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Individually, hating yourself and hurting yourself are difficult things to cope with. Simultaneously, though, self-harm and self-hate create a vicious cycle that can be challenging to break—but doing so is vital for healing and growth.
My history with therapy has been, to put it mildly, spotty. I’ve seen a number of therapists since I was a child, but I haven’t had good experiences with most of them – this was due to any number of factors ranging from some being incompatible with my personality to others literally causing me to cry after the session ended. Because of that, my desire to continue with any new therapist has not been strong. But because my mental health has been so unstable for a while now, I decided I needed to make a change. As of the end of last month, I decided to restart therapy, so this post will focus on that.
Therapy can be grueling sometimes. Anybody who tells you differently is either lying or trying to soften the blow. Regardless, they've done you a disservice, in my opinion. In order to reap the benefits of therapy, a commitment to work hard in partnership with your therapist is required. I've engaged in trauma therapy to help with my anxiety. My experience with eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR) trauma therapy is hard work that's paying off.
I have a few tattoos that symbolize the path I walked to heal from an eating disorder (ED). Some are more recognizable than others, but all of them are meaningful to me. However, with that being said, I've recently started to think twice before I discuss these ED recovery tattoos with acquaintances—or even friends—who ask about them.
I'm a person on the Internet, which means large corporations like Google and Facebook have likely collected enough data on me to recreate me as a Metaverse AI. The benefit of this is that my social media feeds are finely tuned to align with my interests, and Instagram recommends me products that I can't afford but definitely want. That said, I sometimes worry that the algorithms know me too well, especially when TikTok started showing me video after video of people discussing their attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD).
Before I recovered from binge eating disorder (BED), I would not have identified myself as a creative person. My identity at the time revolved around sports, athleticism, and my appearance as a student-athlete. This image I held onto kept me in an awful cycle of restricting and binge eating. I felt like I had to keep up an athletic appearance. After I graduated high school, I knew I'd outgrown my old identity, but I did not know where to begin outside of that structured model.
"He's totally psychotic." "My breakup was totally psycho." How many times have you heard those types of phrases? I've heard it many, many times. While it's pretty common these days to have some knowledge about mental illness terms, psycho, psychotic, and even psychosis tend not to be understood. Let's delve into the meanings of psycho, psychotic, and psychosis, both from a common vernacular point of view and from an accuracy point of view.
Ever since I was diagnosed with social anxiety disorder, I have always perceived my anxiety as a bully and as my worst enemy. I hated that I struggled with anxiety and wanted nothing more than to get rid of it. Why wouldn't I? After all, my anxiety had stolen many opportunities and experiences I could have had if it hadn't made my day-to-day social interactions so tough. However, all of this changed when I learned to acknowledge the ways in which my anxiety has helped me and started expressing gratitude towards my anxiety.
Allow me to join the chorus and say it’s Mental Health Awareness Month. Each year, the mental health community comes together during May to amplify the discussions around mental health to reduce the stigma of mental illness and show people they’re not alone in their struggles.
I believe there is nothing unprofessional in being honest about your mental health at work. Since emails are an official means of communication in workplaces everywhere, employees should ensure they are real. Of course, the onus is on the employer because anyone in a mental health-unfriendly organization will hesitate to disclose mental health issues. But this does not mean employees are powerless. And in a pandemic world, where more and more people are suffering from conditions like depression, genuine emails are crucial.

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Comments

Christina
I hear your voices. Can you please help me let me know what medication you’re on. You could save lives with this information. My email is christinacrawford555@hotmail.com
Thanks!
R
I just relapsed on my chest after a year :/
J
This is me exactly. I've been working on my mental health for years and I still can't get ANYTHING right so I've come to the conclusion today that the only choice left is to give up. I QUIT!!!
Nowell
I was sicker than I'd ever been. Debating on going into the hospital. I wanted to find him. He was somewhere in the house, but I was to sick to look for him. I wanted a simple hug. I was relieved when I saw him passing me . I was about to ask him for that hug. I'd been sick for way to long. Six weeks. I just wasn't healing. He looked at me and said, " your such a piece of sh*t. Can't you even heal?" The next time I'm sick I may not pull through.
Amber T.
Slumber party! I am 14 and attended a slumber party last weekend with four other girls and the host girl who is a puberty bedwetter. She wears a thick cloth diaper and rubberpants to bed every night that are put on her by her mom.Later on on saturday night,her mom called all of us into her bedroom and told us that to level the playing field,that we all had to wear a diaper and rubberpants also.Sarah,the host girl,was put into her diaper and rubberpants first,then the rest of us were told to pick out a pair of her rubberpants from her drawer,then we each had to lay on Sarah's bed and her mom babypowdered us,pinned the diaper on us then put the rubberpants on us over the diaper.It was quite different having the diaper and rubberpants on under my nightgown! All six of us looked like babies with the diaper and rubberpants on under under our pjs and nightgowns! Sarah's mom was happy that all six of us were in the diapers and rubberpants and we got silly and acted like babies!