Blogs
I was asked the other day “is full recovery from addiction possible?” and that is the question that consistently is asked, and needs to be consistently addressed, because those who struggle with addiction, eating disorders, self-harm, etc. truly need to hear an answer from those whom are in recovery from addiction or recovered. Anyone who follows me on Twitter, or reads my blogs, knows that I believe in full addiction recovery. I know it is possible not only because I am living proof, but because I see people daily who are also living proof.
In my exploration of the psychotic mind, I use poetry as a tool in conveying the terror, irrationality and subtle complexities of psychosis in schizophrenia. Some of this poetry has ended up in the confines of horror magazines, literary journals and street papers. These words are derived not from fictional tales nor lost love, but from true horror deep within my own mind. I bring you to them now in this article, dedicated to the millions with schizophrenia who are haunted by these terrors daily.
"Why raise the bridge when you can lower your expectations of the river?" Taz Mopula
You may be surprised to learn that even the irrational, off-kilter, cattywhumpus and – yes, I’ll say it – whackadoomius among us gaze upon the vast, blank canvas of an unused year and think to ourselves – how can I do better?
Of course, in our case this means – how can I be an even shinier wing nut, a more twisted slinky?
Way back when, Mark Twain reminded us, “It isn’t easy being eccentric.” This observation is as true today as it was when he said it – which is why I’ve had a good long look my own shortcomings and failures in 2011 and put together a list of resolutions which – with luck – will make my humble blog even funnier in the weeks and months to come.
*continued from Part 1*
Last week, I was ruminating on whether or not to select special education as an area of teaching specialization. It may or may not surprise you that I've decided against teaching special education.
We're not doomed to go through life constantly ready to explode.
I am certain many people can relate to this topic when connected to mental illness. In my life, feeling disconnected from people occurred at times that defined large changes in my life--when coming to terms with diagnosis, working to recover, and finally to reach a level of acceptance.
Before Diagnosis
A long time ago, I hooked up with another stellar soldier, Will, who quickly morphed into my abuser. When we met, the future I imagined for myself was divided. It was a toss-up between doing my time in the Army then going to college and embracing the military life I'd come to love and making it my career. I was undecided, and my imagination, fluid as it was, didn't include my future reality.
However, Will certainly fit the profile for my imagined boyfriend! He was an excellent soldier, strong, assertive - a great protector. He was my dream brought into reality. I felt blessed.
I listened to him. I adored him. He was my hero.
Coming out of the closet as someone with a mental illness was challenging for me. Even so, I wasn’t a successful psychotherapist with a nearly 25 year career under my belt. Dr. Carolyn Dobbins, however, is. Dr. Dobbins has schizoaffective disorder and her recently published book, What A Life Can Be, gives us all a revealing look at what that’s like for her.
Happy new year to everyone. Thanks to all for joining me for a wonderful year of information, interaction and debate. I have learned a lot and I hope you have too. But in case you missed it, here are the top ten articles people were reading from Breaking Bipolar last year:
Lots of people take the last week of the year to reflect on the past and to look ahead to a new year where things are going to be different, dammit. Those of you who have bipolar depression with a soupcon of borderline personality disorder – like me – might even spend a day alone fixating on what they did wrong this year. And, if you’re anything like me, relationships probably take up the majority of your obsession time.
I also have DID. And I know that it is not safe for people or animals to live with me. This is just the facts and it’s devastating. I know that to be ethical and non-harming I have to live alone. To see me, I look kind and sweet. And parts of me are. But not all the parts. I’ve been officially diagnosed and in therapy over two years, and even if we all heal, I don’t think it’s worth the risk that I could hurt or kill somebody. Some risks can be taken, but I don’t think I could say, ‘hey- let’s move in together. By the way I had violent tendencies but I think I have it taken care of. You ok with that?’