Yesterday I finished watching a great documentary about Michelle McNamara, late wife of Patton Oswalt, who posthumously published a book and a 5 series documentary titled I’ll be Gone in The Dark. I stumbled upon this documentary in my quest for all things true crime, specific serial killers. I can’t tell you why, but before it was even “cool” to be a true crime junkie, I was ALWAYS fascinated with the workings of the human brain, specifically brains that were so depraved that they took others’ lives repeatedly and horrifically. I know this sounds crude, but I know I’m not alone….case in point–Michelle McNamara.
Michelle McNamara had her own blog and podcast, True Crime Diary, and through her years of dabbling as a true crime sleuth, she stumbled upon the case of the East Area Rapist/Original Night Stalker that taunted California in the late 70’s and early 80’s. As she began to investigate EAR/ONS she began to fall into an abyss so large, so dark, and so daunting, that she knew she just had to find this man and had to publish a book about all of his terror and damage.
Though I chose to watch to get my true crime fix, what I ended up watching was a very thought provoking documentary that was also about slipping into mental illness so quickly and so easily. As Michelle pursued her research, which ultimately aided in the April 24, 2018 arrest of the Golden State Killer (EAR/ONS), Joseph James D’Angelo, she sunk deeper and darker into anxiety and depression, self medicating with opiates, benzo’s, uppers, etc. As you watch this, you think to yourself…hmmmm….she seems OK”. Wow…writing a bookd is HARD! Her family seems to think she’s ok. Maybe she needs a pick me up. Looks like she has this under control. Soon you quickly realize, all of that means nothing as this beautiful mind, mother, wife, amazing writer, and true crime pioneer, accidentally overdoses in April of 2016, in what I interpreted as a victim of yet another mental illness.
The credits to the documentary rolled, I shut off my TV, and I sat there for a moment contemplating what I had just watched. This woman–a civilian crime detective–essentially propelled this case back in to the spotlight and “solved” one of California’s coldest cases. As she spent hours and hours relentlessly pouring over crime scene photos, talking to victims, scouring the internet, and interviewing detectives the darkness and horror of these crimes invaded her. Patton talked candidly about her still very much maintaing her role of an involved motherr and loving wife. As an occiaisonal blog writer, I can’t even begin to contemplate the hours that Michelle put into her research and book, coupled with the gruesome content that she consumed. The pressure was immense- and even though she had an incredible support system, she found her self leaning on adderol, benzos and the like to get her through.
But, what sacred me the most, was the darkness underneath–gone undetectd by her, her family, and her closest confidant and friends. Essentially she was “fine”–stressed about her book deadlines–but “fine”. This made me think of all of the times I felt down trodden, ridden with anxiety and told myself, I’m fine–you can’t be 100% everyday. To some extent, I guess that is true. We can always be 100% on top of the world. Emotions are normal–depression, anger, anxiety…those things are all a part of the human experience. It is when they invade our true being that we need to take a long hard look. When we fall into self medication, self destrutive habits, or destroy relationships, people must ask…WHAT IS GOING ON?!?!? BUT–after watching this, a woman with incredible support, financial security, a promise of a book deal, I thought –well, that could be me.
I’ve talked time and again about the importance of mental health. May being, Mental Health Awareness Month, seemed like the perfect time for me to fall upon the story of Michelle McNamara. In the series, Michelle’s siblings talk about Michelle’s late mother and her own struggle with depression. As I watched and listened to the many poignant journal entries that Michelle wrote, it was obvious that aside from never really healing from a post college sexual assault from a former employer, she suffered, too, from depression and perhaps, anxiety. Once again, there was a part of me that lived within her.
My son was born in 2006, and after a 5 day hospital stay because of complications, I came home and retreated deeper and deeper into my house. I was interested in NOTHING but my son. I’d nurse him on my chair, change him, play with him, clean my house, and cook dinner, but I NEVER wanted to leave the confines of my home. You might be saying–so what that is what new moms do, but not this new mom. I would not leave unless my bestfriend drove down to my house, said, “let’s go!” and went with me to the market, Target, or even for a walk outside. My mom came over and did the same. When I did leave I thought for sure that my heart was going to pound right through my ribs out of my chest! I was convinced that I was short of breath with every step I took…. Yet, they wouldn’t let me retreat. Now I understand, as they did then, that I was suffering post-partum depression. Though relatively short lived, the anxiety that I also felt never went away. I started being social again, going out, and even feeling”normal”; but, there was always this big elephant on my chest who NEVER seemed to get off!
It wasn’t until after Maddie, my second child was born, that I was seeking counseling for the first time in my life. My parents were going through a divorce, and though over 30 years old myself, being caught in the middle felt awful. After several sessions of counseling my therapist suggested that I see the psychiatrist becasue she and I both agreed I probably had a classic case of generalized anxiety.
5mg of Lexapro, a lot of counseling, and even more self-relflection I FINALLY knew what it meant to feel “normal”! When I thought back, I suspect that I suffered from anxiety even as a kid, but I just learned to deal with it. However, after the changes my body went through in pregnancy, there was NO IGNORING this beast! And a beast it was!
The most intersting thing about anxiety is that it can be difficult to treat, especially in someone like me who had anxiety about taking medication. I’ll never forget the day that I finally decided to fill my prescription. My sister was at my house and JT was sitting in his high chair eating a muffin. Being a typical 3 year old, he crushed every bit of that muffin and threw it all over my floor. I BALKED!!! Thank GOD my sister was there. She calmly said, “JT, mommy isn’t feeling well right now. Can you help auntie and get the dust pan and brush to clean up this mess while I talk to mommy.” We then had a heart to heart.
Gina, too, had been going to therapy and had some years ago been diagnosed with depression. She had walked the road and basically what she said to me is that once you are on the other side of this you will NEVER look back. She held the proverbial mirror in front of my face and made me take a look at what was occuring. I took my meds, and from that day forward finally felt free.
Counsling, therapy, and even sometimes medication are all there to help us treat our brain when it isn’t working well. If it were the heart or lungs, no questions would be asked, and treatment would begin immediately! Yet when you put the word mental in front of the world illness, people pause. Mental health matters!!!
I share my story, and Michelle McNamara’s story, and even small tidbits of my sister’s story, to tell you that everywhere you look there is someone who might be suffering inside. I know that for me, it was helpful to know that someone had walked in similar shoes to mine. That is why I share my struggle with anxiety. Somedays it rears its ugly head and I’m bitchy and full of restless energy. Most days, it is under control, but I know that I am not alone. I have resources and help. Unfortunately that same resources are always available to everyone.
As a country we MUST prioritize mental health. All too often we turn our mentally ill to the streets or into prisons, when instead with treatment we can help people to be productive parts of society. It is so much easier to complain about “others”, but if you are being honest about what separates you from “them” is that YOU have health insurance and can get help if you choose. All of our citizens should have access to mental health services.
I know how horrible I felt with my barely diagnosable mental health issue. I can’t even begin to think of the torture that those with pervasive issues feel. Even more, imagine feeling so much pain that you self medicate, harm and murder other or commit suicide. NO person deserves that pain! I believe that even the gruesome rapes and murders of Joseph D’Angelo may have been avoided had he many years prior addressed the mental illnesses and years of abuse he suffered. Think of all the lives saved….
Mental health matters. Mental health will always matter!
All 4'7" of me 