Growing up as a child, I learned firsthand what it was like to have a parent experience a severe mental health crisis. I was probably 9 or 10 years old when my father had his first panic attack. At the time I had no idea what was happening, but I knew my father was in serious distress. More than once we raced to the hospital as my father believed he was experiencing cardiac arrest. Numerous tests revealed that his heart was in excellent condition, but the racing of the heart, the shallow breathing, and the feelings of loss of control and sheer panic were something much more debilitating.
The attacks became more frequent, and I remember vividly my father sitting in a chair, holding a paper sack to his mouth as he tried to control his breathing. My father tried numerous medications from his physician. For years he was prescribed a very high dose of Xanax and later Klonopin, both benzodiazepines. Although these medicines work well in producing sedation and alleviating anxiety, these medicines are extremely addictive with long-term use and can be difficult to discontinue.
Matters became increasingly serious when my father began using alcohol to calm his anxiety. Benzodiazepines, mixed with alcohol, is a dangerous combination since they both slow down the central nervous system, leading to drowsiness and impairment and even slowing one’s breathing down to life-threatening levels. Finding my father passed out in the hallway, learning that he was in a hit-and-run accident with no memory of the event, made me realize the level of distress my father was in at the time. We even had to go to the emergency room when he intentionally took a large number of pills with alcohol to end his life and stop his emotional misery. My family lived through all of this. It was quite traumatic and my traveling to Tennessee for college was one means of escape from chaos.
I was in my senior year at Freed-Hardeman when my father went into rehab and finally experienced sobriety for the first time in many years. Today, some 37 years later, my father is still sober and in much more control of his anxiety than ever before. Today, we have a healthy relationship, and I can see how these experiences while growing up helped me to be more understanding of mental illness and how it impacts the individual and the entire family.
For men, societal pressures of being strong and a leader can make it a challenge for many of us to acknowledge that we need help. Sometimes, that help can come from strengthening our relationship with God and spending time in the Bible and in prayer. There are times, though, when we need professional help – someone to talk to about our struggles. I have learned that there is even a place for appropriate medication when properly administered.
What we need to avoid when we are struggling with any type of mental or emotional illness is to isolate ourselves because this often leads to further despair. For many, this can also lead to self-medicating with alcohol and/or drugs, a deadly combination. For men, let us not be too proud to admit that we need help. Acknowledging a problem is the first step to recovery and a healthier life.
