This is an illustration I started in my journal over 2 years ago and only recently finished. I remember a time when I could fill a journal in a month with drawings, paintings, observations – and looked forward to getting my ideas onto paper. Slowly, over the past few years, I have felt my sense of creativity diminish, and with that, my sense of self.

In 2022, I was sent by my doctor to the emergency for an extreme salt deficiency. I was very resistant to going. I didn’t feel bad, but the doctor explained all the dire consequences of hyponatremia, including coma and death. And that the salt deficiency may explain my ongoing fatigue. So I went. In the near future, I’ll write up the experience of being a patient in the emergency room 2 years after the pandemic started, but for now, I’ll just say they found out the thing draining the salt from my body was an anti-convulsant I was on, not for seizures, but to control muscle spasms, as well as neuropathic pain.

An unexpected side effect of that drug was that it virtually eliminated many of my bi-polar symptoms, including suicide ideation. For the first time since I was a teenager I didn’t have a voice in my head that said, you can always end your life if you can’t handle it. This kind of thought process is not uncommon for people with long term illness, and I have had one since I was 16. In my late 50s, it was such a delight to have that voice silenced. Poof. It was gone.

But when they took me off this drug, I wasn’t given an alternative treatment for bi-polar and I didn’t advocate for one. Like many people with mental health issues, I was pretty sure I was “cured” and I would be able to manage any symptoms that came back with my art, creativity and social support network. That was not a good plan, though no one at the time could have talked me out of it.

Slowly symptoms have returned. Especially feelings of worthlessness, and that insidious feeling that nothing I created was important. The negative voice came back and undermined everything I was doing in my life. The joy was slowly being drained out of me.

Last October, I had to admit that I needed help. I had a new doctor who put me on a small dose of the medication I was taking before and it bumped me out of a particularly dark mood. But it also made me feel physically terrible. Thus began a journey to find a treatment that would help me get back to a balanced mental state.

I have a lot of respect for mental health care. I don’t know why we think the brain is any different than our other organs and body parts — that the brain doesn’t need medical care sometimes, just like the eyes, teeth, lungs, liver, bones and heart. But even though I am a strong advocate for mental health care, I still feel the stigma of being on mental health medication. I feel that if I was strong enough, I would just work through my mood problems and not need any help, that medication is a crutch. But damn it, if you break your leg, you need a crutch. If your brain is unhealthy, you need care. I need care. This is a lesson I’ve had to learn over and over. This time, though, I think the lesson will stick.

This last month, I’ve started a new medication, and I am beginning to feel like myself again. I’m determined to keep working with my psychiatrist and therapist until I can create art at a level that makes me content. I have had to take things that made me worse off, but instead of just quitting, this time I went back to the doctor instead. I tried other options – there are dozens of options. I enlisted the help of friends to make sure I don’t listen to any of my unreasonable thoughts about suicide or my life being worthless.

It’s starting to work. I’ve started painting again. I’ve started doodling — how I missed doodling. I’m feeling pleasure in my art and other peoples art. I want to read more. I want to be around people more. A chemical deficiency in my brain is being filled, like salt being restored to my body. It’s making life more than functional. I can see the full richness and I think I’ll be able to start contributing to that richness again.

I so appreciate all of you who read this blog and have continued to follow it, even though I’ve been so inconsistent in the past few years. I hope now I’m ready to get back to a weekly schedule, share art, books and the observations I make on this confusing and beautiful world.

If you’re struggling with emotional or mental health issues, talk to your doctor. You don’t have to go it alone, even though you may have to try different doctors and head meds before you find the right one.

The number for the National Suicide Prevention hotline is 1-800-273-8255. You don’t have to be suicidal to talk to them. I’ve used them just to talk things out that are hurting me that I don’t want to share with friends or family. Take care of your brain. It really does want to keep you alive.

And if you want to know more about various mental health conditions, I found a YouTube channel for Dr. Tracey Marks, “Mental Health Doesn’t Have to Be a Mystery,” which is informative about all mental health conditions and includes a lot of information on how to take care of your brain with and without medication – natural care, good sleep and good nutrition. The videos are short but informative and have been very helpful to me. You can watch them here. https://www.youtube.com/@DrTraceyMarks

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