Let me stress this: Do Not Self-Medicate Mental Illness. This is obvious, right? It should be simple. Why make things more complicated? Being diagnosed with mental illness is crazy enough, so why do a large portion of people, statistically, abuse drugs and alcohol? I'm human and sometimes I hurt. Just like you do. A few years ago: I have not slept in three days, maybe four. Sheets hang on my windows. The light stings my dilated eyes. I wince, even among the relative darkness I have created. I have not eaten in days; I drink water tainted with vitamins hoping that's enough.It's been days of drugs and of alcohol. I am surprised I have not died yet. For many years, that was my life. That was my way of dealing with the diagnosis. I hid behind drugs and alcohol because, in my mind, I would rather be an addict and alcoholic than to be bipolar.

What is happiness? It's a rhetorical question like those I've avoided since University classes. I don't like questions that have no answer. It seems ridiculous: Why would a question have no answer? Good question. So, let's dive right in. What is happiness (and why do we have to find it anyway)?

R.E.L.A.P.S.E. Seven letters. Just seven. This seems impossible: the experience of mental illness relapse requires millions of words. As many words as the emotions it evokes, the pain it causes and the feeling that, you, that I, cannot escape. The fear of mental illness relapse isn't lessened by knowing recovery will follow.

As if dealing with a diagnosis of mental illness is not hard enough, many of us are confronted with a feeling that we do not belong in our family, within our peer group -- we feel different. I'm pretty sure there is no definition for 'the black sheep syndrome' but, just in case, let me refer to my trusted thesaurus.

It would be lovely if the diagnosis of mental illness came with a prescription for recovery that was given to all of us. Diagnosed with bipolar disorder? take this pill, you will be fine. You will be recovered! That would be nice, perfect, what a fantastic dream! Then you wake up. You take your medication. That's the reality. Recovery is different for all of this: treatment is never the same. Some of us, once diagnosed and treated, experience no symptoms of all. On the flip side, some of us struggle on a day to day basis.

Analyzing "Talk" Some people like chocolate and some people like going to movies. Me, well, I like my thesaurus. I like things like this: certain pens, books, a 5,000 page book full of words that connect to words that mean, pretty much, the same damn thing. So, fueled by caffeine, I look up the word talk (and here is to hoping a few you like words, sort of), and am confronted with a whole slew of them.

Usually, and with any luck, life moves smoothly. When you have a mental illness, the road is probably a little bumpier than you would like, but certain things remain the same. The time you wake-up and the time you fall asleep. The food you like to eat and the food you avoid. The people in your life who mean the most. The music you like and the hobbies you have. It is these things, little things, that make life easier, enjoyable. Life Does Not Always Remain Comfortable

You are sitting in your psychiatrist's office. The office is large. Her desk sits in the corner near the window. The blinds are always closed. The halogen lights seem much too bright--they hurt your eyes. Eyes that constantly threaten to close, and you wish you were back home where it is safe and dark. Back home where you can pretend there is nothing wrong. But there is: that is why you are sitting across from your doctor, across the small oval table. You glance at the stagnant art and your heart races. Your hands sweat. Your mind moves too quickly and then not fast enough.

Curing mental illness is simply not possible--despite limited controversy. That's the cold and hard truth. On the flip side, we can become well and experience very little, or no symptoms at all. That is the goal. How can we pursue it?

I usually choose a specific topic for these blogs and work to describe the importance of managing and accepting mental illness. Last week, I wrote a blog focusing on recovering from and recognizing depression. This week, based on my life currently, I want to talk about stress and the impact it has on those who live with mental illness. I am really struggling with this right now.