Learn / Advancing Hope, Advocacy, and Recovery with Andrea Mora
Key Points
Hey you! I’m Andrea Mora, your friendly neighborhood expert in lived experience with mental illness and substance abuse, and I’d love to share some of my recovery story with you.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in these contributions are those of the individual authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of Recovery.com.
Content Warning: This article includes details of a mental health crisis and self-harm.
My story starts before my diagnosis, as my first mental health crisis was in 2012. In October of that year, I was hospitalized due to a severe manic episode. We didn’t know what was happening at the time, and just chalked it up to “Andreaness”. What I mean by that is, I had always been a little wild in my adult life. I loved singing karaoke, and of course that was accompanied by lots of alcohol and erratic behavior. That night, however, was a whole different ball of wax.
Essentially, I became so inebriated I couldn’t see straight. I even ordered pizza, with the most random and awful topping combinations, according to my husband. It was all fun and games and lots of “Andreaness”, until it was time for bed. I didn’t want to go to bed, as I felt on top of the world, but also very anxious. Naturally, I took 5 or 6 benzodiazepines, which ooh golly, not a good idea. In addition to all of my erratic behavior, I also experienced psychosis during this manic episode, so much so that I even licked my washing machine. Say WHAT!? I can laugh about it now, but it was truly awful to recollect at the time.
During this mental health event, I cut my wrists, flatlined on my bathroom floor and when I was resuscitated, I ran outside completely nude, around my yard. All of this happening with my kids sleeping upstairs. My next memory is waking up in the ER with a police officer sitting in my room, never taking his eyes off me. Ultimately, my husband was given two choices: jail or the mental hospital. He chose the mental hospital as I wasn’t a criminal….yet.
I spent the weekend at the hospital, but was never assessed by a provider. I was released the following Monday afternoon, and it was never spoken of again. That is, until the next manic episode happened in 2013. In between these timeframes, I was still binge drinking, essentially self-medicating as my moods were all over the place. During this time, I was irrational, elated, euphoric, irritable and hyper-sexual, with incredibly poor decisions made with feelings like I was untouchable. It was during that extended manic episode that I received my diagnosis. It didn’t come soon enough though, as I committed a financial crime during my mania as well, which is ultimately what led me on a path to recovery.
It took over four years of being mis-medicated and mistreated by a psychiatric provider before the time would come that my life felt saved. For many, finding a provider takes too much time, and to finally get an appointment takes even longer. I was so incredibly fortunate to find a new psychiatric provider within 2 weeks of deciding I needed a second opinion for management of my illness, and that is where everything started to turn around for me. This was at the end of 2017.
During those four terrible years after diagnosis, my drinking was out of control, I couldn’t get a good job due to my convictions, and the crappy jobs I could get I was unable to hold on to thanks to my uncontrolled Bipolar Disorder, and I had gained 90 pounds, partially due to the meds I was on and the other part due to me using food and substances to try and cope with my issues.
Enter the psychiatric provider that saved my life in so many ways. She was a prior ER nurse who changed career paths to psychiatry, and she was everything I needed and more. I realized I had spent five years of my life living in a way I didn’t need to, miserable, a full-blown alcoholic, still having major episodes of mania and depression and destroying my family during that time. All those years, gone. Gone from happiness, from stability, from recovery. Those golden words, recovery. It is what we all strive for when living with adversity and illness, and finally, I was on my way.
We found the right cocktail of meds, the right therapy modalities and I got sober on April 17th, 2018. Side note: There is such a stigma about taking meds, and I will shout it from the rooftops that it is essential and acceptable and I would not be here without them. And by cocktail, I mean a juicy one. I currently still take most of those same meds, which totals 7. I have no shame or embarrassment about this. If it kept me stable, I would take 100. Sure, they come with some side effects, but nothing compares to what my mania or depression would look like without them. There’s my little PSA about meds. #endthestigma
My medication regimen, my sobriety and intensive therapy, especially EMDR, was the trifecta I needed to get my mental illness in a controlled state, which allowed me to move into a place of recovery. This was a new journey for me, so different from the journey I had been on the six years prior. I was able to finally breathe again. To enjoy things again.
Singing was such an important part of my life growing up and through my adulthood, and from 2014 to 2018, I shut music out of my life. Songs would come on that instantly triggered me into a panic attack. I felt all the shame and guilt come back to me when I would sing, as for so many years singing meant drinking which meant horrible behaviors and decisions. Even in the car, the radio would be off. I just couldn’t bring myself to feel that joy. But the joy was back.
In addition to my journey of sobriety and mental stability, I started on a weight loss journey as well. Remember the 90 pounds I had gained? Lost ‘em! I lost 105 pounds between 2019 and 2020, so not only was I sober, stable and healthy, I was a SNACK!
There have been unexpected episodes with my mental illness during these last 6 years, and I used to be riddled with anxiety waiting for the other shoe to drop, every day. Therapy helped me realize I can’t live that way. I can’t focus on the past and I can’t control the future, all I can do is live in the now and tackle whatever comes, whenever it comes.
My family is still on this wacky ride with me, they never gave up on me, and that brings tears to my eyes as I write this. My husband, Michael, and I are celebrating our 24th wedding anniversary on Halloween, I have my 3 beautiful girls by my side, and I am absolutely blessed to the core to have two new loves, my grandbabies. I have been through hell and back in my 42 years, but I am proof that recovery is possible. No matter what you’re struggling with, you have it within you to cope, to thrive, to heal. And always remember, you are not alone on your journey.
Author Bio:
A little about me, I am currently Board President of my local NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) affiliate and Co-Chair of the Alliance for Mental Wellness Employee Resource Group at Renaissance Learning. I chose passion in all things, and one of those passions is mental health support, education and advocacy. My personal mission lines up with the NAMI mission, which is proving to be the perfect blending. I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder Type I in 2013, and boy has it been a wild ride. I am also a wife, mom and grandma and without a doubt, laughing is my most favorite thing to do.
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