recovery
Your illness does not define you. It's your resolve to recover that does.
3 years sober
I’m 3 years sober today. This isn’t what I pictured my life would be like 3.5 years ago. I know that sounds like a pandemic gripe. That I’m going to take this opportunity to talk about how I miss performing, or hugging my grandma, or coffee dates with friends INSIDE coffee shops...or knowing I could travel anywhere at anytime if I had the money. I could continue with that list. And all of it would be true. But more truthful than that is I didn’t plan on being alive past 40, and that birthday is only 3 months away. That means I either wouldn’t have been alive to write this post, or I would’ve been clinging to deaths door, perhaps wishing my prediction wasn’t coming to fruition. Multiple trips to the hospital found me startling myself awake, hooked up to tubes and wires, wondering “really!? I made it through again? Why?” Never unscathed, but also never willing to change.
By Bradley Beahen5 years ago in Psyche
Salire
I was a middle-aged woman, barely in her 50's when I met him. At first, his attempts to be domineering was refreshing. As a professional creative, I relished the fact that he would choose restaurants, or "make suggestions" on what would be a flattering haircut. I didn't realize right away the deceit that lay beneath that smile. I was ashamed that I wasn't wiser at my age, that I couldn't see the danger that was waiting. Looking back, I suppose there was something intriguing about an amateur photographer who was complimentary of my work, who wanted to learn from me, mentor under me. The ego of a creative can be a fascinating world to enter, and it can be deadly.
By Kate Doster5 years ago in Psyche
I Am the Honey Badger
I have scars on my arm put there by me. After being hospitalized over 20 times, you would expect a lot more than there are. Or you would expect a lot worse fate for myself. Fortunately, I made it through. But, not without help from professionals and support from the people who care about me.
By Isabel Ann F. S.5 years ago in Psyche
Watering your own flowers
Things 18 year olds should have to worry about: going to college, getting a job, voting, becoming independent, making that difficult transition to adulthood. Add a crippling mental health diagnosis to this, and living a “normal” young adult life is almost impossible. I was diagnosed with bipolar 1 when I was 18, months into my first year of college. At first, I was manic, on top of the world. Going out every night, waking up the next morning for my 8am class with little to no sleep. Maintaining a 4.0 gpa without even opening a book. I lost weight, had fun, and felt invincible. My mom was worried about my carefree, party lifestyle that was so drastically different than my high school experience so she forced me to schedule an appointment with a psychiatrist where they quickly diagnosed me with bipolar 1 and put me on some heavy duty medicine that would hopefully stabilize my moods and bring the real Brittany back. I thought that was the end of it, I’d be back to normal and life could go on. Two weeks went by and I fell into the deepest depression that I had ever even heard of. I dropped out of school, moved in with my nana, and fought to stay alive. Over the course of the next 7 years I fluctuated back and forth, up and down. Never seeming to keep my footing for longer than a month at most. My symptoms got worse over the years and I lost more and more hope that I would ever have a “normal” life. After a brief stay in a impatient mental health facility I really felt lost. I was stable, but numb and I couldn’t see my once bright future anymore. I shortly after met my husband and everything changed. I started laughing again, having fun, seeing my friends, loving life. He always pushes me to take care of my mental health, to be selfish. I went from a college drop out living on her Nana’s couch to a strong, married woman with a full time job working with kids with special needs, driving my own car, living alone with my husband, and finally having the independence that I have always craved. I got this tattoo during my recent manic episode where I learned a lot about myself. It represents me (I had the artist even make the girl in my tattoo resemble me) watering my own flowers, taking care of my own mental health. I’m quick to help everyone else but there comes a point in time where you have to put yourself first. I struggle with this everyday, and I am learning. But this tattoo is a constant reminder to me to care and love myself and something beautiful will come from it.
By Brittany Carnahan5 years ago in Psyche
Benefits of Drug Rehabilitation Program
When you join a drug rehab program, you may initially think of the many positive benefits of treatment. Drug rehab centers have to maintain a strong staff, capable of safely handling the many patients. These days, a strong staff is very important.
By Phillip Howell5 years ago in Psyche
Accidentally Put Together
I did it. I finally did it. I escaped my toxic relationship in June 2020 - once and for all. He tried everything he could to manipulate me into staying...but I knew better than to fall for it again. I was back in BC, on the West Coast, and feeling so consistently happy - more than I had in, well, years. I was solo-travelling, planning to move into my own place on Vancouver Island. I had packed my car full of the things I needed to feel safe and at home, drove 5000 kms from Ontario to BC and managed to land an apartment to move into on July 1. The only downside to all of this was that I had no steady income (thank you COVID) and a mountain of debt. And, some emotional baggage left over from my experiences with my ex...but that's beside the point.
By Kristen Fontaine5 years ago in Psyche
Getting sober
I’m always early, maybe it is the fact that I am a Virgo, although, I don’t really believe in that. I think my anxious nature is truly caused by my anxiety and that is just a fact about me. I worry, another fact about me. This worry caused my earliness and even at my breaking point, I was still early for that, an overachiever.
By Shelley Tennison5 years ago in Psyche
