January 2026 Edition
Category Archives: Feature
Living with an unknown mental disorder
Personal Narrative
By Zoey Davis, Editor
In 2021, I was going into seventh grade. I had no friends; I had lost touch with my old friends over the summer because of conflicts and growing apart. I felt very lonely and embarrassed, and everyone had already built their own friend groups.
I experienced extreme worry and self-consciousness walking into school, being in class and sitting alone at lunch. I had only a few people I would talk to, and none of them on a personal level.
As school continued, people started to talk to me. A girl who sat beside me in my science class complimented my makeup. This same girl sat behind me in the homeroom, as we had similar last names. She introduced me to her friend group. I finally made friends of my own after losing all my previous ones.
Throughout seventh grade, I noticed I would get awful stomachaches and horrible anxiety. In turn, I started talking to the guidance counselor at Kimpton and spending more time in the nurse’s office. I spent months complaining about the stomachaches I was having, how they affected my sleep, my appetite and my ability to even get up some days.
After a few months of missing school days and spending back-to-back periods in the nurse’s office, my mother finally scheduled a doctor’s appointment. My doctor told me it was probably just normal anxiety and that it would pass.
I continued feeling this anxiety and extreme pain in my stomach until freshman year. My condition got worse, and I dealt with harsher anxiety, more stomachaches, heartburn and even shakiness in my legs. I was put on anxiety medication and medicine for both heartburn and stomachaches.
My condition stayed constant, and I started experiencing extreme anxiety attacks. There were days when I couldn’t even get out of bed–I was stuck in pain. The medication they had me on wasn’t working, including my pain medication. I started using larger amounts of Ibuprofen, amounts that would surely kill my liver. I completely abandoned my prescribed medications, filled with rage about the ineffectiveness of the medication.
There were many days I struggled with the motivation to get out of bed, grappling with the mental and physical frustrations. I felt too anxious or sick to get up, too overwhelmed by even everyday tasks. Other days, starting an assignment, cleaning my room or something as simple as talking with friends, felt like an impossible task to complete.
I felt as if no doctors were listening to me; every doctor’s appointment felt the same. Between Psychologists, Gastroenterologists, MFM’s, Neurologists, Cardiologists and Immunologists, I felt hopeless. Doctors kept ordering tests. I’ve gone through MRIs, scopes, brain tests, asthmatic tests and blood tests, and I continued to receive the same news, regardless of the specialists to whom I went.
Fortunately, I was finally given one diagnosis among all those doctors and tests: Functional Neurological Disorder, also referred to as FND. Unfortunately, research on this disorder is scarce, and there isn’t much I can do to help with the diagnosis. FND is a disruption in the brain and body; simply put, my brain is sending signals to my body that it isn’t supposed to be doing.
I went through therapy to try and help my symptoms, ways I could ‘calm’ myself down when experiencing an ‘attack.’ Therapy did nothing for me, as there was no reason why I was having these symptoms. I couldn’t calm myself down when experiencing a symptom, as I wasn’t anxious, and it happened all the time. Again, my condition dwindled to anxiety.
I got angry about being diagnosed with no resolution, at therapy being a waste of time, at doctors for not listening to me and for being taken on and off medications I couldn’t even be on long enough to remember. I stopped taking all my medications and stopped going to therapy and doctors’ appointments. I gave up on my health, deciding to just work through it.
When you lose the complete motivation and physical capability to do most things, this also includes personal hygiene. Recently, I’ve been getting better at keeping up with my hygiene, but in earlier years, it was shameful. I was very embarrassed and riddled with guilt at the state I was in most days.
I had days and weeks without showering, brushing my teeth and hair, etc. On days when it was physically impossible for me to get out of bed, my hygiene was the least of my concerns. Days where even just changing my clothes would be considered a win, showering seemed so far away.
My attendance also suffered immensely; I went the whole school year of my sophomore year without going a full week once, sometimes missing an entire week. My relationships also suffered with my friends and family. I stopped hanging out with friends, feeling too ill to go or stopped full communication. I felt as if my family couldn’t understand, that they didn’t believe me–I had arguments about my attendance, my social life and even my own condition.
I felt isolated, so I started throwing myself into my school work. I figured if I had anything, it would be education. I tried so hard to keep up with my classes, making up work as fast as I could, or studying harder to make up a test in two days. I achieved my goal; I ended my sophomore year with a 4.3 GPA, although I had 200 absent hours, not including medical absences.
Going into junior year, my stomachaches became less of an issue, and heartburn turned to once a month. Although new issues arose, the shakiness in my legs became worse, my heart rate was elevated above normal rates, and I couldn’t go a day without feeling like I was about to pass out. The shakiness developed into constant pain in my legs. At night, I can remember crying because the pain was so bad I couldn’t sleep.
I had to go back to the doctors; it was all too much to ignore. As I sat down for the first appointment back, I felt listened to, I felt heard. After many visits back, I was also diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome, commonly known as POTS. POTS is a cardiovascular disorder that makes my heart jump to high rates and makes me feel lightheaded, dizzy and nauseous.
Anxiety, FND and POTS all share symptoms that can make it difficult for doctors to diagnose, which is why it took my doctors 4-5 years to diagnose me, alongside ongoing health problems that haven’t been properly diagnosed. Chronic illness on top of a mental disorder that makes it hard to function mentally is exhausting.
With the recent diagnosis, I didn’t know how to feel. I felt like it answered some questions but left others unanswered. I was glad for the diagnosis, as it would help my symptoms become more serious and real to others.
Currently, I still suffer from chronic leg pain; I can’t stand up without my vision going blank, and the lightheaded feeling of passing out haunts me every day. I still have many specialists to see just to get some idea of my ongoing health and mental concerns.
I live most of my days in constant worry about my grade, my family, my friends and especially my health. I can feel the strength of my legs deteriorating. I’m scared that one day it’ll get so bad I can’t walk anymore. I live in fear that I’ll never be healthy, and I’ll be stuck on medication for the rest of my life. A life that I thought would never happen to me is closer than I think. Actively feeling my own brain and body work against each other is terrifying.
‘My dad is a murderer’: The ripple effects of addiction
Children are left to carry the weight of their father’s actions–two dead as a result
By Trevor Ing, Editor-in-Chief
“My dad is a murderer.”
Those words were uttered by the oldest daughter of a staff member here at the high school the day she learned about the accident.
Maddie Freeder talked about how she and her two siblings now have to live knowing their father made the decision to get behind the wheel after having a few drinks, and according to police records, “an unknown substance,” which resulted in the deaths of two innocent people.
On an average Sunday afternoon in December, in the southern part of the U.S., an elderly couple was traveling north on the interstate, dreams ahead of them, when they were forced off the road by an impaired driver and crashed into a tree. As emergency crews arrived on the scene, both were pronounced dead—the woman was so mangled that she was unable to be identified until later tests were performed.
That driver was Mark Freeder–an addict–who supposedly had been sober for two years, according to Maddie.
Just this past November, Mark visited his family in Ohio and proclaimed even then that he was sober; however, that day, Mark got behind the wheel with “two times the legal limit of alcohol” according to a local news source who interviewed the lead trooper on scene.
The trooper went on to say the whole situation was “a ridiculous mistake.” This “ridiculous mistake” was not so ridiculous to the three kids who call Mark their dad: Maddie, the oldest; Gabriel Freeder, the middle child and Charlotte Freeder, the youngest. The three of them now have to deal with the repercussions their father made that fateful day–a mistake that still seems unreal to each of them.
“You hear about it happening in the news, but you don’t think it’s ever going to be someone you know,” Gabriel said, and he certainly did not think it would be one of his parents.
Much earlier in life before the accident, while still trying to stay in his kids’ lives, Mark struggled with addiction. While married to his then wife and teacher, Annie Freeder, he would commonly drive to his parents’ house immediately after work, where he would either drink or partake in other drugs before going home.
“[Mark] was not permitted to do any of that stuff in our house…[The kids] clearly knew something was wrong with him,” Annie said. “He would be passed out on the couch, and I would make the excuse that he had a hard day at work or whatever I came up with to try and shield them from the truth, but alcohol wasn’t an issue back then–that came after the divorce. He did a lot of other things though, many of which I didn’t discover until later.”
After covering for Mark so many times, Annie finally reached a breaking point with what the kids called “the final fight,” which became the reason he was forced out of the home, and the divorce immediately followed.
After he moved out, Mark became the “fun dad.” He moved in with his parents and was given every other weekend to spend time with his three kids–most of which he took.
While the kids enjoyed being with their father, there were often times when his addiction got in the way of regular visits, and at one point the kids were taken away from him for about a year after he was caught doing drugs when eight-year-old Gabriel was with him.
“[My dad] straight up did bath salts one night when he was watching me,” Gabriel said.
After that incident, Mark seemed to be handling his addiction better and went back to his regular schedule for visitation, and as the kids got older, it was evident the two houses were very different: One with rules and one without.
“You had so much freedom… He rarely said no to stuff,” Gabriel said.
Charlotte, too, recalled the differences between the two houses: “I remember favoring my dad’s house more than my mom’s because there was such a lack of structure [at his house].”
Even though he might have given too much freedom at times, he still was able to hold a good connection with his kids early on. With Maddie, he became the parent to which she would always go, as she and Annie did not always see eye-to-eye; as a result, Maddie moved in with a friend in April of her senior year of high school.
“[My dad has] always been super supportive of me and honestly, despite what happened, he’s a really good guy. I just remember all the kindness and life lessons I’ve learned and being a good person has all been from him,” Maddie said.
Toward the beginning of Gabriel’s senior year of high school, he moved in with his father after having complications with his mom’s house rules. Unlike Maddie, Gabriel found that he did not have someone he could talk to about life, and things were very different than what he expected, so after a couple of months, he moved back in with Annie.
“I knew that Mom would support me better. I was starting to enter college and stuff and my dad didn’t know [crap] about it,” Gabriel said. “I think at that point I was realizing, ‘Hey, you know, having total freedom isn’t actually all it’s cut out to be…It’s nice having a support system and parents who actually [care] about you.’”
At only three and a half years olf when the separation occurred, Charlotte had good memories attached to her father. Although remembering vividly the whole “final fight,” she kept a decent relationship with Mark.
“I just remember him having a fun time with me [when I was little]. We went to the lake, he taught me how to ride a bike, he taught me how to shoot a gun, he got me into archery and he let me play video games and stay up as long as I wanted,” Charlotte said. “I just remember it being a very free environment.”
After Mark’s accident, Maddie was the first to know, learning about it a few days later: “My grandpa called me Tuesday morning and was like ‘We waited a couple days to tell you, but your dad’s in jail and he drove drunk,’ and I was just like okay whatever.”
Gabriel said that Mark was involved in many accidents before, so at the start of Maddie’s conversation with her grandfather, it was not much of a surprise to her hearing he was involved in another accident, but this situation was different from the rest.
“Then he said, well, he killed two people in that accident. I was in my office with a coworker, so I was trying to hold it together. Then all I kept thinking about was getting over to their house, so I left work,” Maddie said.
On the drive to her grandparents’, she started calling her siblings to let them know about the situation. Charlotte was the first one Maddie was able to reach, but Gabriel was still asleep due to his third-shift job, which has him on opposite hours from everyone else. It was Gabriel’s wife, Sarah, who ended up telling him.
When Sarah got home, she immediately woke Gabriel up to tell him about the incident, but she wanted to tell him outside of their house as to “not connect bad memories to [their home].” Gabriel immediately assumed someone had died, so when Sarah told him what happened, he was somewhat relieved.
“She told me, and the first thought I had was like, ‘Oh thank God it wasn’t something worse,’” Gabriel said. That was until he found out about the elderly couple whose lives were lost in the crash.
“Honestly, my dad’s like a cockroach. He’s totaled every car he’s ever owned [because of his addiction] and walked away relatively unscathed every time. The worst part for me was the fact that innocent lives were taken,” Gabriel said.
Initially he was not too surprised because of how common the situation was with Mark. For Charlotte, things were not as relieving.
“I was silent for a solid 45 seconds because I was just processing. ‘Am I still sleeping and what are we talking about? There’s no way,’” Charlotte said.
After some time, the kids were able to come to terms with what happened. They understand they can not change what happened, but now they are weighed down with the possibility of not being able to see their father for 20-30 years. Maddie in particular said she finds it hard to have some sort of closure until after he is sentenced.
Ironically, Maddie and Gabriel both work with people just like Mark. She is a chemical dependency therapist and Gabriel works as a corrections officer at a correctional institution.
With Maddie’s help, Mark had the opportunity to go through five rehab facilities–the most recent one costing $45,000. Maddie was able to get him a scholarship through her job.
After this final rehab, he told his entire family and employer that he was free from his addiction to drugs and alcohol. Before the incident happened, Mark moved down south with intentions to “start fresh.” He had a job working for maintenance that he got through someone he knew, and he had an apartment.
Similar to the result of his previous rehabs, Mark relapsed, and now he faces the consequences of his addiction–real jail time for killing two people.
According to The National Library for Medicine, “Studies show that more than 85% of individuals relapse and return to drug use within one year of treatment,” meaning, Mark’s situation was not out of the ordinary, especially from Maddie’s perspective.
“It’s understandable. I’ve been in the field for nine years, and I just come to expect it,” Maddie said.
Even though it was not a surprise, Maddie struggles to find any forgiveness.
“I can respect that he’s my dad, and I obviously love him because he’s my dad, but [my] respect for him as a person is kind of gone,” Maddie said. “I just can’t respect or have someone in my life who chooses to do that, and now there’s a whole family grieving.”
Sadly with addiction, there is a lot of stigma from the public. People post on social media making fun of addicts in the streets, doing what they like to call the “fenty fold,” and then being disgusted when they try to get help. It may be funny to some, but to others who have to live through the situation, it hurts them knowing these people are essentially talking about their family members.
“When you have an [addicted person], they are a human being with a real life… Almost every [addict] I’ve worked with has been the best human ever,” Maddie said.
All three children went to their mom’s the day they found out and were most bothered by the FaceBook posts they read about their father. While they realize Mark is the one solely responsible for these two deaths, they were hurt at how nasty some of the comments were. Charlotte seemed the most upset and commented how “some of these [addicts] have children” who are reading these threads.
Addiction does not just affect the addict’s life–it causes a ripple effect that hurts all others around them. In Mark’s case, his addiction spread to Annie in a much different way than the rest of the family.
“I don’t know how to help [my kids]. I think that bothers me the most because I’ve always protected them, and as a parent, you want to protect your kids, and you don’t want your kids to hurt, but this is something that is beyond my knowledge scope,” Annie said. “I’ve always been a fixer, and I can’t fix this. They will never be able to say anything other than ‘My dad is a murderer,’ and that is hard to think about as a parent.”
Addiction is simply a chemical imbalance in the brain, as Maddie put it, and it has a lot to do with genetics. People with high perceptibility to addiction can go from being completely normal to all of a sudden being completely addicted to whatever they are taking. It varies from person to person, but addiction can start on the first or the 100th beer a person has; unfortunately, getting help most of the time is much harder than it should be.
On average, rehab can cost anywhere from $30,000-$70,000, where there is only a 25% chance the patient actually succeeds according to The American Addiction Center. Although these programs exist, they seem so far out of reach for most addicts.
“I definitely think a lot of good things come from rehab programs, but they are prohibitively expensive. Like why are we charging people $60,000 to help them? It just makes no sense,” Gabriel said.
Annie and her children were all adamant that addiction treatment can not keep going on like it is. In 2023, there were 12,429 alcohol-impaired driving fatalities in the United States, averaging about 34 deaths per day or one person every 42 minutes, the NHTSA said. These numbers are from real people, from people with futures and most importantly, from people with families. Along with the deaths, addicts are not only putting themselves, but others in danger each time they get behind the wheel.
Hotline numbers like 988 are out there for anyone struggling with substance abuse. “Whether you’re facing mental health struggles, emotional distress, alcohol or drug use concerns or just need someone to talk to, our caring counselors are here for you. You are not alone,” 988Lifeline.org stated.
“If you suspect someone is struggling with a substance, don’t shy away from it or beat around the bush with it. Just ask them directly. Tell them how you feel–ask them if they’re doing okay. Ask them if they know what they’re doing because if you ignore that stuff, you get people like my dad, who will do something really stupid and then other people end up getting hurt because of it,” Gabriel said.
United States veterans tell their stories
Bryanna Pullins / Website Manager
“To support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign or domestic” is a quote Truman said July 26, 1947.
What does this truly mean? From a young age, I have been force-fed the idea that once you join the military, you spend your days training, fighting, and preparing for the next big war or attack.
Now, while that is not necessarily false, much more happens behind the scenes. My family is not new to the military scene. Going back three generations, my family has been dedicated to serving their country, but what did this truly look like?
My Grandmother, Wanda Coleman, is among the many brave people who served our country. Straight out of college, at the age of 20, she served in the U.S. Army from 1975 to 1977.
Military service was not new to her family, as it was Coleman who followed in the footsteps of her siblings.
“There were seven of us, and out of the seven, six of us went into the military,” Coleman said.
This family legacy was not what convinced her to go into the military. A friend talked Coleman into joining the military, “We were both supposed to go in at the same time, be in the same platoon, and all of that. I went, and she didn’t.”
Though supported by her parents, they worried that joining the military was the right move for her.
“I was a naive young lady–that was another reason my family was scared about me going into the military. I didn’t pay any attention to what was going on in politics or with the government,” Coleman said. “I just knew my girlfriend asked me to join the buddy system, you make good money, and you pay for your schooling, so that’s why I was there.”
Coleman had a clear goal in mind, and she planned to see it to the end. With the support of her family and the strength within herself, she proceeded with her military career.
At the time of Coleman’s enlistment, MOS (Military Occupational Specialty), which refers to a service member’s job, was not available. This means that enlistees had no control over what their assignment/job would be.
Despite this change, Coleman continued with her intentions.
“Looking back, I was reminded that it was a stock control specialist [an assignment in which I was placed], but I never really worked in it; I became a battalion mail clerk, which I loved,” Coleman explained.
The assignment of ‘battalion mail clerk’ included “handle[ing] the mail for the entire battalion in different companies within the battalion,” Coleman said. “I picked up the mail, sorted the mail and delivered the mail [on the military base].”
Regardless of her given position, basic training was still required. Coleman recounted this as one of the hardest times for her.
“It was rough, but I loved it. My family was concerned about it because they didn’t think that I could do it, but I became a squad leader and then a platoon leader, and I was selected to call cadence,” Coleman said.
Those successful basic training did not go without its challenges.
“The only time I got very frustrated and cried was at the firing range. Something was wrong with my weapon. They didn’t know, and I didn’t know it. I have three chances to qualify, and I only had one left,” she said.“I went to the bathroom that night and cried in the shower…and then the next day when I was going to qualify they checked my weapon and saw that the site was off. It wasn’t my fault it was the weapon, and I qualified that day.”
Continued on website…
In January of 1977, Coleman made the decision to leave the U.S. Army.
“I had just gotten engaged, and while we were [off post], my first sergeant called and told me I got selected to go down to Germany. Well, my fiancé didn’t want to go to Germany. He would have had to re-enlist, and he didn’t want to re-enlist to go down to Germany. Well, the only way I could get out was to be expecting or to get out of the service, so the only choice I had was to get out of the army,” Coleman said.
To this day, Coleman regrets that decision. She wishes she would have gone to Germany and traveled more rather than getting married.
“I had my sergeant trying to convince me to go, and he said that if it was true love, it would be there when I got back,” Coleman explained.
Given Coleman’s decision to leave the Army, she often feels undeserving of veteran status due to her time served: “I don’t feel as important as the rest of the veterans.”
While some, including Coleman, had a pleasant military service this is not the case for others.
Family member Mary Johnson* served in the U.S. Army as well.
“I served a year, six months, and 23 days to be exact. From December the 9 of 1975 until July 1 of 1977; although, I signed up for a three-year term,” Johnson said.
Johnson joined the military at the age of 20, seeking the ability to afford college. Her family was worried about her joining the military due to her meekness and physical size. They feared she would not be able to withstand the grueling training.
Her parents and the part of the world she lived in underestimated her.
“I think it’s common in the military, as well as in law enforcement, because that is part of my background as well,” Johnson said. “Females are considered to be weaker vessels or weaker persons, and less important, less qualified and so more desired positions were offered to males or not offered to people of color.”
However, Johnson needed an escape from the place she called home.
“It was a need to provide financial support, and in all honesty, it was a need to escape my home environment… most of my childhood and home life was unsafe and very dysfunctional,” Johnson said.
Johnson was able to find a new home while in boot camp: “We were like family, like sisters. It didn’t matter the color or the background, so that [community] did exist, and I did have that experience.”
Johnson was later assigned to the 497th transportation motor pool as a transportation dispatching clerk.
“I was responsible for preparing the daily maintenance deadline report of our transportation vehicles and equipment, also for scheduling services and repairs for that fleet and equipment,” Johnson said.
After her assignment, Johnson became isolated in the motor pool.
“I was the only female assigned to the dispatch office, which is stressful, and uncomfortable, but I was able to do the job, ” Johnson said.
It was not until then that she was subjected to racist comments and sexual harassment by a superior.
“I had a white male supervisor, [a] sergeant who was narcissistic, toxic and just not the best supervisor to be under his leadership. He would tell off-colored jokes,” Johnson said.
Johnson went on to recount a racist joke involving a young African American child: “And I laughed out of fear, insecurity, coming from a dysfunctional home and other reasons that I am aware of and unaware of because it wasn’t funny, and I didn’t want to laugh, and because I was by myself, and it was just he and I, it was in my best interest to go along to get along, in that environment.”
Johnson believed she could handle such comments; however, this treatment did not stop with the sergeant.
“There was one soldier with a friend who would be waiting for me that would just say very off-colored and unwarranted things to me, of a sexual nature. It made me fearful because I was always by myself, so he would wait for me,” Johnson said.
This behavior continued until Johnson no longer felt safe going to work. She prayed that God would stay with her and not test her at this time. Her fear led her to no longer leaving her room.
Johnson then recounted a time when the captain of her company gained access to her locked room.
“It felt like I had been drugged, but I didn’t do drugs, I didn’t drink and I couldn’t explain why I couldn’t get out of my bed,” Johnson said. “I don’t know if anything happened to me or why he was in my room. I just know shortly after that, I ended up in the hospital.”
The hospital examined her and later sent her to the main hospital in Washington, D.C. where she was transferred to their psych ward.
“I was hospitalized from March of 1977 until I was discharged from the military in July of 1977,” Johnson said.
The anti-psychotic meds were forced on Johnson until she was discharged.
“I was sent home where I escaped with a 100% disability rating,” Johnson said.
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