Psychiatric advance directives are not something people talk about enough. Psychiatric medication has saved my life and helped me to function and participate in events and daily activities that I wouldn't be able to do without it. It also saved my marriage and allowed me to have successful relationships with friends and family. I believe my medication is why I do as well as I do (which isn't always great, but I have joy-filled days and many accomplishments that I can be proud of, given limitations). I want to communicate these things to doctors because medication is necessary for my treatment. I can do this by formulating a psychiatric advance directive.

Emotional resilience when a relationship ends is important if challenging. As someone with borderline personality disorder (BPD), the ending of relationships feels no short of an existential nightmare. The grief isn't just about losing someone; it's about losing the version of me that I molded to fit within that love story. Post-breakup, I feel like I'm looking at my reflection in a funhouse mirror. What stares back is distorted, confusing, and sometimes downright unrecognizable.

How do you feel about having too much information (TMI)? The ease with which we can communicate and learn in our world of ever-developing technology is astounding. At any time of day, virtually limitless information and entertainment are accessible at the touch of a button. But is having boundless knowledge so readily available a good thing, or is TMI making us unhappy?

Have you ever wondered about repeat offenders? It is not uncommon to hear about folks who get in legal trouble for using drugs or alcohol, and instead of remaining sober, they go back out and use again. It is difficult to understand how someone can keep engaging in the same behavior after losing everything. Repeat offenders are often called selfish and ungrateful. But what if the opposite is true? What if repeat offenders need compassion just like everyone else? 

You can reclaim your power after trauma, although it can be challenging. A common issue I battle from my posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is the feeling of powerlessness. I've found it's hard to foster empowerment after enduring a difficult or complex trauma — even when it gets set off years later. While PTSD might be an ongoing battle for many, with the effects of trauma often lingering, there are ways you can lessen its weight. Here are six habits I've been practicing to help reclaim my power.

I wouldn't say it's always a gift to have bipolar disorder, but I do believe it's a gift to receive a bipolar disorder diagnosis. A diagnosis can help you come to terms with the mental health disorder that you have and receive the right kind of support, such as therapy and medication. I have seen the power of a diagnosis in other people and myself. I suffered for years, not knowing why I felt so depressed with frequent suicidal thoughts. Once I received a diagnosis, I could then set up a plan to receive the most suitable support for me.

Living with an illness can be exhausting and defeating for anyone, especially someone healing from verbal abuse. When you are sick, the mind may explore possible outcomes, no matter how unlikely they may be. Unfortunately, the brain can be hard to shut off, particularly when the body is battling an illness. 

A key strategy that I have found helpful for my anxiety has been journaling. Whether I am in the middle of an unexpected stressful situation or have encountered something that has triggered my anxiety, journaling helps to reduce my anxiety symptoms.

There is a bridge from alcoholism to recovery. I could best describe my active alcoholism as a series of flaming dumpster fires and broken, smoldering bridges. Conversely, my recovery is more about building new bridges and slowly dusting off the debris from the burned ones from my past. For me, regular self-evaluation helps me pinpoint my mental health status. I do this because better mental health bridges the gap between my recovery and alcoholism.

Over the past week, I have been reflecting on the acute but nuanced complexity of living in a woman's body. (That is, anyone who identifies as a woman, including those in the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, plus [LGBTQ+] community.) This isn't a new revelation, of course. I've written about how sexism fuels eating disorder behaviors and my own experiences to corroborate that. But I often shove any potential threat of bodily harm, control, or objectification to the margins of my subconscious in order to function as a human. Most women I know default to this coping mechanism as well. However, thanks to a recent global controversy, I (and countless others) am once again forced to reckon with the complexity of living in a woman's body.