Mental Health Molasses
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Once I left the group home for good, I walked briskly from Orange Street to Atticus Books on Chapel and back every morning. Challenge yourself David, I whispered, like I was an up-and-coming life-coach practicing a snazzy new mantra. Another current miracle of mine is touching down on July 22 of this summer when Running Wild’s YA LGBTQ+ novel called "Wolf-Boy," a story of fear, confusion, curiosity, uncertainty, recovery; a love story, really is released. 

Another novel called, "End Zone" is due out nine months later on April Fool's Day 2025, also published by Lisa Kastner and Running Wild and RIZE Press out of Los Angeles. That second novel is another YA thriller about secret societies, dark dreams, boy crushes, and toxic masculinity, but also there’s hope and redemption. Let me now slip in one more fact from NAMI that hits hard: Over fifty percent of LGBTQ+ people struggle with a mental illness. 
I was hospitalized at Yale Psychiatric for the first time in eleven years in March of 2016, and it lasted for just two weeks, for clients don’t stay long at hospitals anymore. In the early nineties, though, I had planted myself at the Institute of Living in Hartford for two years plus. My insurance policy and I were like well-meaning dinosaurs lost in a time warp, not sure what to do or whom to be, or even how to heal. I found empathic, talented doctors there that eased me some, offering guidance but I was consistently off-balance and out-of-step with the world. 
Some years later, I was trapped in molasses again, cloaked in shame. I felt I didn’t belong in a hospital or clinic - I had gotten well, I had been cured from all that muck and fuel and rage, right? I mean, isn’t that what’s supposed to happen in successful mental health memoirs? Or at least, the one written by me? But there was no linear path to wellness for David Fitzpatrick because all my trails were ragged, serpentine, and had way too many potholes, almost as bad as the city of New Haven in late February.
What would I say to someone just starting their own mental health journey?
Don’t give up because people do in fact get better. Contact NAMI or Mental Health America or The Trevor Project and use them wisely, for they are a phenomenal collection of caring, skilled folks that can guide you a lot better than some discounted Wal-Mart compass. If you're feelingh suicidal or in crisis, dial 988. My other advice to mentally ill young people is not so radical. I’d recommend dating someone who cannot be found in the DSM-6 or 7 or whatever number it’s on now. Or, at least, that specific move worked well for me and my own miracle wife, Amy.
An early force of wisdom in my life was corny but in the same way a beloved mentor is corny, like how Yoda looks to the universe. I remember my mentor saying we’ll go back to when you were tiny and start in the kitchen sink. We’ll build the baby body back up, make your muscles stronger. We’ll head to the tub from there, before dipping our toes in a kiddie pool, followed by trying out the shallow end, before treading water into deeper sections. Every time we swam, we practiced a variety of strokes; first doggie paddle, followed by the crawl, free-style, and eventually the butterfly and backstroke. 
It took me a decade and hard change before I found myself at sea again with the rest of humanity, keeping my eyes peeled for those toxic sharks on land and in the ocean. Yes, it was stressful in the Long Island Sound, but it felt so damn good to be doing well and succeeding among the living. I’d recommend asking for help when you feel spent or crumpled; try to be kind to yourself, as well, not an easy task, I know. Progress is two steps up, one step back and changing our lives doesn’t happen overnight. Be patient.