THE RABBIT HOLE
Five years ago yesterday, I created this illustration. Unbeknownst to me at the time, within days, a mix-up at the pharmacy would take me down the rabbit hole.
For many years, I was on a psychiatric medication that caused Parkinsonism—a side effect that mimics the symptoms of Parkinson’s Disease, which can become permanent. For me, it manifested as a terrible tremor, muscle spasms, and stiffness.
At the end of November 2019, a pharmacy mix-up led to me being prescribed another medication that interacted with the one causing Parkinsonism. Overnight, I lost my ability to walk, which lasted for a month. In response, I leaned more heavily on marijuana, which I had already been using daily to manage the symptoms of Parkinsonism. Marijuana, in turn, became my doorway into Wonderland—a surreal and transformative state that reshaped my perception of reality.
THE DARKEST HOUR
I often refer to this time as the “2019 to 2021 psychosis.” To this day, I see it as one of the most transformative periods of my life. As painful as it was, it was also breathtaking. It was the most incredible experience I’ve ever had the joy to live through—until I crash-landed back into reality when I was detained under British Columbia, Canada’s Mental Health Act from February 2021 until May of 2022.
Ultimately, the entirety of this journey, including my detainment, led me to where I am today: off all drugs (marijuana included), alcohol (which is also a drug), a slew of other negative coping mechanisms, and all psychiatric medications.
I’m doing the best I’ve ever been, but wow, did I crawl through the bowels of hell to get here. I lost myself along the way but I found my soul. I uncovered my purpose and values. In the darkest of places, I found the light.
RECKONING WITH MYSELF
When I entered psychiatry at age 15, I was experiencing homelessness. I was heavily addicted to drugs and alcohol, as I didn’t know how to cope with my big emotions. I was told I was sick, that I would always be sick—that it was genetics and brain chemistry. I was told that while medication might help manage the symptoms, I would never heal.
My now ex-fiancé is featured in this illustration. He was 23 years older than me. He had been raised in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (aka Mormons), a faith I became quite familiar with in my early 20s while seeking connection with peers who didn’t use drugs nor drink.
He offered me a home and financial security. He believed in and nurtured my spiritual gifts. He taught me about gut health—a lesson for which I’ll always be grateful. Most importantly, he believed I could heal, that my diagnosis of bipolar disorder didn’t have to be a life sentence.
When my legs regained strength in January 2020, I chose to walk away from him. In doing so, I broke his heart. Yet, despite this, he still supported my journey of faith. He taught me that real love is wanting someone to experience happiness—even if it’s not with you. It’s a lesson that has stayed with me.
A few years later, I learned that my leaving shattered him, but that heartbreak also opened his heart in ways it hadn’t been opened in before. That opening led him to meet his current wife.
Although he and I remain on good terms, we don’t talk much as there’s no need to. I’m blessed, however, to still be in contact with his now 15-year-old son, his son’s mom, and many of his other family members.
SEEKING CONNECTION IN UNEXPECTED PLACES
I believe, to this day, that the 2019 to 2021 psychosis was a spiritual awakening. I faced the demons and ghosts that had previously haunted me. I made peace with the darkness. I learned that night is as essential as day—that rain and storms are as necessary as gentle breezes and sunshine.
Wonderland taught me the true abilities of the mind and how our thoughts shape our perception of reality. I learned that believing I can heal doesn’t guarantee I can, however believing I can’t ensures that I won’t.
I’ve made some incredibly hard decisions to be where I am today—earth-shattering choices that uprooted my very foundation. When I left my fiancé, I walked away from financial security back into poverty. It was not an easy choice to make. I found myself falling into debt.
Because I fell ill when I was so young, I have little education, limited work experience, and few monetizable skills (despite my numerous successes, there’s been no money in the arts). I decided to rejoin the sex trade, signing myself up to be a Sugar Baby. I saw it as an opportunity to offer intimacy as therapy.
I only had one encounter before the pandemic broke out, as I quickly realized it wasn’t aligned with my values.
I learned from a friend (Rest in Peace, Beautiful) that some men may never experience intimate touch unless they pay for it. She was an advocate for sex workers and helped me see the deeply human side of this work.
During my brief experience, I spent most of my time cuddling my client and listening to him talk about his sex addiction. It was a deeply human moment that shaped my understanding of this stigmatized trade.
THE TURNING POINT
I wouldn’t be where I am today without my ex-fiancé’s guidance and support. But I also wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t left him. I needed to get off the drugs and alcohol, which I don’t believe would have been possible if I had stayed.
I needed to learn to love, respect, and care for myself. I needed to discover my values and passions. For someone who doesn’t consider themselves to be a people person, I sure seem to care deeply about other people (and all life on this planet).
FINDING THE LIGHT
In the darkness, I found the light. I found hope—and not just for me, but for all of us.
I’m happy to say that Wonderland is alive and well. Over the past year especially, I’ve learned to navigate the spiritual realm while staying rooted in what I call “shared reality.”
I’ve learned to be like a tree. My roots run deep into the earth; my core is sturdy, but my branches can bend and sway. My leaves draw in nourishment from the light, which becomes a part of my bark and sap. That light now glows within every new ring being born inside me.
I know times feel scary for many right now, but I have confidence that big changes are coming—for the better.
This has been a favourite quote of mine all year:
“Good things are on their way; it’s too late to stop it now.”
~Unknown
My journey through hell led me to find the light. If you’re finding yourself in hell right now, remember: The way out is through. Please keep going. ❤️ I wish love, peace, and healing to you all. 🫂
This illustration reminds me of how far I’ve come (in the last five years alone) and how art continues to light the way. 🕯️✨
Art (November 24, 2019) and Blog (November 25, 2024) by Amy Frank
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