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As someone who started flirting with anorexic behaviors in early adolescence, I have cycled in and out of many toxic, compulsive traits over the years. But although I consider myself to be in a stable, consistent recovery mindset now, the competitive nature of my eating disorder still pulls me back into its orbit sometimes. In fact, I noticed this competitive streak reassert itself as recently as last night.
Nobody is perfect. Another way of saying that is: everybody makes mistakes. They're an opportunity for growth—something about failing forward, or, without mistakes, there is no progress, and so on. Some people take their mistakes in stride, learning the lessons and moving forward, seemingly unconcerned. As for me, whenever I make or may make a mistake, I deal with anxiety bombs of varying sizes that go off inside me, rendering me twitchy, edgy, and generally a mess.
All too often, borderline personality disorder (BPD) and suicidal ideation go hand-in-hand, and I am no exception. I am grateful today that I survived my childhood and early adult years, but it was not easy. This is my experience with suicide before I knew I had BPD. (Note: This post contains a trigger warning.)
I recently traveled from Scotland to my parent's house in Ireland. While it was great to see everyone, trips home aren't always smooth sailing when you have attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD).
I've been on and off dating apps for many years. I joined a few of them again recently, and I've been struggling to decide how much to share about myself and my mental health, both on my profiles and in the messages I send.
In middle school, I struggled to learn as quickly as most of my classmates. Sometimes, I could not finish all my in-class assignments during the school day. So I added them to my homework folder. As my homework folder thickened, my anxiety increased. Looking back, several strategies helped me get through my homework anxiety. Continue reading this post to learn about five of those methods.
It's critical we understand our most important tool. I'm talking about your brain, of course, the very organ that mental wellbeing—and its antithesis, mental illness—originate from. Now, plenty of ink more knowledgeable than mine has been spilled on this subject; a quick Google search will tell you almost anything you want to know about the flesh wad in your head. What I want to do today isn't give you a lesson that Wikipedia could deliver better. Instead, I want to offer you a perspective you'd be hard-pressed to find amidst the citations. I want to help you understand your brain.
My name is Rebecca Chamaa, and I am excited to start writing for the blog "Creative Schizophrenia." I hope to share parts of my life and illness with you to understand better what living with schizophrenia can look like for someone who has dealt with mental illness for almost 30 years.
Life can get hard when things don't go as planned, and this is one of those situations. After writing for HealthyPlace about depression for three years and four months, I had no idea my journey would be cut short. Due to worsening mental health struggles, I have decided to stop writing about depression as an act of self-care. This is my last post for the "Coping with Depression" blog, and I want to express my gratitude to team HealthyPlace and my readers. 
For some people, fading self-harm scars are a cause for celebration, but for others, fading self-inury scars can be a surprising and profound source of grief.

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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!