Crazy in Love? Nah, Just Crazy.

Trigger Warning : Drug Use, Self Harm and Depression .

I was a stripper, an exotic dancer, a pole princess. Whatever you wanna call it I did it. One day soon I’ll tell you guys more about that. I never hide that part of my life from anyone and I’ll never be ashamed of it. A job is a job and money whether it is hundreds of thousands of dollars all in singles that were thrown on your ass as you twerked is still money. When I was a dancer I did a lot of Molly. It was the hot thing at the time and kept me up. I did a lot more of it than I should have. I can admit Ive tried my fair share of drugs including Percocet, cocaine (one time), and even ecstasy. I am a whole hot mess, yes I know. I wouldn’t change a minute of it though, because I have used the lessons I learned during that time to grow.

Now I’ve suffered from depression for a long time but have y’all ever tried to explain that to a parent from the Caribbean? My mothers suggestion was to drink some tea. She didn’t understand and I couldn’t explain. So I dealt with it all by myself for a long time. Let me just give you guys a quick science lesson. We have happy hormones that our body creates called serotonin . When we do certain drugs the body releases a ton of serotonin all at once and thats the happy high we feel. Obviously the high doesn’t last forever so when it wears off because the brains serotonin supply was depleted you spiral into a depression and you literally cannot be happy. So imagine me after a weekend of heavy drug use, serotonin levels fully depleted , crashing, already suffering from depression , now extra depressed. I cried for no reason for days , contemplated suicide and even cut my wrists with razor blades that I used to hide all over my bathroom.

Then one night my parents decided to talk to me about the fact that I was essentially ruining my own life, which honestly, I was but in the fragile state I was in I went off the deep end. After yelling and screaming at my parents I ran out of the room and into my safe haven, the bathroom.In the bathroom I cried hysterically and continually slit away at my wrists. My mom maneuvered the door open and she knew something had to be done. She told me I needed to go to the hospital and held me in her arms as they got a taxi to take me to the psych ward at Queens General Hospital which is ironically the same hospital I was born at. The doctor saw my wrists and told me immediately that I was being admitted. She told me to write down all the important numbers that I needed because no phones were allowed in there. I wrote down my best friends numbers and changed into my crazy people outfit and made my way to my room that I would share.

Listen, I know Im crazy but my roommate in the psych ward was insane. Now sis used to talk to herself and have random outbursts where she would just turn all the way up. I remember one night she lost her entire mind and they couldn’t control her. They tried to take her to the quiet room but she wouldn’t go she just kept yelling. I was so tired from all the medicine they gave me. I volunteered my own self for the quiet room. Well, it turns out that the quiet room was the crazy rooms you see in movies. It had padded walls and padded floors and a little window. I layed in there and went right to sleep. The drugs they had me on were superrrr different. It turned me into a zombie and they kept upping my doses until one point I was twitching. I hated the feeling but they watched you take them so you couldn’t not hide them and not take it. I knew I had to ditch that shit as soon as I was out there.

Now psych ward weeks are like jail weeks so its 5 days to a week instead of 7. I stayed there for 10 days. Im not gonna lie though, besides the whole feeling like a zombie and the fact that I was literally in a psych ward. I was living life. I even had a psych ward boo. He was bi polar and schizophrenic though so sometimes he was my boo and sometimes he sometimes he was some other nigga. It depends on what the voices in his head told him. Listen, I was in no position to judge. We had daily activities and even had art time which I gave to my family and friends who visited and lovingly referred to it as crazy bitch art.

I remember one day we got a new guy and that man was like 7 feet tall and maddddd big and brolic. He absolutely scared the shit out of me. So on fridays when we got to play games and we had to choose between uno and monopoly. The instructor had us vote to choose which one we wanted to play. Everybody but the big man raised their hand for uno. He looks at us and all and yells ” Monopoly” in a deep ass voice while hulk slamming the table. Guess what the hell we played? Yep, we sure did play Monopoly. I was not gonna let that man strangle me . Even the instructor played that day.

My mom was literally the biggest angel in my life at this time. She still is. That lady is an amazing woman and she’s literally gods gift to me on Earth. Even though I was absolutely a piece of shit and terror to her. She did anything she could to help me so since I hated the food they served especially because I was on suicide watch so they gave me everything with a spoon. My mom would cook everyday and bring me food so I could have something to eat at least once a day. Damn, she’s a dope ass lady.

I remember when they finally let me out of that place. I immediately stopped taking the medicine. It had me unable to think clearly. I had to learn coping skills because I knew the meds weren’t for me. I know people who do way better on meds and I have nothing against them . They just aren’t for me. I have learned so many ways to cope with my depression and anxiety without them. I allow myself to feel the pain, to revel in it but not for too long. I allow myself to cry and to break down and to yell. Then I work on putting things into perspective. I work on making sense of everything. I work on owning up to my mistakes and forgiving myself for messing up and for still failing sometimes. I look at pictures of moments that made me happy and I realize its just a bad moment and not a bad life I live. All of these things are helping me to become a better person and a better woman each and everyday. The growth I have had in the past few years has been amazing. It definitely didn’t happen overnight and it was a long painful process but it’s also a beautiful one. For any one who has ever suffered from depression and/or is suffering from depression just know its a lifelong process and there will be days you take 10 steps back but keep pushing and I am here if you need me. If you don’t want to talk to me but you need someone to talk to make sure you click the link below .

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

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