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Try an experiment: Of the four pictures below, which do you think is representative of someone with mental illness? There can be more than one answer, but don't overthink this: just follow your gut instinct.
If you’re a regular reader of my blog then you know that my posts center on addiction-based topics.  Whether it is relapse prevention, the War on Drugs, or 12-Step recovery, I try to convey a consistent message.  This week I’d like to continue by looking at addiction recovery through a different lens: wellness.  Wellness is typically defined as being comprised of the physical, spiritual, and emotional  aspects of one’s life (there are other definitions that also include social, vocational, and financial wellness as well).
I’ve survived episodes of major depression, mania and anxiety, but none of them changed my perception of the world as much as my three month battle with psychosis at the age of 18. All mental illness carries its own difficulties and stigmas, but I feel that there is a special sort of stigma that is created by psychosis. Whereas most mental illnesses are hidden, psychosis is in your face, impossible to overlook, unpredictable. It changes you and changes the people around you.
I’m a mental health writer and I have a mental illness, so, of course, I write about my mental illness. I write about my symptoms and the affect they have on my life. I write about their treatments and their success or lack thereof. I write about what it’s like to have bipolar disorder. And boy do people feel fine about judging me for it. Commonly people will say that I don’t have bipolar disorder (being, I’m sure, expert diagnosticians) or say that I’m an idiot (and whatnot) for trying the treatments I have. It’s gotten so bad, in fact, that some things I don’t like to talk about at all. People like to attack me for electroconvulsive therapy and vagus nerve stimulator use specifically. And I don’t like to talk about self-harm, because inevitably people yell about that. But I learned something earlier this week – not everyone judges people with a mental illness.
Let me stress that by "friends" I do not mean you should ask he or she out for coffee or maybe to a movie. Refrain from a discussion focused on the new recipes you thought up and the shoes you found half off on the weekend... My Experience With My Psychiatrist
For those of us who struggle with mental illness it is important to remember that even the darkest night is followed by the warmth of day; in other words, all things, even the most wretched things, end. Let’s consider this for a moment. The Dark Ages ended, heck, even the Middle Ages ended – as a matter of fact I think mine ended about 15 minutes ago, making way for the onslaught of decrepitude referred to collectively as Old Age. The careers of Frank Sinatra, Jerry Lewis and even The Three Stooges all came to a close; so remember, never abandon hope. Nightmares do end.
Dear Mr. President: Congratulations on your recent victory. Now, as you plan the next four years, I'd like to offer a few suggestions on how you can help those of us living with mental illness. Fight for parity in mental health treatment, work to reform the fragmented mental health system, and attack the stigma behind mental illness.
Learn how giving back to your community, volunteering, and contributing to the greater good can build self-esteem and a positive relationship with yourself.
This comment came from a reader, Nikky44 who lived through the Lebanese war. I had an explanation that I thought I'd share with all of you. I was discussing this morning with my sister some events of the past. We both noticed having the same memories of the same events, but the parts each one of us remembered is different, opposite. If we think for example of the day of an explosion, she would remember how we escaped, and all the positive side of it, I would remember the fear, the destruction, the death. I don’t know how to explain that now.
So many of the survivors I work with and talk to express the same idea: There are more than one of me in here! Technically, they don’t mean there’s more than one personality inside their mind, so what do they mean?

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Bella
Hi, Kayla. What is the first step that I need to do in order to stop biting myself and creating alarming bruises that I can't explain, or don't want to explain?
Bella
Is biting yourself till the point of where you get severely bruised, considered self-harm, or no?
Amy
I ate Healthy Choice Beef Merlot tonight. I did not even think about the fact it had Merlot in it!
I haven't had a drink in 9 years and two months.
I Googled everything on the subject and have come to the conclusion it is not a relapse.
However, I am going to read labels more carefully!
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!