The Power of Help

 

There was a time when I thought I could handle my mental health issues. I knew myself (or thought I did) and I could deal with my own problems.

Wrong.

My hubris kept me from embracing all the amazing parts of a healthy recovery. I pushed away my wife, family, friends, and medical professionals. I didn’t need someone to tell me how to take care of ME! 

They say the male frontal lobe doesn't reach full maturity until 25 years of age... But it might be longer in some.

So I was resistant. Resistant to talk, resistant to listen, resistant to suggestions, resistant to avenues of help I have never recovered... Because I was too proud. 

Proud of what? That I was a man? That I was a military veteran? A war veteran? A firefighter? Excuses. Every last one. 

I was afraid. Afraid of what I knew but more afraid of what I did't know.

It only took years of personal abuse (denial, depression, drugs, and alcohol), abusing those in my life (emotional and mental), and nearly taking my own life to realize my issues were bigger than I could handle.

I started by talking with my wife, which allowed me to be honest and vulnerable. I always felt there was a negative association with vulnerability but it couldn't be further from the truth. It allows you to be honest and understanding.

Conversations led to options that continued to open and branch out. I learned it was ok to not like everything I tried. It was part of the process and part of the healing. 

Part of me wishes I could go back and make changes and better choices... But I wouldn't be who I am today. I made it a lot harder than it needed to be. 

Believe me, it's harder to be stubborn and push everything away. Be better than I was... Choose a better path.