My dirty little secret…

Hello my lovely (and patient readers)!

I know I have not updated in awhile.

There are many reasons.

I could say I have been busy with preparations for my move to Alaska, which is true. I could say that there is so much to share it is overwhelming, which is true. I could say I have been busy with my teaching job and trying to do it better than I usually do, which is also true. However, the number one reason is because I have been afraid. I have always wanted this space to be one in which I share my authentic self to the world in hopes that my experience may be beneficial to others who may be going through the same thing but are too scared to share or don’t know how to share or think they are the only one going through these things or whatever other reason they may have. And I still want this space to be that. However, with therapy and insights of loved ones who are less “open” than me and more private with their day to day life, I have learned that privacy is not the same thing as secret keeping. AA has taught me that secrets keep us sick and I took that quite literally my first few years of sobriety and shared every single thing of my life with people. It was not a bad thing because I had been taught in childhood to keep secrets so as to not embarrass the family and then when I was in active addiction, I kept secrets out of shame of my illness and trying to hold my professional life together. But now, I am learning nuances and the gray areas in sharing of secrets that may differ from what I have been taught in recovery.

I am giving you all this verbose background to explain why I have been quiet. Recovery has also taught me to pause when I do not know the right decision and wait for the answer to come. This is in line with my Quaker roots that my grandparents taught me as  a child in which we meditate and wait for the spirit to speak to us and then we share when we have heard that message. If more people in this world paused when unsure or facing indecision, I think many of the world’s problems would be solved. So I have paused on publishing anything publicly because of people close to me who need privacy and I cannot share all of my story without dishonoring their wishes for privacy. I have also paused because although I wanted to share one last thing about me that I have not publicly shared, I was paralyzed by shame and fear. I was still also processing this part of me. I was hoping with time, I would feel more confident to share. However, as time goes by I am realizing that all those other reasons for not updating may be true, but my real reason for inaction now is fear. Future Events Appearing Real is an acronym I have learned in recovery and I refuse to live in this state anymore. So…here is my long awaited update.

Since I got back from Africa, my mental health has been tenuous. The unraveling began in Africa and because I did not give myself the time to heal from that experience before jumping back into Jen as a superhero to fight the world’s injustices, my mental health deteriorated further. It meant that I was really messy in my professional and personal life and have not acted in ways I would not normally because of this. It has caused my close friends and family to worry about me terribly. It has caused me to worry because of what it means for my limitations professionally. It has caused my wife a lot of pain and worry. I feel terribly for this but I did not know what as happening as it was happening.

Ok..I am ripping the bandaid off.

During the five years I went through my malpractice lawsuit from 2012-2017 (if you don’t know details, sorry but you can read about them at a different time, hopefully when my book is finally published), my depression and anxiety got to critical levels and I had to go back on medication that I stopped once I went into recovery. This shouldn’t be a big deal but there is still stigma about mental health in our society, medical community and within AA. There’s an added complication that I have family with some hard mental health diagnoses that affected me during childhood in many ways and similarly to my alcoholism, have made me afraid that my familial genes of mental illness would one day manifest symptomatically in me. Well, this day has come.  

My anxiety and depression turned into PTSD that was undiagnosed for many years from a direct result of the trial and then restimulated when I had to be “monitored” by the the NC Board of Pharmacy in 2019 after I applied for a dispensing license to provide free or low cost birth control to my patients while employed at Planned Parenthood. There are more details I would love to share about this experience and will in time, but the monitoring meant I had to have random drug tests, monthly meetings with a paid monitor and provide evidence that I was attending 4 recovery meetings a week for a year. The supposed purpose of all of this was to prove I was safe to dispense BIRTH CONTROL PILLS to my patients because I was truthful on my application about my history as an addict and alcoholic and the consequences I have had because of my disease. I want to rant more but will save you from that.

Consequently, in February 2020, right before COVID hit, I had a suicide attempt due to untreated PTSD and depression. There’s many reasons why it was not diagnosed and treated even though I am a person of privilege that has health insurance, was being treated for mental illness and is VERY active in my recovery program. I will not get into those reasons here but they will be in my book, so stay tuned. However, the good news is my sweet dog alerted my sweet wife in the middle of my attempt and I am still here on this Earth to continue to work on my treatment for all my various diagnoses while also living in a really hard, sad world which is juxtaposed with a lot of joy and gratitude. I am so grateful I am alive today. My dog and my wife are my angels. 

I entered therapy in 2018 and got The World’s Best Therapist and she and I diagnosed me with Bipolar disorder. This is the last piece of information I have kept from you and again, there are many reasons why, but finally, I am letting go of fear and my secrets. When she and I went through the checklist, my Bipolar seemed to be  Bipolar II which means I had mostly depressive states. I had only shown 2 occasions in my life when I had hypomania. They resulted in a week at a time in which I didn’t need sleep and had this feeling of immense serenity and joy that the world was “ok” and life was wonderful. Those weeks weren’t scary and if that was how my Bipolar manifested, I was alright with that. I went to a Behavioral Health specialist (an NP because of course I did), and we both decided (with guidance from my therapist and relatives with similar diagnoses) to add a mood stabilizer to my antidepressant. 

For a long time that worked for me. You see, Bipolar usually doesn’t show up until someone is in their 30s and is usually misdiagnosed for a long time before someone is put on the right medications. I am a healthcare professional that has been taught to treat Bipolar but my subjective symptoms were difficult for my objective professional brain to detect. I was also in denial because I had always been afraid I would inherit this condition. When I went to Africa and went under intense stress, it seemed to exacerbate my Bipolar symptoms when I returned and I have had at least 2 very scary hyper-manic episodes. This may mean I have Bipolar I instead of II but time will tell.

One hyper-manic event lasted one weekend but I was left with memories similarly to when I in active alcoholism and would black out. I only remembered snippets of what I had done and said during that weekend. Unfortunately, hyper-mania can seem similar to a relapse of drugs and alcohol and people close to me were uncertain why my behavior was manifesting as it was. It led to misunderstandings, hurt feelings and my own embarrassment to how I acted to those around me. It also showed me how very I lucky I am to have people in my life that may not understand what I was and am going through, but still love me where I’m at and accept me where I’m at. This means a lot because this has not always been the case for me.

The second experience was much longer and I still haven’t completely figured out how long it was but it was at least a month. Consequently, I stopped working at Planned Parenthood, but kept my teaching job (until very recently) and have been struggling figuring out the best treatment plan for me, especially knowing I am about to cause a huge stress and disruption by moving to Alaska and starting a new job. Many people around me have concerns that now is not the time to do this big move, but actually, Alaska is part of my treatment plan. Juneau is a small island and the pace of life is slower due to Mother Nature and its distance from the lower 48. There is less stress there. I also get to be in my element of Maine-like winter conditions that I have missed (although Nikki has not missed these from her youth in upstate NY), and will enjoy hiking and skiing and kayaking and the water like when I lived in Maine and was most happiest on Orr’s Island (off the coast of Maine). I find restoration in nature and it is where I feel closest to my higher power. There is the added benefit that I also have an amazing job waiting for me there with already close friends as coworkers. 

Last week my wife and close friend convinced voluntarily check into a locked medical ward for treatment of all these symptoms. It allowed me time to sleep and rest and forced me to sit the fuck down and take care of myself! I know I am not alone in the desire to help everyone else and ignore my needs. I was not happy with my circumstances and it was not great timing but mental health is the same as physical health and it was that serious for me. I feel so much better and it has allowed me to continue with my preparations of my move and all the other things.

I am going to stop the update there. There is more of course but I just finished visiting my Gram and now am off to visit my Aunt before heading back to Durham. However, I parked myself in a coffee shop to finally write this because I have been needing to but hadn’t given myself the opportunity.

Thanks for reading this and supporting me. Thank you to all of those who have worried and  prayed for me during these last few scary months. As much as it is scary to be the one going through treatment of addiction and mental illness, there is also a huge strain on the ones who love us. Know that I see you and appreciate you for staying in my life even though it causes you pain and worry. I love you all and have so much gratitude going into this period of Thanksgiving.