My name is Justin Hayes. I was diagnosed with Major Depression and Generalized Anxiety Disorder almost 3 years ago. Before then, I took my mental health for granted and didn't want to believe I had mental illnesses due to a variety of reasons. But in November 2017 I was faced with the reality that either I accept treatment for my newly diagnosed mental illnesses or the reality I may not have made it. Since then, on my path of recovery which includes earning certification in Mental Health First Aid, I have accepted my mental illnesses, the continued professional help and the platform to help others in any way that I can. One way I am helping others is through the autobiography of my mental health and mental illnesses journey found here titled 'Prescription for Living.' 3 years ago I faced an uncertain future. Now the only uncertainty is how many people I am going to be able to help.
Please join me in sharing my message of hope and inspiration.
Option 1: Immediate release to face an uncertain future the second I cleared the heavy industrial glass doors of the hospital.
Option 2: Voluntarily admit myself into a psych ward for an unspecified length of time to begin the treatment for my newly diagnosed mental illnesses.
It was after midnight on November 10th, 2017 in the Akron General Hospital Emergency Room where I, next to my new wife of just six short months, was presented two terrifying options that, no matter which one I chose, would alter the course of my life forever. I was being forced to choose between a path of uncertainty, or a path of uncertainty with professional guidance; like that was any better. Like they knew me and what I was going through. My personal nightmare I’ve been living for years, a story that they had literally just become main characters in. Perhaps more accurately, do I simply accept responsibility and own what was happening to me, or try to ignore it and hope to God I don’t end up right here in a hospital gown once again?
Clearly this was a life-treating time for me, which had only intensified to an overpowering level in the last few months. Leading up to that dreaded day in November 2017, the magnitude of the situation, albeit invisible, still was able to engulf anything else in my life. No manual or “self-help” guidebook could inform my next step here. Until that exact moment in time, I was my own hero. I firmly believed that I could correct any situation that had gone awry. I could solve any problem, based on the facts of a life lived, up until that point. Rooted in what I knew, I could help myself in a way that nobody else could. And so, this one time, I quieted my mind, my bullheadedness, my hardened heart, my ego trying to push its way through and dominate yet another situation. I listened. In the stillness of the sterile room, between my shallow breaths and everyone’s steady eyes on mine, I accepted that I wasn’t ready to die. I finally accepted that I needed help. I chose the second option.
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