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Valentine’s Day is coming up. As both a schizoaffective and just as a regular person, I have a lot to say about Valentine’s Day, but what I have to say might surprise you.
Broaching a sensitive topic like self-injury can be daunting. On the one hand, talking about self-harm is often an important part of the healing process, but on the other hand, it can feel a bit like trekking across a field filled with landmines. If you're worried about how to talk about self-harm, here's what not to say—and a few suggestions for what to try instead.
The purpose of this post is not to promote or denounce anxiety medication or cannabidiol (CBD), as taking medication and supplements is a personal decision to be made with medical advice. Instead, it's to inform you of a potentially dangerous interaction that not even all medical professionals are fully aware of: CBD is not safe to ingest if you take a medication that carries a grapefruit warning.
Someone commented on a recent blog post about asking for help with low self-esteem and said they could not find support from their friends and family. So today, I will share three resources that helped support me in times when my self-esteem was low.
My family and I have recently dealt with a little problem that pops up randomly and unexpectedly: my little boy with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) has been telling lies. He lies about things he would not even get in trouble for if he told the truth, which makes the situation even more frustrating. I started wondering, though, if this behavior is linked to his ADHD. Is there a connection between childhood ADHD and lying, and what can I do to tackle the issue?
When I get stressed out, I clean and organize my stuff. Sometimes I take most of the day to organize all the junk in my room, and very few things help me feel better.
This month, I've had some serious challenges with my mental health, but I've responded to these challenges in much healthier ways than I have in the past, which means I am celebrating small recovery wins. Even if these things might not seem worth celebrating to others, I know that for me, they are a big deal, and I'm going to treat them that way.
This past year was extremely difficult. Many good things happened throughout the year, but my family and I also went through some tough times. As so many recently have, we experienced loss. As a result, I would be remiss if I did not talk about how grief has impacted my anxiety and vice versa. Experiencing loss has made me stop to think about the emotional journey of grief. Furthermore, experiencing loss and the process of grief has taught me how to cope when enduring a deep ocean of emotions, which can be difficult to surface from.
My name is Kelly Epperson, and I am very excited to join HealthyPlace as a contributor to the "Coping with Depression" blog. I suffered from postpartum depression after the birth of my children in 2012 and 2014. I will be sharing my experience with this illness and strategies that helped me cope.
It's critical to have a support system when you have bipolar disorder. Support systems, in fact, are very important for every person, but they're even more so when you have a serious mental illness. But the questions people sometimes ask are what is a bipolar support system, how do I get one and how do I use it. 

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Tali
I look forward to being unconscious for 4-6 hours every night (if I'm lucky). I don't dream. It's the only relief I have. I used to enjoy video games, but my husband hated me playing them so I gave them up. I had my own business but my husband told me I had to stop, so I did. He walks out on me whenever I don't do what he wants. He's allowed to have hobbies and I better not complain, just take care of the kids. My whole life had to be given up because it suits him and I've become nothing more than a maid and a babysitter. I love my kids but I just don't think I can take him finding some new thing to take away every September when he starts ignoring all of us because of the fair he acts in every year that time. He straight out told me this year he loves fair more than me. I don't have anything left to try for, I'm not a young lady anymore. I don't want to die, but I don't want to live...live...survive anymore. I doubt what I've been doing can be qualified as living. Thing is the rest of the year he's good to us. But somehow it's always me, I'm the problem, he just turns it around. Always carry on, carried on before, like a machine. This time I don't have it in me. I swear if he says one more time to me if doesn't get to do one of his many hobbies he'll get depressed and kill himself I'm just going to lose it. He doesn't care what I've been carrying these past 12 years. Doubt he noticed. He didn't notice when he left for fair with me fresh out of abdominal surgery to take care of a newborn, 1 year old, and 3 kids under 10. Apparently it interfered with him so much he was annoyed with me for not being fully healed from it after only one week. Not sure who told him people heal from major surgery in a week, but whatever. I doubt he even notices unless it inconveniences him, but he'll only get mad if it does. I wish I had some helpful or inspiring words, but I don't. I'm just existing with no reason anymore. I had reasons before, but they don't make sense anymore. I want to cry, but even that is too much effort.
Roxie S. Mitchell
Exactly what I needed to read right now. After all, I've grown up being abused and then screamed at for crying afterwards, so this article is very insightful because it helps us realize that crying is actually a normal part of being a human. Thank you for this!
Sandy G.
To Kelly Torbitz-Your parents punished you properly by making you wear the diaper and rubberpants.As a mom,i have heard of older girls being punished with diapers and rubberpants and i think it helps shape them up.The diapers and rubberpants are not only worn for punishment,but also to make girls feel cute and little girlish.
Word Warrior Mama
On the other hand . . .

I read this book many years ago, just as I was entering the turmoil of remembering, questioning and doubting myself all the way (as I'd been covertly taught over a lifetime). I happened to mention to my two sisters one day, "This is so strange but I've been diagnosed with PTSD." Both my sisters surprised me by responding, "Me too."

THEN I happened upon an old book manuscript that my now deceased father had written (not published), wherein the protagonist was obviously based upon himself and he rapes his "fiancee," who had my unusual name. Yes, truly.

Then I made myself look at the peculiar memory I always had where he violently threatened me but somehow I had never been able to recall what came before or after the episode. I had to admit that was a bit strange.

The pressures and powers to forget sexual abuse are great, both in family and society. In fact, I've come to the sad conclusion that the vast majority of survivors never really deal with their childhood wounds (a neglect for which there are always repercussions).

To critique an encouragement of people trusting their intuition in such matters is really getting the prescription dangerously wrong.
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!