still hadn’t returned to) was behind it.
I want to say that I was taken aback and thought there was absolutely no way this could be true. Emphasis on “want to say.” But I knew it was. Even before my medication stopped working properly, it was a hard job. I felt like I had to have all the answers, all the time, for everyone. And thanks to my Autism and daily increasing anxiety, my social skills were simply not cutting it. As much as I wanted to be a support in every way possible, it just wasn’t happening. The following week, I officially quit my job.
The next day I was left to think, What do I do now? Peer Support has been a passion of mine for years, even through my crappy execution of it. While thus in thought, I was reminded of something. It was back when I had first decided that I wanted to make a blog and was considering getting Peer Support Specialist training. The voice of the Spirit had clearly said to me, You can only reach a few people as a Peer Support Specialist, but with a blog you can reach many more. So there it is, my golden invitation. This is why I need to do this blog, so I can continue on in the work that I love to do, but in a sustainable way. By proving a glimpse of my mental health journey online through the lens of faith.
* * *
This is the story of “Of Peers and Parables.” It’s a blog using my own life experiences to teach about mental health issues and gospel principles. Sometimes together, sometimes separately.
I hope I will see you back for my next post.
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