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I've been ruminating my return to the workforce for the past few months, and have made a decision--I will be returning to work, but not in the same capacity. After taking required coursework necessary to supplement my degree, I plan to teach.
I've been substitute teaching in our public school district since November, giving me an opportunity to "try on" grade levels and subjects. Because of my experiences with Bob (my son diagnosed with bipolar disorder and ADHD), I've been told I should teach special ed. I've been told I'd be great with special ed.
I just don't think I want to teach special ed.
New Year's is not such a bad time. It's about looking back and learning, I think. We can look back over the year and determine why we did what we did and what it is we should do about it. It's about new beginnings, fresh beginnings, a clean slate. All of that is lovely really.
But with all that comes the dreaded New Year's resolution - the thing we say, hand to heart, that we will endeavour to do in the following year. But really, these resolutions have a negative impact on the mentally ill.
It’s cocktail season. And that means millions will drink too much, including people who suffer from depression.
While having a drink can relieve anxiety—at least temporarily—abuse of alcohol can make us even more depressed. And though pop culture paints a decidedly different picture, alcohol is actually a depressant. It’s not a stimulant.
This blog, Recovering from Mental Illness, allows me to explore many different topics. This post, "Visualizing Mental Illness" might be a bit tough to delve into, but I believe it's an important, albeit confusing, issue. Let's give it a fair shot.
There was a recent study done at the University of Kentucky that looked at what trait would make people more aggressive when drunk than when they are sober. It is important to look at the study data as well as the protocols to be able to analyze the study, its findings and implications.
My little boys' faces lit up each Christmas morning when they saw proof of Santa's handiwork. Those memories are some of my favorites, but I can't relive the entire Christmas morning memory without including my ex-husband's scathing words "Where the hell did we get this kind of money?!"...and right there, the warm memory turns cold.
During Christmas of 1992, I was fortunate to visit the Moulin Rouge - the hang out of one of my favorite artists, Henri Toulouse-Lautrec. Although I was going for the art, most of the tour group went for the show consisting of countless scantily clad women - a show I was uncomfortable with attending but thought it worth it to soak in the call-girl atmosphere Henri so enjoyed in his day.
As I buttoned my gorgeous purple pant-suit, my husband said, "Your butt is getting wide."
Many thanks to everyone who has read and commented here at Treating Anxiety over the past 18 months. This is my final post so Happy Holidays. Here’s hoping 2012 brings us peace, however small the moments in which it's found.
For all the closeness the Christmas period purports to bring into our lives it can also come with a dose of loneliness, the pang of isolation, or the strange unknowing of the world that is disconnection or dissociation. To counter that sort of thing I'll be participating in a mindfulness exercise of a global scale: A River of Stones.
I'd like to take this opportunity to be the 93,347th person to say "I'm so glad the holidays are over." Because I am. For a multitude of reasons.
Happy holidays, all. I am back from my family sojourn and feeling exhausted from it. Which is odd, actually, because nothing stressful happened. I worked, we ate, we played cards we pretended to be happy (some more than others) and the holiday passed by.
And a giant "meh" was heard by all.
And yet still I find myself crippled with exhaustion and stress post-holiday. Why, exactly, is that?
I love to pop some popcorn and watch an unassuming protagonist discover that his friends, his family, his whole life is not quite what it seems, and then go about the dangerous business of solving the mystery that has become his reality. Others may try to convince the hero that he’s confused or delusional, but part of what I love about a good psychological thriller is that the hero is always vindicated in the end. And while there are real people whose lives are as filled with conspiracy and intrigue as a box office hit, many of them are living in a false world made up of schizophrenic delusions. And it’s not a glamorous world. It’s a world fueled by mental illness, by the symptoms of schizophrenia.
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?’