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Have you ever had a moment that makes you question every bit of recovery you’ve achieved to that point? I have—recently, I questioned my skin picking recovery. 
In 1999, when I was in fifth grade, a police officer came to our school dressed in a Drug Abuse Resistance Education (D.A.R.E.) t-shirt. He was carrying a gun and wearing a stern face. Without any words, he communicated that using drugs led to extreme consequences. His lecture taught us that drug addicts deserve to be locked up. But criminalizing addiction turned out to be more hurtful than helpful.
Since I have arthritis in my knees and schizoaffective disorder, the migraines I suffer are a substantial extra load. And now I know what it’s like to have my physical illnesses treated more seriously than my mental illness. This is the story of a time when I stood up for my mental health, and my mental illness was treated seriously.
Navigating verbal abuse is never ideal. This toxic behavior can alter how a person sees and trusts others and interacts in relationships. The amount of exposure to verbal abuse can drastically change a person's view or attitude toward themselves and others. This situation is one I'm familiar with since I can see now that verbal abuse has changed me.
I've learned that it's difficult to fight self-doubt when you are often anxious. Unfortunately, naturally, anxiety and self-doubt go hand in hand. Because of this, my anxiety can affect my decision-making. In other words, when trying to make a choice, I often doubt myself and my ability to make a good decision.
When I spent three months in residential treatment back in 2010, the clinicians would frequently encourage the other patients and me to communicate and honor our needs. This practice was meant to teach us how to separate our own inner voices from the control and influence of an eating disorder. As well-intentioned as these clinicians were, however, I remember asking myself: "How can I learn to express my needs if I'm not sure what they are?"
One of the best pieces of advice I've ever received was to stop trusting my emotions, which means, don't trust my gut. I had gone to see an acupuncturist with a strained back and an abundance of curiosity. He palpated my ovaries, eyelids, and the like for a half minute before diagnosing my issue as one of emotional over-indulgence. He stuck a couple of dozen needles in me, left me alone for 20 minutes, and returned with his treatment plan. "You shouldn't trust your gut so much," he suggested and sent me on my way.
One of the hardest things about any mental health condition is that they are unpredictable. The same thing is true at my job. Some days are very difficult because of the anxiety and depression I feel at work. However, several activities make it easier to get through my shifts. Here are six strategies that help me overcome anxiety and depression during my job.
As soon as puberty kicks in, many of us lose self-esteem. Many physical, emotional, and psychological changes begin to take shape during this time, leaving us confused and extremely sensitive. As our bodies change, so does our self-esteem, leaving us vulnerable. Even fully understanding that this is a perfectly normal part of life that everyone goes through didn’t make it any easier for me. Puberty was a time in my life I think back to and wonder whether anyone handles it any better than I did.
I talk about eating disorder recovery all the time. You might call them healing conversations. I unpack the layers and nuances of it with my therapist. I excitedly share these revelations with my partner once the session is over. I journal about what I'm learning in the process. Then I pass on those lessons to the younger women I mentor, who deal with similar experiences of their own.

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Comments

C.A.
That is not boundaries. If someone’s boundaries require you to not communicate there is something wrong. That is a manipulation tactic not a boundary. That is not about boundaries it is about control.
Robin Gaile
Mahevash, I too suffer (I usually say deal with but I am experiencing an episode too) from major depression disorder and it stinks. Especially this time of year when everyone is cheerful and I'm just not. It's like trying to dig yourself out of quick sand your just stuck and you feel yourself sinking. But you are right about this just being a moment (a terrible sometimes long moment) in time and it will fade and you will see brighter days if you just stick it out. Well I'll get off my soap box now and keep telling myself these things.😊🦋
Dereck
Thank you…. Still no word from her. She’s going to see her psychiatrist for the 3rd time coming up. Her belongings and dog are still here. I’m still supportive in my way, I’m still living my life. I get in my head a lot. Today was rough. Her mom was supposed to talk to her to see what’s going on. I’m still going strong though. I just want to let her know I’m still here for her. I don’t want to put any pressure on her to come home. Just let her know I’m proud of her and I support her. But I imagine she knows that.
Linda singer
I have shared similar frustrations—glad to finally have a name for what makes my life more difficult. I have no sensory memory, but profound emotional ones— not always helpful, either!
Kayla Holtom
I am 16 with a twin brother,Kevin.We both recieved our Sacrement of Confirmation back in early September in the class of 23. Kevin and the other boys had to wear white suits and me and the other girls had to wear white,short sleeve floor length dresses with a veil,white gloves.lace anklets and white maryjane shoes.Two weeks before the ceremony,dad told mom that he wanted me diapered under my dress and mom went along with it! She got a package of 26x27 inch cloth diapers and sewed them together in my waist size to make one diaper out of them.She ordered a pair of white adult size rubberpants[plasticpants] and got a card of diaper pins at Walmart.That sunday morning,after my bath,mom had me sit down on my bed and lay back.She slid the folded diaper under me,applied the babypowder,then brought the diaper up and pinned the corners.Then she put my feet into the waist and leg openings of the rubberpants and pulled them up my legs and over the diaper.Since they were adult size,they fit me blousy over the diaper.My top was put on next,then my dress,veil,lace anklets and the shoes.I was brought out and shown to dad and Kevin.Mom lifted up my dress and showed them the diaper and rubberpants and i turned red!I felt weird walking down the aisle with my classmates and having the diaper and rubberpants on under my dress!