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I spend a lot of time complaining about the ignorance of others--those who don't understand pediatric psychiatric illness and, therefore, use my child to educate themselves (or, even worse, try to educate me about my child). Particularly bothersome are people who seem to think every. single. undesirable behavior is directly related to Bob's psychiatric diagnoses (bipolar disorder and ADHD). It's maddening trying to explain to them not every issue is Bob-specific, that some behaviors are common to all children. It's even worse when the offender is...me.
People throw around the word “depression” as if that word means only one thing. This is far from the case, therapeutically speaking. I would suggest there are mild, moderate or severe, relapsing/remitting or chronic depressions. Doing the basic math, that’s six types right there and we haven’t even taken into account treatment-resistant depression, or the depression subtypes noted in the DSM. Depression is not a disease; it’s a cluster of diseases.
The Courage to Heal is a self-help book – “A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse” - that has enjoyed widespread popularity among both those living with Dissociative Identity Disorder and many of their treatment providers since its first publication in 1988. I first read it six years ago and found it helpful in some ways. But subsequent readings have illuminated for me the book’s biggest flaw: its reckless approach to traumatic memory.
Managing anxiety: "Sitting with emotion"? Totally useless chapter in The Psychiatrists' Guide to WTF is Up with My Brain (AKA DSM-IV), or are people greater than the sum of their parts? Sometimes I get so anxious I don't know what to do, so I won't do anything. Just in case I make things worse, or my fears are true. How do you deal with the very real issues that keep you stuck in old patterns, between a rock and a wall of ever more intolerable panic? Psychologists talk about learning to be with anxiety. But it's an idea, a theory, and I can't always do it.
This week I am fortunate to be in New Hampshire on business. (How fun was it to write that statement?! Me on a business trip!) I used to think I would never have a job that I love that allowed me to travel even sporadically, but I do, and I am grateful. Yesterday, our facilitator mentioned a factor of leadership which was "information-seeking questions" and how to ask them without making the person you're asking feel defensive. The problem is in the wording. For example, a question beginning with "Why do you...?", especially when asked during a personal conflict, can easily escalate the conversation into anger and defensiveness. Why?
Recently, I welcomed a baby boy into my life and have been simply exhausted. It’s been a whirlwind of activity and emotions. With the constant visitors, it’s been a struggle just trying to establish a new schedule for my family (which consists of my husband, 18 month daughter and new baby), and just trying to stay awake and feel half-human again. Believe me, nobody feels sexy after not showering for two days, having 3 hours of sleep, and wearing a shirt covered in baby poop and spit-up.
On March 6, 2006, Paula Hardin said her good-byes and shot herself in the chest. Three days later, she woke up. It was the second time she'd attempted suicide, the second time she'd lived on in spite of herself.
Charlie Sheen's recent remarks may seen funny to some, but when I look at his statements and actions, to me they scream mania, a symptom of bipolar disorder.
Procrastination; call it delaying, stalling, postponing or just killing time. Gathering details is what I called it and procrastination resulted in this article. It was on my “To Do” list for days. There it remained until my discipline kicked in, and the writing began. Sort of, I had started two other articles, I could not finish until I worked on this particular one.
I love to read, especially books that make me think and offer perfectionism self-help for, well, perfectionism. One of my much-loved treasures is Bushido: The Way of the Samurai. This book is based on the Hagakure, and is a philosophy of Eighteenth-Century Japanese warriors. Here's some perfection self-help I can pass on from Japanese warriors.

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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!