The Vision for Apotheosis: Collaboration

For 12 years, I worked in the emergency department and watched people arrive during some of the most frightening, disorienting moments of their lives. Their symptoms were treated. Their medications were adjusted. Their crises were stabilized. But too often, the person underneath the crisis disappeared.

I saw patients reduced to a diagnosis, a behavior, a chart, or a problem to manage. I saw families leave with instructions but little understanding. I saw people cycling through the system without ever feeling truly heard, or homeless on the street, unmedicated, asking for a turkey sandwich and new yellow hospital socks with the grippers on the bottom.

Mental health had recently become deeply personal when my son was diagnosed with autism at 4, during the first two years of my nursing career. At the time, autism was not discussed as openly as it is today and was hardly heard of in my little country farming town in NC. In fact, in retrospect, they asked all the questions but not once hinted at their suspicions. After the death of my mother we relocated to Atlanta where very quickly neighbors, daycare workers, and strangers would ask, "does your son have autism"?

"Autism? What? No....... But why do you ask"?

Spiraling, and afraid, I turned to coworkers with my questions. I was met with several coworkers with children on the spectrum and they got me to the right county with the right people. There was a propensity of knowledge to navigate a world I did not yet understand! I began to feel the fear and panic of not knowing what to do for my son fade away...rather quickly. I actually started to see the perks to the resources he was given in comparison to "normocognitive" kiddos, but that's another fish to fry at a different cookout.

Psychiatry and therapy helped me find guidance and camaraderie. They gave me language for what was happening, support when I felt overwhelmed, and a clearer path forward. It opened my life up to lifelong friendships with other parents. It opened up dialogue for helping my coworkers understand that our demanding surgeon was simply neurodivergent, no biggie. There were gentle nods with starngers in grocery stores whn children were having meltdowns, and for one second we knew we weren't alone throug that subtle "I understand" eye contact. That experience shaped the way I see mental health care: not as something reserved for people in crisis, but as a resource that can help people understand many shifting dynamics.

Then Covid happened.

Covid was a very real, raw, vivid reminder that mental health affects everyone, and I mean every.single.person felt it. There was a mass suicide crises. Depression skyrocketed. People became lonely and introverted. Socilaization plummeted. Psychiatrists were having psychotic breaks (that one was a real game changer for me in understanding work/life balance). This was a finalizing point for myself. I was already in school for psychiatry. Yet, I had gained a fundamental resilience and now a deep desire to learn everything I could about the human brain, behavior, and how life shapes our internal dialogue that we express to the outside world.

Later, I entered my therapy rotation. Many schools don't require a therapy rotation. Holy veil drop, Batman! Life changing. I began to see the patterns, learned behaviors, indoctrinations, cultural ties, language, medication masking, socioeconomic disparities..... I saw it all. I witnessed that psychiatric treatment needed a more complete framework. In psychiatry we focus on using medications to get our neurotransmitters back to baseline, which is a very effective to way to modulate our brain and bend it into submission.

We all know our modalities work. Psychotherapy is absolutely pivotal, god bless you all! Medication can be life-changing. Neuroscience has all the science-y sexy facts and cool machines that have literal evidentiary photos and research. Plant medicine is re-emerging bringing back science from the 50's and 60's that worked to effectively eradicate conditions! We are all healers! But, we are separate, and based on subjective perception, probably not equal. One modality, by itself cannot untangle every relationship pattern, process every painful experience, answer every existential question or address every source of suffering. Sometimes people need therapy. Sometimes they need a different medication strategy, a deeper evaluation, or support navigating a major life transition. Sometimes they are curious about emerging treatments and need someone who can help them separate legitimate possibilities from hype.

I became increasingly interested in what happens when psychiatric care is both scientifically grounded and genuinely individualized, and completely selfless—when we stop asking, “What treatment do we use for this diagnosis?” and start asking, “What does this person actually need and if I can't provide it, how do I get them to someone who can?”

That is why I created Apotheosis.

Apotheosis is meant to bridge the gap between traditional psychiatry and the many other avenues that may support healing. It is a place for thoughtful evaluation, honest conversations and care that recognizes the whole person—not just the symptoms that brought them through the door.

My role is not to sell everyone on the same treatment or promise a quick transformation. It is to listen carefully, provide responsible psychiatric care, explain the options clearly and help each person determine what makes sense for them. When another approaches may be more appropriate, I want to connect patients with qualified professionals who can provide it.

I created Apotheosis because I believe mental health care should be more personal, more curious and more collaborative. You should not have to choose between conventional care and exploring other possibilities. You should not have to feel dismissed because your experience does not fit neatly into a checklist.

Most of all, I want every patient to feel seen—and to leave knowing they have options.