Part of having a child with a chronic condition is self-education. Whether you want to or not, you become a sort of layman's expert on whatever ails your child. I'm no exception--I know more about Bob's Bipolar and ADHD diagnoses (and others) than I ever wanted to know. The most frightening thing I've learned, however, is how little we actually know.

We Americans live in a capitalist society. Some things, however, should never be put up for sale. Money may not grow on trees, but it can be recovered if a mistake is made. Human life can not.

Crazy isn't always crazy, but I wonder if I'm lost, or if I'm found. I wonder if I'm halfway gone and nobody has bothered to tell me yet. It's a fine line, this sanity thing. Supposedly you either have it, or you don't. But I don't entirely trust this theory. And it is just a theory. Truthfully, they can't tell you what sanity is for sure except that it's something you probably can't ever be sure of. Crazy isn't always crazy.

I'm thoroughly exhausted by the effort I expend to shield others from Dissociative Identity Disorder. I'm worn out on cleaning up the messes that inevitably occur when all that effort just isn't enough. I don't want to apologize for those messes anymore just now. I don't want to explain. I don't want to make speeches about personal responsibility and how I won't blame Dissociative Identity Disorder for problems directly related to - surprise! - Dissociative Identity Disorder. There are only so many guilty verdicts I can receive before I start to feel a little worthless. And I can only try so hard to protect the people around me from DID before I'm depleted.

Many of us with a mental illness have tried to “power through” it. We have tried to muscle through the pain without getting help of any kind. Most of us don’t want to admit we need help. Most of us don’t even want to admit we’re sick. We think that we’ll be fine without doctors and therapists and pills. We think that they are the enemy. We think we’re better off without them. We are so ridiculously wrong.

"Nobody wants to touch that," says More Than Borderline blog author Becky Oberg about the difficulty of finding treatment for Borderline Personality Disorder. The borderline stigma overshadows the real human beings that live with BPD and obscures their genuine suffering. Still, Becky encourages those with Borderline Personality Disorder, "Don't give up."

As a 45-year-old woman struggling to recover from anorexia, I often wonder if this is going to be part of my life forever. Will I be like the 76-year-old client of my psychiatrist, hands gripping her walker as she gingerly takes each step forward up to the front window, looking as if a slight wind would blow her over and the common flu would kill her? I try hard to believe she is not my future, and I want to stress that she doesn't have to be your future. Recovery from eating disorders is possible at any age.

We all need sleep, but for many of us, particularly those living with anxiety, it's difficult to find. What with the pressures of time, work, family, studies, constant stimulation and lots of towns and cities that never really shut down. Let alone take a siesta. What's getting in the way of your getting a good night's sleep and beating anxiety? Take a look at these 4 important areas of a good sleep lifestyle.

If I'd kept quiet about my brush with hospitalization a couple of weeks ago, my doctor would have been the only person who knew anything was seriously wrong. I missed a blog post the following Monday, but easily could have feigned some other, less embarrassing emergency. We were in the midst of moving and still managed, with a great deal of help that would have been necessary either way, to get the old place emptied and the new one full. Even my family didn't realize the jeopardy I was in. How is it possible to be desperately unwell and no one know? Dissociative Identity Disorder makes passing as normal not only possible for me, but nearly unavoidable.

I get all manner of comments here and many of them scrape against my bones. Because I know these people. Because I know their brains. Because I am these people. Sometimes people think because I write or advocate or win awards I am not them, but it is precisely because I am them that I can do these things. It is precisely because I feel their desperation that I can truly write about it. One does write what they know, after all.