(Trigger Warning – Suicide, Self Harm, and Suicidal Ideation)

Originally Published June 6, 2023

“Honest Conversations Save Lives”

It’s August 2021, and I’m staying with my close friend in Seattle, Washington, for a week. It’s supposed to be a fun birthday trip for me, but quite the opposite is true. While she is at work, I am walking on a river trail, repeating to myself, “Just walk until you don’t want to kill yourself.” I say this over and over as I’m hysterically crying. I ended up walking 9 miles and still felt hopeless and lost. I have gotten off my mood stabilizing medication again, and I am highly suicidal.

My friend is concerned about my well-being and doesn’t know what to do. I am so off that I can’t control the thoughts inside my head telling me that it’s time to end it. In my sickness, I am sure if I keep running, doing hot yoga, eating clean, staying sober, and doing positive affirmations, I will cure my terrifying brain disease. As if it’s a character flaw, I can goal-set my way out of it. But I’m wrong once again.

At this moment, it’s clear that I need my life saving medication, but I’m too ill and stubborn to realize it. In my sick mind, I feel like a failure if I go back on pharmaceuticals. But the truth is, without an antipsychotic to stabilize my mood, I am going to die.

The week before this trip, I was in Oregon at my Uncles when I found all of my old suicide notes from 5 years prior. I cried as I read them, knowing that I was back in the same desperate place I had battled in the past.

In my suicide notes, I explained in detail why I needed to leave this earth and how I couldn’t battle myself any longer. I listed who I wanted my few belongings to go to and told whoever reads my letter to share the 20+ journals in which I described my resounding hell.

While I’m in Seattle, I make a plan to kill myself and contemplate hanging and overdosing. I arrange to get rid of all my stuff so I don’t burden my loved ones any further than I have in the past decade. I wanted to disappear cleanly and quietly. The longer the war goes on inside my head, the harder it is to keep fighting.

In my low, the swells of anxiety and depression crash into my brain like waves. My internal regulator is broken, and I question everything in my life. I keep replaying all the mistakes I made on repeat and can’t stop. I feel like everything is out of control, and I can’t breathe. I want to scream at the top of my lungs.

From the ages of 21 to 33, I have battled suicidal ideation and wanted to end my life. Most people fear death; I fear being alive. For over 13 years, I have lived with a brain that isn’t my own. It is a malfunctioning machine that randomly goes from manic highs to suicidal lows that want to take me off this planet.

The first time I wanted to end my life, I was 21 years old. I had been taking antidepressants for 5 months when a nagging dark whisper told me to stop living. I felt like I was going insane and that I needed to keep these thoughts to myself. I went from anxiety to crying spells, to panic attacks, to deep despair.

In 2010, when I went home for Thanksgiving break, I calmly told my mom that I was going to commit suicide. Naturally, she freaked out and drove me to the local hospital. When I arrived, they did a mental health assessment on me. The behavioral health practitioner put me on a 51/50 hold and arranged for me to go to a psychiatric unit. At the time, my options were the psych ward or the graveyard, so I agreed.

On the 90-minute drive to Green Bay, I had no idea what I was about to experience or endure. I pictured all the horror movies, straight jackets, and Girl Interrupted scenes. But when I arrived, it was nothing like that. Every person who worked there was truly trying to help me get safe and feel better. It was an uncomfortable but lifesaving experience.

While there, I participated in therapy groups, art classes, one-on-one counseling, fitness activities, and doctor assessments. I stayed there for a total of 8 days, and on the fifth day, three doctors called me into a conference room. When they sat me down to tell me my diagnosis was Bipolar Disorder, I dropped my head and cried. That was the moment my life changed forever.

I was devastated and gave up on all my goals that very day. My dreams of becoming a doctor instantly got flushed down the toilet. I became very insecure and did not know how anyone would want to date or love me. Worse, I did not know how to continue living a productive life. I got terrified and started making excuses. I began to use my bipolar card to get out of anything I didn’t want to do. Slowly, I became the worst version of myself. 

Since then, I have been trapped in a battlefield of misfiring brain chemicals that cause me to lose touch with reality. Two different personality traits have dominated my life – Happy and Sad. Euphoria and Despair. Mania and Depression.

When I am manic, my mind operates on five different channels, and I am consumed with delusional thoughts and creativity. I believe I am about to become famous or win the lottery. I turn into an aggressive, defiant, overconfident narcissist. I am unable to see or feel how sick I am and have little to no self-awareness.

Then the depression comes, and I know her quite well. We have been doing a scary dance since I first met her in college. It gets so severe it slows down my speech and makes me unable to process logical and safe thoughts. I am consumed with guilt and fear. It makes me feel completely alone, even if surrounded by people or hugging my partner.

The mental agony drowns me with my clothes on. I am a heavy towel left outside during a thunderstorm. I slide down to the bottom of the well and stop trying to climb back up the slippery walls. I give up on everything and want to disappear forever. I don’t scream. I just start writing my final goodbye.

Next, there are the mixed states—those are the most dangerous for me. These wild mood swings are why I have so many stories, why I moved to so many cities, why I took so many lovers, why I got so many jobs, and why I burned bridges everywhere I went.

My unpredictable moods ran my life and caused me to quit jobs, relationships, and residences in a single day. I always felt on fire and engulfed in flames because I wasn’t sure who I would wake up to each morning.

These mixed moods stole my ability to work and function for weeks, if not months. I literally couldn’t keep a job. I would wake up hysterically crying and unable to show up and pretend at a workplace. It was an embarrassing and confusing nightmare.

The more I quit, the more scared and insecure I became. I quit over 13 cities, 11 jobs, and nine relationships. Quitting became all I knew how to do. And there was only one thing I hadn’t quit yet…

When I’m struggling, I think about all the times I almost ended my life and the 10 mental hospitals I checked myself into. I remember the police officers and paramedics that drove me to safety. I think about all the psychiatrists, counselors, doctors, therapists, nurses, and 30 different medications I tried.

I think of all the shame and guilt I experienced from being so out of control most of my existence. But mostly, I think about my unsuccessful struggle to lead a “normal” life in such a superficial society.

When I got home from Seattle that summer, I felt like I was living in a low place and couldn’t find a ladder to climb out. My happy, motivated, hopeful side was nowhere to be seen. But as I contemplated my grand finale, something stopped me. I decided not to quit my life.

I’m not sure what it was exactly. Maybe I was scared to die? Perhaps I felt guilty for my friends and family? Maybe I knew I had too much left to do? Either way, I decided to call my doctor and get help. I went into my bathroom cabinet, found my old antipsychotic medication, and took one. I knew without these mood-stabilizing chemicals, I had no chance.

Then I made a new plan – A plan to continue my life. It wasn’t easy because I had let every part of my life go. As I tried to move forward, my past trauma and blurry drunk memories weighed on me like sandbags.

When the negative screaming thoughts played on repeat, I had to close my eyes and say, “You can do this, Leeanna. Whenever you have a low, you come back stronger and smarter.” I may have only half believed it, but half was more than enough. I knew it was going to be a lot of work, but at least I had another chance at life.

I started watching videos on how to get stable and repair my brain. Then, I began drinking more water and journaling day and night. I went outside and started walking a lot. But most importantly, I got back on my medication and slowly began to participate in my life again. The pills always help the deadly thoughts go away – It may take days, maybe weeks, but gradually they disappear.

Many of us are taught to hide and numb our hard feelings because it makes the people around us uncomfortable. When a problematic feeling or memory comes, we drink it away, smoke it away, pill it away, drug it away, eat it away, or exercise it away. We are not supposed to cry or say what we think when it is dark. It’s no wonder why I used alcohol, marijuana, food, and pills to escape my war zone brain for so long.

I finally stopped numbing out because I knew it was only prolonging my pain and delaying my healing. It took time, but I now know that my feelings will not kill me and that I will not kill me. I have too much left to live for, too much left to experience, too much love to give, and too many stories to share. And so do you.

There is no shame in getting help, taking medication, or being hospitalized. I had to go to dozens of doctors and therapists and be treated many times at hospitals before I was able to learn the skills and coping mechanisms to keep myself safe. Just like anything, practicing and repetition allow us to improve.

The bottom line is that I had to get extremely sick to become extremely healthy. I almost lost my life many times before I woke up and got serious about my mental and physical health. It took me 13 years to find the proper medication and lifestyle that I have now. Without a mood stabilizer/antipsychotic, I am unable to lead a safe and balanced life, so I take one every night.

What helped me get out of my darkest times? I follow a schedule, set goals, have a healthy routine, use positive affirmations, and take my medication. I fought structure for years and struggled miserably. I used to dread a routine but slowly realized that good habits create freedom for me.

I feel less anxious and get much more done daily when I stick to a routine. Now, I have a whiteboard on my wall on which I write my weekly schedule and goals. Slowly, with practice, I have gotten better at positive thinking, time management, and cleaning up my life.

With my highs and lows and horrible employment record, I had major insecurities about keeping a job and being able to support myself. I realized that not everyone is meant to work a 9 to 5 or work for an employer. So, four years ago, I got a car and started driving for rideshare companies like Lyft and Uber. Back then, I was highly social and loved talking to people. Now I am more sensitive and enjoy being alone, so I work for food and product delivery companies instead.

Working a 1099 gives me flexibility and freedom. I can set my own schedule and hours, which allows me to get adequate sleep and focus on my mental health. No matter what my moods are, I can work around them. I can exercise and take a nap whenever I want.

I always say, “You can’t lock an animal in the office,” and currently corporate is not for me. Now, I work toward my big goals and live a low-stress, high-quality life that I deeply enjoy.

I have been stable for over a year, and I am beyond grateful. Rebuilding my life and relationships became easier as I focused on what mattered. Three years ago, I made a rule that my mental health is always more important than money. Losing your mind 100 times wakes you up and gives you perspective.

A saying that helps me when I’m struggling is, “A lot of people don’t have the capacity to handle you, and those are not your people.” The truth is that people can only go as deep with you as they have gone with themselves. I truly believe that those who face more challenges in life have bigger purposes. That is why the training is so strenuous and challenging.

Mental health challenges can make you feel alone and wreak havoc on your relationships, life plans, and self-esteem. I may have bipolar disorder, but I no longer let the stigma rule my life like it did in the past. It has only made me more substantial, braver, and confident.

Now, I embrace my mental enhancements, love my close relationships, and live an exciting lifestyle. After going through all these challenges, I know I can truly do anything I set my mind to—and so can you!!

I believe we connect and heal through vulnerability and honesty. If we want a safer and healthier society, we must get comfortable talking about the hard stuff. When we don’t talk about mental health, people die – So let’s start talking.

If you are struggling, healing is possible.

In Crisis, Call or Text 988

Or Call 1-800-662-HELP (4357) 

Which is a free and confidential Treatment Referral Routing Service

Remember – Don’t trust your bad moods. Things will get better! Please Keep Going!

I love you.