No One is a Lost Cause

     My mom and I were talking about my mental health recently. My mom usually says something like, "I wish you would have told me that you thought you needed a doctor." Or, "I wish you would have told me what was happening instead of hiding it so I could have gotten you counseling." She seems to not understand how deeply terrified I was of my own mind at the time it all started and for years after. Looking back, I wish I would have just told her what was happening because if I had, I would be in a completely different place mentally than I am right now.
     I know it doesn't make sense that I wouldn't seek help to most people who have been to therapy for something or who have never struggled with a mental health condition. I also know I only did more damage to myself by not seeking help. I had always been pro-counseling. I even suggested that other people get counseling when they felt like something wasn't quite right.
     When it came to myself and the type of OCD I was (unknowingly) dealing with and the thoughts I kept hearing in my mind, I just couldn't seek help. I felt like no one could help me. I thought whatever was happening inside my mind was my fault, like I had opened the door and let the bad things in, and that no form of modern medicine or therapy would be able to silence the demons I had accidently welcomed into my life. I didn't even think my problem was a mental one. I thought it was a soul problem.
     My mom, throughout my repeated episodes of the worst of the Pure O, asked me, "Why don't you let me make you an appointment for counseling?" She even asked that in my 2015 episode, and I rejected the idea. My primary care physician mentioned therapy for the panic attacks, and I struggled with the idea of therapy for weeks before I finally gave in. (I still have no idea what my mom picked up on to make her realize that something was wrong because I thought I was hiding it pretty well.)
     So, why didn't I just wise up and go sooner? Because I thought I needed an exorcism instead of therapy. My second worst fear regarding asking for help was that I would just be locked away somewhere because I was too dark and evil to be among the rest of humanity. I literally went to my intake appointment at the community mental health organization sure the therapist would turn me away or use some sort of code phrase to signal that I should be taken somewhere without even getting to say goodbye to my mom and my cat, because the therapist wouldn't know how to help someone in my position.
     I felt like I was unable to be helped or saved. I felt like no one in the world would be able to make me less broken or to fix me. I was even pretty sure whatever demon had attached itself to my soul wouldn't be touched by the exorcism because maybe I didn't have enough faith to be able to shake it (since no amount of prayer, hymn singing, church attendance, or Bible reading had taken away the bad thoughts). If I was insane (which I also thought was a reasonable assumption), I thought I was so far gone down the path of insanity that no amount of therapy or medication would be able to bring me back to myself. I thought I was a lost cause, and I was afraid that asking for help would only validate that idea for me.
     When I finally opened up, I was shocked that my mom didn't recoil in horror or disgust. She just basically said, "It's anxiety. Sometimes stuff like that happens to me, too. You just need some medication and/or therapy." My primary care physician had nearly the same reaction as my mother. Then my therapist was completely un-phased by the things I told her. She basically said, "You are definitely not the worst case I have seen, and I can totally treat you as an outpatient. This is a real mental health condition, and it is treatable." She even promised that no one would perform an exorcism, as did my priest, because no one thought I was evil or possessed.
     All the ideas and the fear that I felt kept me from seeking help were also just part of the disorder I was dealing with. They were also due in large part to the fact that I didn't understand anything that was happening (which would have been cleared up if I had just talked to my mom). I did a lot of research (and I still do lots of research) just to understand more about therapy, things that help, and my own disorder. It also turned out that I wasn't a lost cause. That realization brought me tears of joy.
     I'll end with this: No matter what kind of mental health condition you are dealing with, be it OCD or any of the OCD subtypes, Anxiety Disorders, Depression, PTSD, Bipolar Disorder, Schizophrenia,  Eating Disorders, or Personality Disorders, or anything in between YOU ARE NOT A LOST CAUSE. YOU ARE NEVER A LOST CAUSE. It is never too late to seek help. The right kind of help for whatever is happening in your mind is out there (whether you choose a free App for your phone, the clergy, a crisis line, or face-to-face counseling...it's out there). I repeat: NO ONE IS EVER A LOST CAUSE.