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What the Pictures Don't Show

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I couldn’t stop staring at the pictures. I’ve pulled them up on my phone more times than I can count, just trying to convince myself they’re real. The first time I saw that “before” picture, I was completely flabbergasted. I knew I was overweight, but I had no idea it looked like that. We didn’t even have a full-length mirror in the house at the time, so I never really saw the full picture. But seeing them side by side? It stopped me. More than a year apart, and it feels like I’m looking at two completely different lives. Back then, my day-to-day life was the best I could make of it while living with crippling depression and constant pain. My knees were so bad that just getting to the restroom meant using a walker. Some days, even the smallest tasks felt overwhelming. I knew I was struggling. I knew my quality of life had changed drastically. But the pain was so intense that I could only focus on getting through a couple things each day. Even something as simple as going...
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10 Years

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  10 Years   It’s been 10 years. 10 solid years. There’s got to be something bigger…A DECADE.   10 years since my suicide attempt 10 years since my last attempt at self-harm 10 years since I left that hospital resolved to never return 10 years since I started this blog 10 years since I started my book 10 years since I learned that I could be a mental health advocate   It’s been a decade.   I was forty years old back then, and I misunderstood everything. I still didn’t know why I cut myself, or why I ever said I wanted to die, even though I loved my husband so completely. I could tell other people that were struggling that they were loved and needed in this world. For some reason, it just didn’t apply to me.   You never could have convinced me at nineteen when I finally started getting treatment for my disease that I would be FIFTY years old and still talking about this. I just assumed back then that you took a pill for a whil...
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Bipolar Disorder 28 Years in the Making

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I just turned 47 years old, and I suffer from bipolar disorder. Never in a million years did I think I would still be struggling at this age. Back when I was diagnosed, I remember thinking, I’ll just take these pills and that will take care of it. From age 19 on, things have progressively gotten worse with my symptoms. My 20’s were a nightmare filled with self- injury, suicide attempts, and hospitalizations. It wasn’t until my 30’s that I started to see things more clearly. That is in a large part due to marrying a kind, caring, and compassionate man. That, coupled with finally getting mental health coverage, finally allowed me to choose a doctor that was a good fit for me. It was a struggle. It’s been very difficult to find one that I felt I could trust. As I turned 40, thing seemed to come apart at the seams. I attempted suicide once again in 2013 and was hospitalized. I felt like I was starting all over again. The hospital was horrible, and I received no help what...
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First Blog of 2020

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I’ve been struggling. That’s not news to anyone that follows my Twitter feed. I don’t even know the reason life has been so hard for me lately. But, when life gets hard on me, things start falling by the wayside, and one of those things has been writing. I’ve mostly been featuring guest posts on my blog just to keep it active, while I’ve sat by and wished it was me who wrote every single article. I will say one thing that I do know for certain; losing our cat Hayley has had a profound effect on me. I knew it would be difficult when that day came, but I didn’t realize it would hurt like this. So, it’s been hard to come up with topics when my brain is only stuck on that one tragic event. My health hasn’t been great, and family issues are never-ending, so all of that factors in as well. The biggest struggle for me right now is watching my friends, peers, other advocates making an impact with their blogs or books or just overall advocacy. I feel like I’m running in the s...
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Then and Now

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A lot of time has passed since my suicide attempt in 2013. Many things have changed. Some for the good, others for the bad. I’ve struggled with hard days, sometimes becoming hard weeks. However, I haven’t been quite as low as I am right now. Days have gone by without me even noticing. Sometimes I don’t even leave my bedroom. I keep it dark and stare off into space with the same TV shows or movies playing repeatedly in the background. I’ve cried, I’ve raged, I’ve even wanted to throw in the towel. This much pain is very difficult to carry. Quite honestly, after two months of feeling this badly, I’m about to lose hope. I’m forcing myself to keep writing about my feelings so I can perhaps make sense of them. Everyone always wants to look for a reason when I feel this way. Are you taking your medication? Did you see your doctor? Have you tried yoga? In looking back I realize that I do have a reason for the depression to start, just not necessarily to last as long as it has. In the...
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Saying Goodbye

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There’s a myriad of emotions that person experiences when they lose a beloved pet. For some, it’s not just your run of the mill sadness, it’s a deep-rooted grief that completely cripples you. You always know deep down in your heart that one day you aren’t going to have them anymore. So, you spoil them and cater to their every whim. All because one day you won’t be able to. Especially once they start to get older. Coping with the loss of my cat, Hayley after 18 years has caused a whole new set of problems. The first being massive panic attacks. Hayley wasn’t technically a therapy pet, but she would have passed with flying colors had I tried to certify her. She checked on me if I coughed, let alone a full-blown panic and crying. So, I’m feeling more alone than I ever thought I would, and having bipolar disorder isn’t helping the situation. I was thoroughly depressed before any of this came up with Hayley, so this piled on top is just too much weight to carry. I know there a...
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A Million Pieces

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I didn’t see this one coming. I was blindsided by my own brain. To my knowledge, no one can predict depression, but there are certainly warning signs. I used to be able to feel it coming on. My body would start to feel heavier, and my mind would turn to darkness. Sometimes, this disease makes me feel locked out of my own life. Everything still goes on without me, even though I should be right in the middle of it. I worry about anything and everything. In the back of my damaged brain, I know that worrying won’t help the situation. Right now, though, it feels like the only thing I can do.  I need to wake up tomorrow with a renewed sense of hope. I don’t want to carry around this black cloud above my head. The truth is, I hope for that every single night. In June, my husband and I took an all-expense paid trip to California for a mental health conference. I thought I had left my social anxiety and agoraphobia at home. Even though I loved where we stayed in Lagu...
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