Have you ever woken up and felt like you were no longer yourself? As though overnight, your identity slipped through your fingers, leaving behind a person you didn't recognize? That was my reality just a month after being released from the hospital. The excruciating mental pain I felt was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I was recovering from a severe manic, psychotic episode that came seemingly out of nowhere and battling my first episode of debilitating depression. I felt like I had brain damage. 

I found myself looking longingly at photos from just months prior, envious of the person I used to be. It seemed impossible to reconcile how, so suddenly, I had gone from being an ambitious social entrepreneur pursuing my master's degree abroad in London to a psych ward patient diagnosed with bipolar 1 disorder. 

In the wake of psychosis, my mind was consumed with incessant suicidal ideation—more like a sensation than a thought, compulsive and involuntary. I was struggling not only to process this inexplicable new reality but also to explain it to my loved ones. How could they understand that the person they once knew was gone, replaced by someone who could barely get out of bed? A well-intentioned family member told me, "Sometimes, you just have to pick yourself up by your bootstraps."

Those words cut deeply. I desperately wanted to be strong, pull myself together, and keep going. Before my illness, I considered myself driven, motivated, and hardworking. I, too, had believed the common misconceptions about mental illness—that symptoms were "psychological," that you could simply think your way out of them by summoning willpower and adopting a positive mindset. But now, I understand this couldn't be further from the truth. 

The simplest tasks were immensely challenging. It took all the energy I could muster to get out of bed, brush my teeth, and change my clothes. Every morning, waking up was agonizing—the thought of facing another day crushed me. I knew I had loved my life only months ago, but now, all I could think about was how to end it.

Last winter, after attending a dazzling holiday light show with my family, we ascended to our hotel floor in a glass elevator. I peered down and admired the Christmas-bedecked courtyard. As someone freed from the ravages of mental illness, I never take simple pleasures for granted. Upon exiting the elevator, a realization struck me: unlike other times we had stayed in this same hotel, I had no desire to jump to my death. 

By implementing metabolic therapies—such as a medical ketogenic diet, fasting, exercise, and meditation—I have put my illness into complete remission. I recently celebrated three years of stability using metabolic therapies as my sole form of treatment. I believe these interventions not only alleviated my symptoms but also addressed the root cause of my illness, leading to lasting healing and long-term remission. Based on emerging science and my personal experience, I support Harvard psychiatrist Dr. Christopher Palmer's brain energy theory, which posits that mental disorders are metabolic disorders of the brain. Palmer hypothesizes that mitochondrial dysfunction can lead to energy dysregulation and psychiatric symptoms.

In my deepest depression, I felt like a hostage to my own body, powerless against the metabolic dysfunction impairing my cognition. When I first grasped the brain energy theory, it was incredibly validating: During my depressive episodes, I literally didn't have the adequate energy needed to function because my brain and body's energy production was compromised, a reality grounded in cellular biology, not "in my head."

Eric Rodgers, a friend and advocate who overcame suicidal depression, described his former suffering in a way that resonated deeply: “I had something worse than a death sentence. It felt like a ‘life sentence’ to suffering that knew no bottom.” I, too, had been told I’d live with this chronic illness forever, reliant on antipsychotic medications with terrible side effects. But like Eric, I eventually found liberation through metabolic therapies.

I've now met many others like us who have recovered from serious mental illness by implementing metabolic therapies. Systemic changes in mental health care are essential to ensure that lifestyle metabolic treatments—like ketogenic therapy, exercise, and meditation—are accessible to everyone. Patients deserve education and comprehensive support to implement these therapies, yet our current system leaves many without even basic resources, let alone access to cutting-edge treatments. This must change.

The crisis is undeniable, and many lives are at stake. Treatment resistance affects as many as 20-60% of patients with psychiatric conditions, leaving them without lasting relief from debilitating symptoms. According to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, suicide is the 11th leading cause of death in the U.S., with an estimated 1.6 million suicide attempts in 2022. In the Netherlands, euthanasia rates for individuals with psychiatric conditions are rising: There were 10 cases of assisted suicide in 2010; in 2023, that number climbed to 138. 

In the midst of this crisis, Andrew King’s story is a heartbreaking reminder of what’s at stake. Diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, Andrew was told he would live with a chronic disease, his future clouded by uncertainty and a dependence on medications with unbearable side effects that were indistinguishable from symptoms. In the summer of 2023, Andrew, an incredibly bright and kind young man, died by suicide. His mother, Julie King, is now devoted to advocating for metabolic psychiatry. 

Despite her grief, Julie continues to inspire others. She often shares the milestones achieved by Lauren Kennedy, who has been documenting her journey of putting schizoaffective disorder into remission using metabolic therapies on her YouTube channel, Living Well With Schizophrenia  Julie reflects on what could have changed Andrew's trajectory. Had he received a message of hope—that remission was possible—when diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, his journey might have been different. Instead, he was handed a life sentence, with little hope for true recovery.

Suggesting death as a rational option for psychiatric conditions is heartbreaking; telling patients they must endure lifelong suffering is even more inhumane. We desperately need treatment advancements. As advocates, we can drive change, pushing for research to uncover new treatment options and for the healthcare system to make metabolic psychiatry care accessible now. People with psychiatric conditions deserve effective treatments, hope for complete remission, and the assurance that society is fighting for their recovery. 

With advancements in metabolic psychiatry and greater access to current metabolic therapies, there is hope. It’s crucial to offer individuals the treatments and support they need to find true recovery, instead of merely managing their condition. Together, we must push for a future where innovative, life-saving approaches are no longer a privilege but a standard of care.

If you or someone you know is struggling with suicidal thoughts, please reach out for help. Contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 988 or visit their website for resources.