TRAUMA MENTAL HEALTH AND ADDICTION: TRUTHS THEY DON'T TEACH IN TEXTBOOKS

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Addiction Is a Symptom — Not a Sin

Addiction isn’t a moral failing. It isn’t a weakness, it isn't a crime, and it damn sure isn’t a choice.. It is a symptom — a flashing red light in the nervous system — of pain, , trauma, isolation, intergenerational harm, mental health struggles, and systemic oppression (Mate, 2008; Alexander, 2010, Hari, 2015). Yet society treats it like a crime and punishes people for trying to survive (Canadian Centre on Substance Use and Addiction [CCSA], 2021).

I speak from lived experience. I’ve witnessed the system give up on people I loved — including Ryan, Danny, Chris and many more — and I’ve had to fight like hell not to give up on myself. I believe that mental health and addiction are two sides of the same coin. You cannot treat one without understanding the other. And yet, society continues to separate them, criminalizing addiction while barely tolerating mental illness. This separation is not just unhelpful — it’s deadly.

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Stigma: The Real Killer

Mental illness touches every corner of society — yet it’s still treated like a dirty secret. Especially in professional spaces. Tisk tisk — don’t you dare say you’re struggling to focus (ADHD). Don’t you dare call in “sick” and mean mentally sick Can't leave the house cause I'm having a panic attack). People with psychiatric diagnoses are often viewed as unstable, risky, or “too much.” And for women of colour? That stigma is multiplied (Canadian Mental Health Association [CMHA], 2023).

As someone living with Borderline Personality Disorder, I’ve felt the fear of disclosure. I’ve carried the shame that others projected onto me. I’ve been silenced — professionally, academically, systemically (Linehan, 1993; Chanen & Thompson, 2018).

But here’s the truth:
Our stories are our power.
Our diagnoses do not diminish our worth.
Our struggles don’t disqualify us — they demand that we be included, supported, and uplifted.

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Mental Health Deserves a Seat at the Table

“They told me to advocate… until I did.”

And when I did? They slammed the door shut.

The stigma around mental illness and substance use is often more dangerous than the conditions themselves. People who use substances are labeled “junkies,” “crazy,” “unstable,” or “irresponsible” — even by the very systems that claim to help us.

But stigma silences.
Stigma kills connection.
Stigma kills people.
It blocks access to care — care that should be a basic human right (Hari, 2015).

I’ve lived this. I’ve watched people I love — Ryan, Danny, Trevor, and Chris — die from systemic neglect. I’ve been labeled and written off because of my diagnosis.

But I’m still here.
Still standing.
Still showing up.

And I won’t be quiet just because it makes people uncomfortable.

You Can’t Preach “Wellness” and Punish Disclosure

I’ve lived with Borderline Personality Disorder, trauma, grief, addiction, and anxiety—and I’ve done the work to heal. But when I’ve disclosed my mental health struggles in professional settings, I haven’t always been met with understanding. I’ve been met with suspicion. With judgment.

With silence.

What was meant to be a brave act of transparency has, at times, cost me opportunity, trust, and even employment.

This is the unspoken truth: in a world that claims to care about mental health, we are still penalized for naming ours. Employers say “come as you are,” but don’t mean this version of you—the one who’s been through hell and clawed her way back with scars to prove it.

I don’t believe disclosure should be a risk. I believe it should be a right.

Mental health is health. And if workplaces can’t handle the reality of the human experience, then we aren’t the problem—the system is. I want a future where my children, and yours, don’t have to hide who they are to earn a paycheck. Where mental illness doesn’t disqualify you from being respected, trusted, or believed.

Until then, I’ll keep telling the truth. Even when it costs me.

RIP MY DEAR DANNY J.

YOU ARE MISSED DEARLY, BABY .

YOUR DEATH CHANGED ME- JUST LIKE THE SYSTEM AND YOUR TRAUMA CHANGED YOU.

RIP RY

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Trigger Warning: I’m Not Your Stereotype

Imagine waking up every day feeling like a stranger in your own mind, where emotions swing from intense joy to despair in mere moments, and relationships begin as lifelines only to diminish into sources of chaos and heartache. This is the reality for millions living with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), a complex and often misunderstood mental health condition.

I live with BPD. I could’ve sat at home and collected AISH. But instead, I chose a different path. For five years, I went to school, pushed through pain, and never quit. I showed up, even when it was hard, because people like me belong in classrooms and frontlines (Linehan, 2011). Those with BPD struggle with identity and emotional regulation. It explains how instability with emotional reactions leads to both internal and interpersonal conflict for those with BPD.

Fragmented or unstable self-image often experienced by individuals with BPD, which contributes significantly to their emotional dysregulation. He highlights that this dysregulation manifests in impulsive behaviours and erratic mood swings, leading to tumultuous relationships.

Marsha Linehan: A Story They Don’t Want You to Know

Dr. Marsha Linehan, is my Idol and one of the most brilliant psychologists of our time, and she is also the creator of Dialectical Behaviour Therapy (DBT), was once institutionalized and misdiagnosed. She later revealed she lived with Borderline Personality Disorder. She not only survived, but created DBT, the only treatment shown to help people with BPD. As she said, 'I decided I would get out of hell — and that when I did, I would find a way to help others get out too.' (Linehan, 2011, p. 3).

People think BPD is drama.... It’s not. It’s abandonment wounds screaming through every relationship.
It’s being terrified of losing people and doing anything not to be left behind.
Marsha Linehan was institutionalized and labeled "unbearable."
"I was in hell. and I made it out (Linehan, 2011).

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Addiction Isn’t a Crime — But Stigma Should Be

Addiction frequently stems from underlying mental health conditions such as trauma, anxiety, depression, or Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). Recognizing this connection is crucial for developing compassionate and effective support systems. “Addiction isn’t a moral failing—it’s a response to pain, trauma, and unmet mental health needs. We must shift our perspective from punishment to understanding.”
Functional Substance Use: Challenging Stereotypes

It's important to acknowledge that some individuals use substances and still maintain responsibilities such as employment and parenting. Understanding this challenges the binary view of addiction and supports a more nuanced approach to substance use.

Not everyone who uses substances fits the stereotype of addiction. Recognizing the spectrum of use helps in creating inclusive and effective support systems.
Addiction is not just about substances—it’s about silence, shame, and survival. I watched the person I love become a statistic because the system never showed up.
Ryan's passing is a painful reminder that addiction is not just a personal struggle, but a public health crisis. His life was cut short by overdose, but his story doesn’t end here. His death fuels my advocacy for mental health, addiction awareness, and the work I do to prevent others from experiencing the same fate.
We shame those who use drugs but ignore why they needed to escape.

ME AND MY AUNTIE EILEEN

Trauma Spoke First—Addiction Answered

Mental Illness Doesn’t Always Look Like Sadness — Sometimes It Looks Like Substance Use

I’ve Been Through Too Much to Sugar-Coat Anything

I have RBF? Oh, you think it’s intimidating? No, you are intimidated. — It’s my armour. My RBF is not attitude —It’s what protects me. It’s intergenerational trauma. It’s sexual abuse. It’s selling my body for money. It’s a glass pipe — in the form of a bubble or a straight — and a cold beer… or 24. It’s 100 suicide attempts since I was 11 years old. It’s my lived experience. It’s me.

In the last three years, I’ve buried three people who I loved and held dear to my heart:

My aunty Eileen (more like a mom)
My childhood friend Sean G (taken way too soon)
And my ex-fiancé Ryan — who left with a piece of me I’ll never get back

But every one of them lived with trauma, just like me — and so many others do. And yes, often we- “the damaged and broken,” end up finding the loves of our life: crack, alcohol, meth, pills, Fenty, etc. These are the things that have never left us. They don’t give us ultimatums. They comfort us. They help us survive. They give us a place to disconnect and be comfortably numb.

Trauma doesn’t care if you grew up in public housing or a three-bedroom bungalow.
I was raised by a low-income, hardworking single mother who used substances — probably to cope with her own horrific and dark childhood. But she went to work every day, and I went to school, showered and clean. No matter what was on the table, I ate every night.
Did I go without things other kids didn’t? Yes. But she did her best.

Did the cycle of addiction and trauma continue onto me and then onto my son?
Yes, it sure did.

And for that and my part that left scars for my son, I am so sorry, Logan.
To my son: I am truly sorry for any of the unhealed parts of me that caused hurt to you.

I will always try to do better xoxo

Love: Momma

Class Doesn’t Protect You from Trauma

My boyfriend grew up in an upper-middle-class home, but he too went without things other kids didn’t.
In some ways, the same things I did.
In other ways, different.
But we both carry trauma.

How? Upper middle class?..... How hard could it have been?
Just because he grew up with more money doesn’t mean his life was all roses, unicorns, and sunshine.

Trauma, Mental Health, and Addiction: They Walk Together

And what comes with the price of carrying childhood trauma?
Mental health issues.
And what is a symptom of mental health issues?
Addiction.

To the naive, uneducated people who say,
“Well I suffered severe trauma and I don’t or never have used drugs. So why do you?”

Okay Karen, let me explain this to you:
Think of it like a cold.

When I get a cold, my symptoms are coughing and a sore throat — but my nose never runs.
When you get a cold, your nose runs, your body aches, but you never cough.
Different symptoms. Same illness.

Same thing with trauma.
Maybe we both have BPD. I get the “symptom” of extreme rage. You don’t.
That’s how trauma and addiction work — we all cope differently.

Some people use substances to survive.
Some don’t.
Does that make sense now, Karen?
Good.

Connection is the Opposite of Addiction

Both my boyfriend and I live with mental health challenges.
And we both have used substances — not to party — but to survive, to cope, to keep going when life tried to break us.

What’s worse?
We’ve been punished for surviving.

We’ve faced so-called “boundaries” from family — people who cut us off, shut us out, or washed their hands of us.
And the most heartbreaking part?
These are people we would never abandon if they were the ones struggling.

But somehow, when it’s us,
Love becomes conditional.

Let’s be clear:
Cutting someone off from love is not love.

Addiction isn’t a crime — it’s a response to pain, isolation, and oppression
(Csiernik & Rowe, 2021; Maté, 2008).
Mental health, trauma, and addiction walk side by side for many people
(SAMHSA, 2014).

What we need isn’t shame or silence —

It’s connection.
It’s compassion.

We’re not broken — we’re surviving. And here’s the thing... Him and I, we aren’t just our, trauma, our mental health or our choice of surviving and coping we are also: