Mental Health Care in America

I am trying to find motivation and focus, but they elude me. It's part of my condition, though it's difficult to grasp if you don't experience it. Even I struggle to comprehend it. However, I prefer dealing with the lack of motivation and focus over the alternative. Bipolar disorder is challenging. It's tough to achieve the right balance. The right mix of medications, diet, vitamins, activity, sleep, therapy—it's overwhelming. I suppose I can't expect others to understand. If you've never known someone with mental illness, you wouldn't realize how devastating and debilitating it is.

This is why I'm terrified for mental health care in the US, almost as much as I'm afraid of flying. It was frightening before, but now people are dying. I'm one of the fortunate ones. I have a job, health insurance, and I can mostly afford my copays. Without medical intervention, I might not be alive, and my family can confirm that. Due to the lack of mental health care, I went undiagnosed for three years. During that time, my actions during a manic psychosis completely destroyed my life as I knew it. People thought I had just changed, but I was actually in the early stages of mania. My mania quickly escalated into full psychosis, of which I remember little. I emerged from my stupor after medical intervention to find myself jobless, nearly homeless, without family, and far from everything familiar. Everything I knew about myself. How does one recover from that? I managed to, but not without significant loss.

Politics isn't sexy, but it's all that is on my mind. The intricate web of policies, decisions, and legislative actions that shape our lives may not have the allure of glitzy headlines or celebrity gossip, yet they hold profound implications for our daily existence, especially in the realm o

f health care. I find myself increasingly concerned about the trajectory of the current administration regarding health care, with a particular focus on mental health services. This is not merely an abstract concern; it strikes at the very heart of the well-being of countless individuals who depend on these services for their quality of life.

Access to care is a labyrinthine challenge for many, even for those who have insurance and the financial means to seek treatment. The barriers are numerous and often insurmountable. Long wait times for appointments, high out-of-pocket costs, and the stigma surrounding mental health issues all contribute to a landscape where seeking help can feel like an uphill battle. But what happens when a major illness—be it physical or mental—strips away the insurance coverage and financial stability that many take for granted? The reality is that a significant portion of the population could find themselves adrift in a system that is already strained and under-resourced, facing the terrifying possibility of being unable to access the care they so desperately need.

Adding to my anxiety is the current head of Health and Human Services, who has raised doubts about the addictive nature of selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs), a class of medications that millions rely on for managing depression and anxiety. This questioning comes at a time when the dialogue surrounding mental health is already fraught with misunderstanding and misinformation. If the very leader responsible for overseeing health care policies is casting doubt on the safety and efficacy of these essential medications, what message does that send to the public? It raises the alarming prospect that the millions of individuals who depend on mental health care medications could be at risk—not only of losing access to their treatments but also of facing increased stigma and confusion about their conditions.

Something needs to change. I don't know what the answer is, but I think the first step is awareness and advocacy.