Accepting the fact that I needed medication to assist in the treatment of mental illness was not easy. Confiding in a therapist was equally difficult. The therapeutic relationship itself became an obstacle to progress, largely because I did not initially embrace the process or understand its importance. My primary concern was how long treatment would last. I was focused on when it would be over so I could return to my life. Being a patient was a new and uncomfortable experience, and I resisted both the label and the medication.
At the time, I did not realize that my approach to treatment was ineffective. In hindsight—especially after years of working in clinical settings—it became clear to me that clients must be guided through the treatment process. Treatment should be framed as a wellness agenda, not merely a response to illness. When I finally accepted that my way of dealing with treatment was not working, I recognized that I was heading down a disastrous path. Overcoming my aversion to therapy marked a turning point, and from that moment, my life circumstances began to improve.
After my discharge from Northville State Hospital, I sought treatment at a community mental health center. My first therapist there had an accent, and I came with my own use of Ebonics; communication was difficult, and the relationship did not work. I later sought treatment elsewhere and was again paired with a therapist who had an accent—but this time, we developed a strong rapport. It was at Lafayette Mental Health Center that my life began to change in ways I believe were divinely orchestrated.
My time at Northville State Hospital was especially revealing. I experienced a dramatic shift in levels of care, moving from what felt like a “country club” setting to the lower end of mental health treatment. Through this experience, the Lord showed me what my life could become if I did not change. At the same time, I realized I was not as far gone as I had believed. Most importantly, this period awakened in me a desire to help others living with mental illness.
Years later, I heard a minister say something that deeply resonated with me and reaffirmed my belief that the Creator had ordered my steps. He said that the Lord will put you in a situation, bring you out of it, and then place you back there to help others. My entry into the mental health field began with my own need for healing.
When I started working in mental health, I assumed it would be temporary—perhaps five years. I worked in an excellent setting connected to a university, where the environment was genuinely therapeutic. We spent meaningful time talking with patients, and I participated in team meetings to discuss treatment plans and the overall treatment process.
Regarding therapy, I was fortunate to have had the therapist I did. We met once a week for an hour. He was a young doctor, possibly a resident, and in retrospect, we were likely around the same age. He was amazed by my progress, as was I—especially because I had begun to open up and express myself, something I had been unable to do with my first therapist. Eventually, he recognized that we had reached a stalemate and suggested I seek help elsewhere. At the time, I resisted this idea, believing I would complete the process within a few years.
The relationship I had with that therapist set the tempo and became a model for me. When he moved on to another venue, our work together ended as well. Other therapists were not the same—but neither was I. By then, I had grown more experienced within the mental health system and developed greater insight into managing mental health needs, both from a clinical perspective and from my lived experience as a patient and caregiver.