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On Tuesday, January 9th, 2024, I received a call from someone who said they were a producer on the Dr. Phil Primetime show that is reported to air in February 2024. They left a voicemail asking for a call back and followed up with a text message outlining the same details.
I've gotten Christmas cards from strangers with their phone numbers. I've received unsolicited letters from other inmates while I was incarcerated. This was my first direct call from a media source/producer. I'm not sure how they got my number, but I'm so thankful that she reached out so I could tell you all about it.
Mental health therapy is an ongoing process. Addiction recovery is an ongoing process. Your friends, family, and who you choose to associate with can have a significant impact on your ability to progress in either or both of those processes. This "nexus event" of receiving a call from the media showed me so much about myself and the people in my life because I immediately started to panic. These days, when I panic, I reach out to my support system and received a variety of feedback.
My therapist: Doesn't matter if it's real or not, I hope you delete it. I'm pretty sure Dr. Phil surrendered his medical license and no longer has to abide by board guidelines in terms of moral/ethical treatment of patients.
A couple of friends who want my real story shared: DO IT! That's a good chance to talk to the boomers on their level. You're that in between voice they will listen to. What are you gonna wear? A friend who still sees me as the me as I used to be: You might get a book deal out of it, if you go. Hollywood is calling and you don't want to go? No publicity is bad publicity? You love to talk about yourself. A friend who hates the patriarchy: Oh, Dr. Phil is an asshole. No, he's the leftover juices that you squeeze out after a bad case of diarrhea. Me: (After all the thoughts about my family) What would Kristen Bell say if she saw me on that show? What would America Ferrera say?
I understand that TV is not real. I understand that beloved characters are not representations of the actors who portray them. I understand that Kristen Bell is not my friend, but I like to think she could be my imaginary friend. You know, like, I could shoot her a text and we would LOL at the notion of going to meet Dr. Phil with an exchange of gifs. I believe her when she does ads that increase access to affordable mental health medication and says she cares about mental health. I believe her when she says her husband is an addict and that she loves him anyway. If I ever got the opportunity to go to game night with Kristen Bell, I don't believe it would be because she saw me on Dr. Phil's new Primetime show.
If I bumped into "Amy from Superstore" or "the mom from Barbie" at Target, I wouldn't want to have to be like, "Girl, I know, I had enough problems, I'm not sure what possessed me to go on National TV to argue with a fake doctor." America Ferrera and I chat in my head while I eat chips paired with salsa from a jar I bought at Wal-Mart. I know it was made by a company that wouldn't be able to tell a difference between a Nicaraguan and a Mexican person, but it's cheap and convenient so back off, I'm hangry. She gets it. Maybe you do too.
I'm a Latina, Caucasian, kinda millenial/kinda xennial, she/her, mother of three. I'm an ex-wife of a police officer, I'm a first wife of an "artist at heart disguised as a cog in the corporate machine", but I've also been a second wife of someone trauma bonded to their first wife. I've been respected and mistreated as a professional, but also as a criminal. I've been the recipient of government assistance, student loans, and also been awarded college funding grants and scholarships. I was born on a military base that's no longer in operation and received several medical malpractice claims. I've lived and grown up in Texas, Arizona, California, Ohio, and South Carolina, but the one thing I had everywhere, including prison, was access to education and television programming.
I share the exact same birthday with Bruno Mars and at one point, in an obvious state of delusion, was like, "What if he was a twin separated at birth that my parents signed away under government duress. I'm pretty sure "Talkin' to the Moon" is a brother sister separated at birth story, y'all." (Dude, IKR? Now, I can clearly see that this was a cry to the fact that my actual sibling relationship needed repaired and I mourned that my actual sibling and I had such a big age gap and that I related more to a musical icon than my younger brother. To the people around me in 2018, though, I was out of my damn mind. "Look at his chin, his facial structure. This isn't a thing, Laura." 😒 )
I'm a female woman who has always identified as such, except for when my hair was too short and I had to be strong and brave in a psych ward, where people were literally swall-ow-ing batt-er-ies from the dayroom tv remote to get out, that I was like, "I think I understand why a female would want to be seen as male, if that helped them cope with their environment." News coverage of my crime was translated into other languages, the world saw my face, and to most of them, I was another one of those teachers, but I don't see myself as a statistic because I'm a part of too many demographics to count. (Rest assured, though, fam, "Dr. Phil guest" is not one of them.)
I see myself as a person with a lot of privilege and many blessings who is genuinely trying to be better today than she was yesterday, most days. And as such a person, I also wonder who else out there can relate to things I've experienced? Who else can learn from mistakes I've made, and tell me about theirs, because I've also been a liar, a cheater, a thief. I've abused my power, I've been a bad friend, I've felt the flood of adrenaline that goes along with doing something you know isn't safe/smart/legal, and so have you.
I've had more serving jobs that I can count, wrecked cars on purpose (I'm sorry!), littered and walked away from it. I've felt the warm rush of Dilaudid being pushed and been able to have a conversation with a heroin addict who told me to never, ever try heroin. I've also been away from the social media world for so long that I'm the technological age of my parents, so that's fun. (Help your elders with technology! ) I'm a tier 3 registered sex offender. What demographic do you put all that under, if not lifelonglearner?
Anyway, I don't need to talk to Dr. Phil to share my realest stories with you because I talk to you all the time, even if you can't hear it. (Did she just say she hears voices and talks to them? Yes. Kinda.) When I made the switch to cannabis, all of those perspectives and opinions and overanalyzing I had done for 32 years exploded. Idk if it was neurons forming new connections, or what scientifically happened, but when I tried to describe it, all the doctors smiled and said I needed rest. I never got a formal diagnosis from 4 hospitalizations across two different states.
For the record, I'm also someone who likes extra white french dressing on their salads; Like, don't even worry about putting it on the side, just pour it on there. If that's what tips the scale and sends me to the bad place, so be it.
All that being said, if someone from UCLA College of Social Sciences, Center for the Study of Women e-mailed, that's an email I'd take seriously. To be honest though, I'd also reply to Seth Meyers' assistant because he knows puh-lenty of people who battle mental health issues every day.
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