advertisement

Blogs

I am one of the many people who consider their first love a life-changing chapter of their lives. Unfortunately, betrayal marred my first love, and the resulting betrayal trauma made it hard for me to move on.
Today, individualism is more challenging than ever. This week, I've been thinking a lot about The Fountainhead, a novel by Ayn Rand, the Russian-born American writer and thinker who's been largely slimed by 21st-century progressives for her conservative political philosophy. The Fountainhead, however, deals not with politics but with self-hood and being an individual.
During my childhood, my dad was one of my best friends. So Father's Day was a very exciting time. But after my father died, I dreaded the holiday. Over the years, I have learned to cope with grief through writing. This Father's Day, I want to share some writing prompts that have helped me to remember my father's special place in my life. This post contains six of my writing prompts.
Perfectionism is a double-edged sword. While it can help you achieve greater things in your personal and professional life, it can also lead to a never-ending cycle of self-criticism and low self-esteem. Perfectionists tie their self-esteem to their achievements, and if things don't go to plan, they start feeling like they are failures which can destroy their confidence and even self-confidence.
For me, psychosis involves auditory hallucinations (hearing voices and sounds) and is the most dangerous part of my illness. The last time I went to the emergency room for symptoms of psychosis, the doctor asked me if I heard voices, and when I answered that I was, he asked an important question, "Do you do what the voices tell you to do?" And unfortunately, my answer was yes. If you can't immediately see the danger in this scenario, try to think of it this way, imagine taking orders from something that is not real. It's alarming. Schizophrenia, voices, combined with suicidal ideation, is even more alarming.
My eating disorder relies on selective memory in order to maintain a stringent foothold in my life. Selective memories are enticing and compelling. They can also be quite dangerous. In fact, as I have come to realize, the presence of selective memory is often the difference between making continual strides in recovery or free-falling back into a cycle of relapse. What do I mean by this, and how am I learning to combat selective memory in my eating disorder? Let me explain.
In the 15 or so years that I've lived with depression, I’ve built a metaphorical toolbox of techniques and relationships that help me keep the darkness at bay. Two of these depression coping tools are my dogs. Here’s how bundles of fur and slobber, known as dogs, help me cope with depression.
If you're a single person with bipolar disorder, surviving can be hard. Last time I outlined why this is in a piece about being alone with bipolar disorder, but this time, I'm focusing on successfully dealing with being a single person with bipolar disorder.
I’m Sammi Caramela, and I’m excited to join HealthyPlace as the new author of "Trauma! A PTSD Blog." I’ve lived most of my life in survival mode, but it wasn’t until I was in my early 20s that I realized I was suffering from posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) from early childhood trauma. Learning why I was suffering was crucial to healing from the extreme anxiety and depression I coped with on a regular basis.
Because I grew up with the label "shy" instead of "anxious," there are a lot of things I didn’t realize I do because of anxiety, and no one ever recognized them as anxious behaviors. It took me reading about them somewhere else or hearing someone else say them for the lightbulb to go off about my anxious behaviors.

Follow Us

advertisement

Most Popular

Comments

Natasha Tracy
Hi She_Has_No_Name,

Thank you for your comment. I'm so sorry for what you've been through. I wish I could say something to make it feel better, but I suspect that's impossible.

What I can say is that you're right to hope. There is always the possibility of positive change. Getting help -- new help, additional help, etc. -- can be very hard and even disheartening at times, but it can also work, too.

I'm sending you some warm fuzzies. I know how hard it is, but the fact that you're still here speaks to your strength.

-- Natasha Tracy
Rue
Thank you, Gyss. My friend is letting me borrow some long gloves. I'm working on stopping self harm, I was clean for 3 months but I relapsed last night. Thank you so much.
Rue
Hey, I hear you. First I would talk to your boyfriend about how you feel. I would tell him maybe why you self harm, and open up to him why you are afraid of your parents finding out. Also explain to him that self harm is like an addiction, it's hard to stop and It's normal to relapse. I understand why you are afraid of your parents finding out, and I'm sorry that you're afraid that your parents will be mad at you. I really would open up to them if you could, because they might be able to find resources for you. I really hope that this helps you Chanel.
she_has_no_name
Girl, you just basically told the story of my life. I'm 41 years old. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder 5 years ago. And unfortunately where I live the Healthcare system is a disgrace and the real help isn't available unless we have the money or insurance coverage to pay for the right therapy and the right professionals. I'm honestly suffering, and have been stuck in my bipolar depression for my entire life but most severely being the past decade or so. It's now become so debilitating that I cannot have any life at all. I can't even spend time with or around family and friends, or strangers for that matter. I've lost the strength and tenacity and desire even because honestly the Healthcare is so disappointing, it's so bad I can honestly say, I wouldn't trust the Healthcare system in this province, to save my life. It's a sad true, I could go on more about that but I'd run out of space LOL... But reading your story really helps my heart. I feel like quite a damaged human whose life will now just consist of existence with a constant suffering battle with mental health and there feels like very little hope for me. It's also very hard to be taken seriously for the illnesses I have. I also have misophonia, self diagnosed since no one even seems to know nor care about what it is. I've had it all my life I just didn't know what it was until recent years. All the same, because of you, I will try to hang onto that last thread of hope that there is help for me and that I will get it and may be able to get out and live a normal kind of life. As of now I'm isolated to myself 98% of my time, I'm also a single/only parent been raising my son on my own, he's 16, also has alot of the same mental health issues but he's stronger and he has been able to get some help while its most crucial in life, so he hopefully doesn't end up with long term untreated and undiagnosed issues, making it harder to get better, like myself being in my mid 30s before even getting a diagnosis and improper treatment since then, it feels like it may take another half of a lifetime for me to get well. Here's to having a chance, and thanks to people like you for sharing your story and knowledge and inspiring us, the lost ones, LOL ♡ one love to all ♡
Jeremy
When I was 8 years old, I peed my pants in the supermarket. My mom drug me to the bathroom , told me to finish, then left. She came back with a bag of small size Attends briefs. I was diapered and made to finish shopping in only my diaper, a t-shirt and shoes. I was kept in diapers the whole summer and was rarely allowed to wear pants over them. Once school started again, I was allowed to wear pullups during the day but was still diapered every night. This was the normal routine until I graduated high school. I went to college but went back to diapers 24/7. I've been diapered full time for almost 30 years now. I am fully dependent on diapers, all because I wet my pants when I was 8.