My Mental Health Four Years Ago
Remember that NBD accident from Mental Health, Part I? Yeah, it left me pretty screwed up mentally as well as physically. I did a great job of pretending I was okay for awhile, and the panic attacks and obsessive thoughts kept getting worse. I was a mess. And ironically, it took my therapist and I awhile to figure out that I was depressed. Turns out I was so good at faking normal by that point that even in my own head, depression was masked as extreme stress and exhaustion. But when we did finally put a name to that feeling of being constantly overwhelmed and unable to find a way out, things got a lot better. Why?
Medication: Not a Silver Bullet, but Pretty Damn Helpful
I wasn’t in a good place, and I couldn’t get back to normal on my own or with the help of regular therapy. Deciding to go on medication wasn’t easy—it felt like admitting that I had failed. And that’s something that society reaffirms—this idea that you’re weak if your brain chemistry is out of whack. It’s irresponsible and, frankly, absurd to tell people that going for a walk in nature will be better for them than medication. And jokes about people being “bipolar” and “schizophrenic” tell us, subconsciously, that mental illness is something to laugh at and belittle. That the people with those illnesses are “less than.”
People dealing with mental illness have enough on their plate without idiots implying that they’re weak or the butt of a bad joke. Chances are they’re also 10x stronger than those idiots too because they’ve had to deal with real challenges in their life. And those internal challenges? The ones that turn your brain into the enemy? Those make getting hit by a truck seem like a walk in the park. I would know.
Anyway, when I finally got over my own hang-ups about not being perfect at all times, those drugs were the best thing for me. In fact, when I went to my doctor four weeks after starting them, one of the first things I said to her was “I had forgotten what normal felt like.” And oh man, did it feel great.
The Most Important Line in my Budget
I’ve been seeing the same therapist for over 6 years. It’s really pretty fortuitous that I was seeing her for academic stress before my accident because after getting hit by a truck, boy did I have feelings to talk about. And in the last 6 years, having that resource has been vital for me. For the first two and a half years, I was covered by student insurance and didn’t have to worry about the mind-numbing details of insurance coverage.
But once I graduated, I had a miserable job with no benefits and was covered by my mom’s insurance. My mom was halfway across the country and my therapist was considered “out-of-network.” Thankfully, because I had been seeing her for so long, she gave me a “working girls” discount so that I wasn’t stuck paying her full price out of pocket (with a high deductible, getting any insurance help wasn’t feasible). But there was also a time in the middle when I was paying close to full price for our sessions, and I don’t regret that one bit. That’s some of the best money I spent when I was first out of school and still struggling with being a “real adult” while also recovering from the mental and physical trauma of my accident.
Paying for Therapy, and a Caveat
Now, I don’t think I would have spent the money if I didn’t already have a good relationship with my therapist and if I didn’t have some pretty clear stressors in my life that made therapy so necessary. I’ve always been an anxious person, but without the trigger of my accident and some other pretty shitty family drama at the time, I wouldn’t have considered therapy necessary enough to justify continuing to pay for it when I was on such a low income. And I recognize that even with the high costs I paid for awhile, I’m still privileged in that I have access to good mental health resources in my area and savings to cover those expenses until I did get better health insurance. I also don’t want to gloss over the fact that I have a fucking amazing therapist. That hasn’t been true at other points in my life where therapy would have been helpful, and it can be a pretty significant hurdle to find someone you trust enough to discuss really serious issues and feelings with (especially for someone from an emotionally reserved Midwestern family…).
Having her as a resource, as a lifeline, has been so important as I’ve grown and recovered over the past few years. And I credit my time in therapy for helping me be comfortable with standing up for myself, with expressing my feelings in a constructive way, and with setting healthy boundaries in relationships. She has also been immensely helpful more recently as I’ve struggled with being in a professional rut and have started trying to redefine my goals for the future and the steps it will take to get there.
Now that I have good health insurance and benefits, it’s been great to be able to pay for my therapy costs with a Flexible Spending Account (FSA). This is different from an HSA in that I have to state at the beginning of the year how much I want in the account (up to $2500) and have to use it all up (except for a $500 allowable rollover) by the end of the year. The amount comes out of my paycheck in equal increments, tax-free. Which means that when I was paying $100 per session for awhile, the actual cost was closer to $66, which still isn’t great but was a significant savings.
My Mental Health Now
Now, I’ve gone off of the anti-depressants (with doctor supervision), and chose a year afterward to start them again. Maybe I’ll stay on them long-term, or maybe I’ll be able to wean off of them again. Either way, I’m not worried about it. That choice makes my life better, and I know what that total despair feels like—I have no intention of going back.
Being on the medication doesn’t mean I’m never depressed. I still have bad days, or bad weeks if there’s a particular stressor in my life. But usually I can identify that stressor and take other steps to mitigate its effects. I don’t rely solely on medication—it’s one piece of my management strategy for my anxiety and depression. The other pieces include therapy, getting enough exercise and sunlight, calming repetitive activities like yoga or knitting, a strong support network, getting a consistent amount of sleep, and eating well.
I got lucky. Therapy doesn’t work for everyone, and it can be hard to find a therapist who is a good fit. The same is true for medication—I didn’t have to try and reject a bunch of different anti-depressants over a long period before finding an effective one. I’m also financially in a place (and with good health insurance) where I can afford both my medication and regular therapy sessions. There are free and low-cost mental health resources that are more robust in some areas of the country than others. I also love this post by Bitches Get Riches; it’s a fantastic list of mental health self-care tactics (I’m definitely going to implement some of these!).
How Mental Health Affects my Pursuit of Financial Independence
I figure I should probably tie this post back to finances eventually. Which isn’t hard because my mental health is a driver in my pursuit of financial independence. When my job leaves me stressed and burned out, when I’m too depressed to go to work, and when I can’t get excited about the work I’m doing, those are the moments when I really wish I had the freedom to make a different decision. And not in the sense of finding another desk job, but going in a completely different direction. I have no intention of sitting at a desk until I’m 65, but it wasn’t until I found the FIRE Movement that I realized there was a viable alternative that didn’t feel risky and unstable to me. This is something I can handle; it’s a path I can follow and a plan I can manage. And even having that plan and taking action to reach my goal has already made me happier because it’s shown me a way out.