Blogs
I'm having a bit of trouble leaving the rules of my marriage behind me. You see, when I was married, I was to be forever less than him. My job was to focus my energies on making him seem and look better - more capable, responsible, trustworthy... It was my job to prop him up to the outside world. He was a poster-board life-size cut-out, smiling and looking grand, and I was the plain cardboard stand sticking in his rear, supporting him.
Thanksgiving is a special time when family members, spread far and wide across this great land of ours, unite under one roof to dine, catch up, and recall exactly why it is they are so careful to avoid one another the rest of the year.
Those of us strangely blessed with mental illnesses of various descriptions are especially vulnerable, since these allegedly cheerful events feel more like crime scene reconstructions where the horrors that sent us running down the path to Cookoopantsatopolis are revisited endlessly.
Seated at the table, any progress made in therapy over the past year seems to magically melt away. Before long we find ourselves reclaiming emotional baggage we’re desperate to abandon. No matter how far we’ve progressed in life, there, seated in front of that defenseless avian carcass, we’re seven again; and it ain’t pretty.
Small wonder so many of us cringe as we witness the approach of Thanksgiving, contemplating the event with a dread one might reserve for dentistry without anesthesia.
It's easy to get into the habit of not addressing your needs when you have anxiety. I'm yet to meet someone dealing with anxiety who doesn't know 200 ways to say "I'm fine" to paint a rosy picture of life. But treating anxiety is about understanding your reality, not what a perfect reality might be or the reality Jo Normal experiences.
My name is Dan Hoeweler, and if you were to meet me in person, I would seem like your average eccentric artist. I am in many ways undeniably ordinary. I live in a house with my cat Mr Giggles, who I deeply love. I have many friends and work as a janitor at an amusement park, and have been there for three years now without incident. I, with the help of my family, have been purchasing and renovating houses together during the winter time. I blend in fairly well in most situations, and if you were to talk to me you might find me somewhat intelligent and charming.
When your child has a psychiatric illness, your plate fills rather quickly--psychiatrist appointments, therapist appointments, IEP meetings, trips to the pharmacy and the never-ending juggling of prescription medications. But there are other things crowding the china--things like medication side effects--we may have no idea how to handle, even if we feel we've "mastered" all there is to know about our child's diagnosis.
Children with mental illness experience myriad side effects that create even more problems for them and their parents; one in particular has hit us the hardest. In our house, the most persistent medication side effect is bedwetting. And it's driving us all crazy.
One of the problems with borderline personality disorder (BPD) is the ease with which we believe harmful core beliefs. It's as if we think that they are the insight of the century. But believing something does not automatically make it true--not everything you think is trustworthy. Here are six steps to changing a harmful core belief.
Driving through rural Alabama to a funeral recently, I saw a rare and really cool sight. A cropduster was plunging down toward a cotton field, spraying it with what I can only guess was some sort of herbicide. The deft pilot would swoop down just above the power lines, buzz the field and spray the crops, and then lift high into the air to avoid the tree line at the other end of the field.
It got me to thinking. That’s what psychiatrists must feel like. They don’t fly planes to treat their patients, but they must play a precarious game with the fragile mental health of patients like me who suffer from depression. It takes just the right balance and adjustments to keep our medications right.
I have been burdened with side effects since the day I took my first psychotropic medication some 13 years ago. At that time the medication I was on made it impossible for me to be awake, pretty much ever. I had no idea how much hell I was in for and my doctor didn't seem to believe me when I told him about it. So I did the responsible thing - I just kept taking the medication, hoped the treatment would work and that the side effects would go away.
But that's mostly because I didn't know what I was doing. Today I know that severe side effects are something that we choose and are not something that is thrust upon us. We choose what we can live with, even tacitly, always have, always will.
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?
This concept of “hitting rock bottom” is a common phrase in addiction awareness, intervention, treatment, media, etc. People often have a story of their rock bottom. However what exactly is a rock bottom and how important is it in recovery from an addiction and getting sober?
My point being, I'm right there with you. I hate the rollercoaster. I just want to live life without being in a state of constant fight or flight mode, only for his character to change and de-escalate and I fall for the person I fell for all over again.
Exhausting is a horrible word. The understatement of all understatements, if you will.
I wish there were better support groups for this kind of mental health condition.