Gratitude into the Future

Thoughts on Mental Health Thursday

September is National Suicide Prevention Month.

I’ve written extensively about my mental health. There’s so much that people don’t understand about people with mental health issues and I’ve made it my personal mission to share my story and experience so that more people will know what it’s like for people who are suffering and I want the people who are suffering to know that it does get better.

I was never suicidal. However, had my doctor not come up with a last resort solution when I was at the lowest, most desperate point of self-harm, I whole-heartedly believe I would have gotten worse and possibly considered suicide. Nothing was working up to that point. I had been hospitalized, I had been medicated–with a whole variety of medicines–, I had been to therapy and a whole host of doctors, and yet, I still suffered. And that was even with the doctor with the miracle solution. I had been a patient of Dr. Simpson’s for at least a year before he finally demanded I take a semester off of school and have ECT treatments. I’ve said it before and I will continue to say it, those treatments saved my life.

Now that I’m in a place in life where my mental health is the best it has ever been in my entire life, I’m circling back to the doctor who made it possible. I’ve written before about finding Dr. Simpson’s new practice. Well, “new” in that it’s new to me. He closed his private practice at least 20 years ago. The local hospital system was trying to incorporate him into their system and he wasn’t having that. So he closed it down. I assumed he would retire, he seemed old even back then. But he didn’t apparently. From what Google tells me, he is a substance abuse counselor in the town I lived in when I was in high school. Ironically, that town is where my childhood trauma originated.

I have been meaning to write him a letter to say thank you. I’ve talked about him so much that I feel like I need to not only share that it was a doctor and his life-changing solution that helped me get to where I am now, but I also need to share with him how much he changed my life. Though I know he knew. Even back then. When he closed his practice and had his final appointment with me, he said I was the last person he worried about with his practice closing. As in, he didn’t worry about me much at all. He knew I was better and he knew I would be ok without him. And so I was.

Now that my writing class is officially finished–got feedback on my final assignment today–it’s time for me to focus on my writing again. I mean, that’s what I was doing in the class, but now I want to focus on writing essays and getting them published. And working on my book. Since I still want my focus to be mental health, I figured I should reach out to Dr. Simpson before it’s too late. Like I said, he seemed old even 20 years ago. I don’t want to miss my chance for him to know how much I appreciate him.

So, I’ve got the letter all stuffed in the addressed envelope with the Betty White stamp. I’ll drop it at the post office tomorrow. I included my email address in the letter in case it’s easier for him to reply that way. That is, if he chooses to reply, which I hope he will.

I’ll let you all know if I hear anything back. Fingers crossed.