Perspective is grand.Not being depressed right now, but looking back over the last 20 years of my adult lifetime and the seasons of my life where I had depression, has given me perspective.There is a lot written currently to bring awareness and understanding to mental illness, and this is very good.Please understand that what I’m about to say is not meant in any way to downplay the very real struggles of those with significant (and there is no insignificant — it’s all real) mental illness....more
I am a wife, a stay-at-home mom, a writer, and a comedian.And, finally, after far too long, I am also an advocate for mental health.You see, I am a medicated momma. And I am tired of being ashamed....more
Some nights, taking care of your mental health means vanilla scented candles and a long bath. On other nights, taking care of your mental health means forcing yourself to do your fucking laundry. I’m in the middle of the first depressive episode I’ve had in nearly a month — in a new city I just moved to, far from the people I’ve known my whole life. I try not to work on these pieces while in such a bad mindset because, well, they usually turn out to be bummers. ...more
Originally posted at Girl Gone Feral - July 6, 2016.I’m afraid of the dark. In the dark, my imagination runs wild. I imagine I can see red eyes staring at me from the corner of the room or that if I look out a dark window too long, something will appear, staring back at me. I won’t sleep with a foot or a hand hanging over the edge of the bed in case something under the bed reaches up and drags me under....more
The heat makes me feel the way I do when I’m having an anxiety or panic attack... Basically, it's awful. Everyone hates the cold, right? This girl doesn’t! For as long as I can remember, I’ve been intensely affected by heat and the sun.Passing out (or feeling like I’m going to pass out) has been an on-and-off-again summertime occurrence....more
Summer always makes me long for the beach.I hear the crash of the waves on the shore, the cry of the gull in the sky, and the laughter of my children on the sand. I feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, I smell the scent of sunscreen on the breeze and taste the salt in the air. When I open my eyes, however, I see laundry. And dishes. And more laundry. ...more
As a child I lived in darkness and filth. My mother was a hoarder, an alcoholic, and suffered from mental illness - probably a personality disorder of some sort. While she loved me very much, she was psychologically abusive to me and created an environmentally-hostile home for me to live in. She spent many daylight hours asleep, but I wasn't allowed to play outside because she was afraid something would happen to me.
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