Recently I was contacted by someone (let’s call her Ms. X) who wanted to end a friendship with a bipolar person and asked me how to do it with the least harm possible. I talked with Ms. X and it appears that her bipolar friend had been doing some very hurtful things. I asked Ms. X if she had talked to her friend about these things. Ms. X said that no, she hadn’t. So why is terminating a friendship preferable to talking about the problem?

Living with Dissociative Identity Disorder is, among other things, lonely. I often feel like I'm watching my life as it's lived by braver or more competent others. A situation presents itself and, without conscious choice, the deck that is my system of alters begins to shuffle. Some force outside my control determines, almost instantaneously, the card best suited for the circumstances; and the card plays until the shuffling begins again. On one hand, this identity alteration is precisely what has allowed me to find employment, make friends, and parent a child. On the other, it's what separates me from the world and makes intimacy an illusion that only rarely becomes my reality.

“Mom always liked you best!” Tommy Smothers made the lament famous; every sibling has likely heard it. But for those with mentally ill siblings—could there be some truth to it?

When looking for a partner we often bring a list of requirements or “wants” such as: must be faithful, must have stable employment, or must love dogs. Once you’ve found someone who catches your attention and meets your list of requirements, you begin the first wonderful lovey-dovey stage in a romantic relationship where you can’t get enough of each other and where your partner can do no wrong. It’s only when the love dust settles that you begin to see clearly and notice some of the more undesirable characteristics in him.

In my final video for HealthyPlace, I give definitive proof that I have ADHD and that hyper-focus can be an embarrassing thing.

Anxiety and depression often go together. It's called comorbidity (Relationship Between Depression and Anxiety). Not only does suffering from the one make it more likely you'll have to deal with the other at some point, it also means that, baseline, emotions are more of a challenge. Comorbid anxiety and depression bounce your emotions around, making you feel hopeless and scared at the same time.

Got too many irons in the fire? Running out of room in the furnace you call your schedule? Maybe it's time to focus in on your core projects so you can actually complete them.

As I noted in a previous blog post, my son, Bob, who has bipolar disorder and ADHD, made it through his first week of third grade—albeit with some problems. Last Monday—the first day of Week 2—I received my first phone call of the year from the principal. Here we go again.

As a little girl, I loved going to bed at night. Alone under the covers, the room dark and quiet, I went away. I wasn't asleep, though I drifted off eventually. I was just gone. It was the most glorious relief. It was my secret trick, this disappearing act. I didn't know then that it's name is dissociation, or that it took many forms and existed to meet my needs. I called it "thinking." Even today, when someone brings me back from another place with a question or comment I often reply, "Oh sorry, I was just thinking." Even today, my ability to disappear is my greatest comfort. And it was born of an enormous need. This unmet need for comfort, The Comfort Factor, is one of the reasons I have Dissociative Identity Disorder.

Anxious thoughts race through your mind at a thousand miles an hour. Useless thoughts, seemingly going nowhere because they're speeding bullets - they just get stuck in your head. They break all the barriers you set, till you're too tired and overwhelmed to fight. Wouldn't it be better to put that restless energy to work? Of course!