- Drugs
I was an overachieving, well-rounded, and seemingly wise undergraduate student. I majored in psychology, minored in biology and was an active member of the honor society. I was drawn to the study of psychology and fascinated by the complexities of mental illness. I became certified as a research assistant and spent many hours with severely depressed individuals who had become crippled by their illness. I was intensely intrigued by their unique histories, their trials and tribulations. I felt an intense desire to help and to become a positive part of their struggle back to mental health. With a solid focus and positive attitude, I entered medical school with the full intent to pursue psychiatry. Unfortunately along that very well-routed path, I lost my way.
I allowed myself to become trapped in a violent cycle. I spent the nights being anxious and the days attempting to carry out the duties of a medical resident. In an irrational, misguided and futile attempt to gain some semblance of control, I took prescription stimulants to get me through the workday. This only served to further accelerate the chaos and turmoil that now defined my once organized and peaceful life. My behavior resulted in the collapse of my sanity and disciplinary actions at work. The overwhelming sense of shame, guilt and repeated humiliation only furthered my need to isolate. I lost my sense of self and my self-worth, and I continued to fall apart. Eventually life became an unbearable, toxic mix of drugs, lies, secrets and pain. I was unrecognizable. I was an addict repeatedly hurt and needing help.
That was almost three years ago. I sit here today no longer that naive girl entering medical school. I know more, I feel more, and I have more compassion than I believed was possible. I have volunteered at domestic violence shelters, spent time with the elderly at nursing homes, answered calls on suicide lines and commiserated with young women with debilitating eating disorders. Abuse and addiction are different forms of pervasive, unrelenting and consistent mental torment. The perpetual desperation strips away your foundation. Initially the self-destructive behavior is gradual, but then in an instant, nothing is left of your former self, not even a pretense to hide behind. It is in this dark, wretched, vulnerable and reclusive place that I was able to heal, to again learn and grow. I spent this time expanding my horizons with travel, literature and volunteer work. I experienced tranquility in yoga and the intense peace of meditation.
Each of us has an extraordinary ability to overcome adversity, to rise above our failures and achieve. I have come to realize the type of life I want to live. With intense resolve and impassioned determination, I am pursuing my second doctorate, this time in clinical psychology. I no longer lack the conviction or the self-confidence to step forth and create change. My struggle has resulted in a stronger, wiser, patient, and far more humble person. I have crawled out from under the fear to create a positive, productive and inspired life.
I have no inhibitions about speaking about my mistakes or the steps I have taken to overcome my shame and fear. I was surrounded by professionals when silently screaming for help through my reckless and destructive behavior, yet my intervention came from the outside. I actively speak with other professionals that may be steering off their own paths and teach them and others to recognize the signs and take action to prevent such tragedies.