THE SUN WILL COME OUT

The first time I can think back to and realized I was experiencing depression was after my mother died. I
was about to turn 10 years old. The world became a scary place without her. The days were long and
dreary. Nothing interested me anymore. My beloved yellow banana bicycle now laid in the yard rusting.
The bicycle that my mother said I would ride all day. Not wanting to eat, watch television or sleep. I
outgrew my clothes due to weight gain from not being active. The nightmares were awful. My young
brain was just trying to figure out where my mother was.

I needed someone to talk to about my mother’s death. My father and I lived alone together for several
months. He started drinking heavily and staying out at bars all hours of the night. So he was not
emotionally available. Neither was the family I was close to. Death wasn’t something to be talked about.
My father eventually got caught drunk driving. This was not his first arrest for DUI. In the end he decided
to run from the law and basically abandoned me.

I was left to live with my maternal aunt, her son and my grandmother. Just another dysfunctional
household. Of course my depression worsened. Crying myself to sleep countless nights hoping God
would call me home. I tried reaching out to my aunt. Telling her I didn’t want to live anymore. She told
me it was the cowards way out and that was all that ever came of it. I lived in this household about 5 or
6 years. During my stay I tried reaching out to a counselor. She asked me do you have food to eat? I said
yes. Even though we only ate once a day. Then she asked do you have clothes? Of course I said yes.
Lastly she asked do you have a roof over your head. Yet another yes. So I knew this was going to lead me
to no where land. Things transpired and I moved in with another maternal aunt and her husband.

Guess what? Yet another dysfunctional home. By this time I was driving. Some how I wound up going to
a psychiatrist on my own. All the stress and depression was nearly too much to bear anymore. The
psychiatrist wanted me to go into the hospital. I said why? I would just go back to what is causing me to
be miserable again. She prescribed some meds. Honestly I don’t think I even tried them. I talked to my
aunt and uncle about my appointment. My memory is fuzzy sometimes. I don’t remember what was
said but know I never went back. After graduating high school I moved out on my own.

The depression lifted for awhile. I got a decent job. Things were going ok. Then a major life stressor hit. I
was sent into a tail spin. Racing thoughts, feeling depressed yet feel like making laps around the yard.
Sleeping was hard. Had a hard time falling asleep but when it was time to wake up it was hard. So I set
out to see my trusted general practitioner. He actually listened and asked if I had ever heard of bipolar
disorder. I had never heard of that diagnosis before. I was scared but yet relieved I had an answer. He
advised me to seek out a psychiatrist. Phew, was that a task. So many came and went. So many different
medications. Ugh the side effects. Finally I met the Psychiatrist that would help me change my life. We
worked together finding the right meds. She let me know that I did have bipolar disorder and psychosis.
I stopped drinking alcohol and started exercising regularly. That along with medication really helped the
depression. Came across a great counselor. That helped me greatly. The sun came out. Colors were
brighter. Seems the birds were louder. Things were looking up.

Now here I am at 52. I obtained an A.S. degree. I am now a Certified Peer Support Specialist. At a good
base line in my recovery. I am living proof that recovery is possible. The important thing is to have hope
that things will get better. In the end I hope sharing my story helps at least one person.
Melissa Wells

Certified Peer Support Specialist

What is a Certified Peer Support Specialist? A CPSS is someone in recovery

from a mental illness and/or substance abuse disorder. They provide
support to others with mental illness and/or substance abuse disorder.
In North Carolina you must be in recovery for one year before becoming a
CPSS. You must be at least 18 years old. Must have a high school diploma or
equivalent. To become certified you must take an approved 40 hour Peer
Support training class. You must also take a 20 our class. Classes like
Wellness Recovery Action Plan, person centered thinking, crisis prevention
to list a few. Proof of education. Two personal reference forms which are
included in the CPSS application form. You must provided a cashiers check
or money order for 20.00 with the application forms. Visit the website
pss.unc.edu for more information and an application form. Approved
listings of classes and CPSS jobs are also on the website . You must take a
20 hour class for recertification every two years.
I am a CPSS. I enjoyed the classes that I took. Got to meet some very nice
instructors and other peers. My 40 hour class was given by Pamela Goodine
in Winston-Salem. I took a Wellness Recovery Action Plan class for my extra
20 hours. That class was given by Susan Wheeler at Forsyth Mental Health
Association. Last I heard they were revamping the book used for the 40
hour training course. I do not have a date as to when that will be
completed. So those classes are on hold for now.
Melissa Wells