Jordan's Story

 I share my story not for attention or sympathy, but to offer hope. My journey has been shaped by addiction, deep struggles of the mind, and a near-death experience that redefined my understanding of grace. Through the darkest valleys, I found healing and purpose. No matter how deep the pain, there is always a way forward. If my story can encourage even one person, then my struggles have not been in vain.

From an early age, I carried the emotional weight of those around me. My parents’ divorce left me torn between them, internalizing pain I didn’t know how to process. Moving to a new town made things worse. Social anxiety and bullying pushed me into isolation, laying the foundation for years of struggle.

As a teen, I sought escape in music festivals and the PLUR culture, but what seemed like freedom quickly became entrapment. Drugs, which I once viewed as harmless, led me down a dangerous path. My first experience with what doctors called drug-induced psychosis shattered my sense of reality. Fear and paranoia consumed me, yet I kept silent for months, battling alone, afraid of being labeled "crazy."

Seeking help was both a lifeline and a battle. At least one psychiatrist insisted I needed medication for life, dismissing my concerns about severe side effects—including a gambling addiction seemingly triggered by the meds themselves. When I pushed for a careful tapering process, he smirked and said, “Stop if you want. I’ll see you back here in three months when your symptoms return.” When I inevitably did return, he seemed to use it as proof of his authority, ignoring my lived experience and, in my belief, overmedicating me to the point of absurdity.

Before my first hospitalization, I attempted suicide by jumping into the Niagara River above the Falls. As I was tossed by the rapids, I exhaled underwater, ready to drown—until I experienced something indescribable by words. Human intellect and the English language can only explain it as a blinding white light appearing. I felt my soul being pulled from my body, saw myself in third person tumbling through the rapids, and in that moment, I encountered what I believe to be God. A calm, powerful voice that sounded like my thoughts told me, “It’s not your time to die.” Suddenly, I was thrown out of the rapids and was able to locate a rock, 400 meters from the edge of the Falls, where I clung to life for over eight hours before being rescued.

That moment changed everything. I had faced death and lived. I realized my life had purpose. What I once thought of as illness, I came to understand as intense spiritual warfare. And I also came to realize that the cure was not in the hands of doctors, but in the hands of Jesus Christ. By surrendering my life to Him, building a real relationship with Him, and truly living a lifestyle of prayer without ceasing, I found freedom.

Today, I no longer meet any criteria for diagnosis, nor do I require medications. I have been healed.

Now, I fight for those navigating a broken mental health system. People facing battles of the mind and spirit are widely misunderstood, and far more often victims of violence than perpetrators. Patients deserve more than rigid, medication-first treatment. They deserve holistic care, compassion, respect, and autonomy. Psychiatry must evolve beyond coercion and fear-based compliance.

To those still in the dark: You are not alone. Healing is possible. And true freedom is found in Christ.