Blogs
I encourage parents to step up early and with urgency when a child has an eating disorder. Sometimes, for various reasons, this encouragement gets me into trouble.
ADHD runs through a family tree like a clown car in a china shop. What ADHD tales do you have from your family tree?
When I was a kid, show and tell created the most memorable moments in school. Not the tell part. The tell was boring. We heard about Betty going to a “real, real fun zoo” and Bobby getting a new bike; this information made us shift in our seats, roll our eyes, and make funny faces at whoever was talking. But the showing, now that was great. We got to touch a slimy frog, hear Cathy scream as a budgie landed in her hair and be frightened as a snake’s tongue lashed out in front of us. Showing was where the action was.
But with mental illness, it’s never the show that people want, only the tell. People are frightened by, and run from, the show.
I have tried to write another blog post, several times, but can't get anywhere. This happens when I'm trying to avoid something: I stumble over it anyway. There is no avoiding it: I went to a funeral this weekend of a young woman killed by anorexia and I'm sad and I'm mad and I'm sad again and I don't see how to think about anything else.
If you have ADHD, then you are probably well aware of your mind's ability to hyperfocus on absolute wastes of time. You may even specialize in it, wasting time with such flare that your unemployed friends marvel at you. Video games are my weakness. I usually avoid them, but occasionally I get sucked in and have to turn to drastic measures to pull myself out.
I have to admit that I completely failed to stay upbeat and positive. All I could think was "When will this end‽" It always ends, like a passing storm in the night. Terrible while overhead, but soon forgotten in the beautiful morning that follows. My "morning" started at 7:15pm Thursday night.
Adventures in Bipolar Diagnosis continued from part one...
Lamictal was indeed a miracle for me. It allowed me to finish my bachelor’s degree, get a job in my field, and even become a skydiver. In retrospect, it was an amazing time to be me, to be in remission.
Everything was good, until it wasn’t. I felt myself slipping about two years into the Lamictal treatment. For no known reason, the medication simply stopped working. This is a common problem with psychotropic meds and something else no one likes to mention.
Amanda_HP
PTSD is an extremely challenging condition and people with post-traumatic stress disorder face the added stress of PTSD symptoms such as nightmares, insomnia, flashbacks, rage, intrusive thoughts and more on a regular basis. This week, on the HealthyPlace Mental Health TV Show, we'll explore the causes and impact of PTSD and how you can deal with trauma in your life with Drs. Rosemary Lichtman and Phyllis Goldberg. You can read more about them at the bottom of this post.
I'm an optimistic person and an activist by nature. I'd rather talk about what we, as parents, CAN do than what NOT to do. But sometimes doing less is not only best, it is lifesaving.
This past weekend, I attended a 2 day photography workshop. I picked this particular workshop because it wasn't too far away from where I lived. I paid for it over a month in advance and I was really looking forward to it. I knew when I paid, I would cross my fingers that my hubby would be in town to watch the little one, but that he could possibly be gone as well. Sure enough, the day before the workshop, he had to fly out of town at the last minute for the entire weekend. It made things complicated; which was what I wanted to avoid.
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.
Thanks!