recovery

Your illness does not define you. It's your resolve to recover that does.

The F’D Up Road To My Perfect Place
There are few things more terrifying than quitting something that you once felt connected to in any way. This might mean a relationship, a friendship, or even physical toxins that you expose your body to. If you are used to having something as a part of your life, it can be really hard to let it go even if you know that it is bad for you and is harming your body and soul.
By Taryn Thomas6 years ago in Psyche
We Fall to Rise
*Trigger warning* I’ve always had big feelings. The only time I saw a problem with this was when I was sharing my feelings with other people. Some of those people accepted the feelings I shared with them with an open heart and mind. Others would shame me, calling me a “drama queen” or tell me to get over it. I tried to keep sharing anyways, believing that the space I created for other people to feel would be given back to me. I carried the emotions of some of the adults in my life on my back but was afraid of telling them mine for fear of being belittled. When I was in elementary school I was abused by a relative. I remember pulling up my shirt in the mirror when I was in the 6th grade and looking at the raised, red flesh on my back, vision blurry as I traced the outline of large “x” marks all up and down my spine. I whispered to myself in the mirror, “They doesn’t know what they’re doing. They’re parent did it to them.” I was petrified and in pain but afraid of being punished for showing my fear so I held it in, eyes brimming with liquid that wasn’t allowed to escape, never sighing so much as a peep out. I tried to ask for help once but when you don’t feel heard as a child, and you’re threatened for sharing, believing you deserve the cards you have been dealt, you eventually stop. I’d lay in bed, eyes closed, dreaming of the day I was far away and alone. Do you know what happens when you suppress your feelings? You get sick. Physically and mentally. I spent years in the presence of people who couldn’t handle my big feelings or my big past. Instead of validating myself I retreated further and further into myself. I hated myself for what I felt. I hated myself for the sting I’d feel, for the plummeting feeling as my heart sunk further and further into the pits of my stomach. And eventually i started punishing myself for it. I thought my big feelings being rejected by others made me deserving of more pain than I already felt. I couldn’t figure out how to navigate the intense feelings I had about all of this. As desperately as I searched for balance the scales were always off kilter, never in my favor. So, I hurt myself. I cut myself for the first time when I was in 7th grade. When I was a junior in high school my sleeve slipped up in class and one of my teachers noticed my scars. Nurses from the local mental health services were sent to the school and threatened to have me put on suicide watch. When I was 19 I was starting to feel a little better. I was ready to try to move on. I never believed I would live to graduate high school. I was certain the pain I harbored would become too much to bare and I would eventually decline to continue on with this life. So, I took advantage of this new feeling. I found myself waking up in the morning full of energy, feeling like the sun was shining on me at all times. I tried to maintain that feeling through cosmetology school but regrettably found myself unequipt and unable to, which led to the cutting starting again and an eating disorder came along with it. I lost 20 lbs that December over a 3 week period. My mom was convinced I was on drugs due to my protruding spine and dark, lifeless eyes. It took a year but I overcame my ED. Then there was 27. I woke up in a room I had never seen before after going on a second date. I couldn’t remember anything, all I could think about was my face. Why does it hurt so bad? And once I sat up, my ribs. Why can’t I breathe? I walked across inexplicably shattered glass to a mirror to behold my battered face and body. I had been drugged, knocked out, and stomped on. I was too sick to manage to escape that day. So, I had to be the bravest I’ve ever been and wait and leave my body again; to find another place in my mind. While I gave my body to someone else in fear of what further harm I’d succumb to if I did not. I had already been through so much. Not this, too. I came home that weekend with no fight left. I remember standing on the slippery wet railing of my back patio in the rain one night, leaning out over the edge, one hand on the pillar wondering when I’d find the courage to fall. I managed to keep going. Barely. Over the years that followed I continued to repress my emotions, life having proved over and over that my feelings were too big for this world to carry. There was no place for me. So I got angry. When I turned 28 my anger and need to control manifested as an ED again and I went on one of the biggest rampages I’ve ever been on. I drank everyday. I’d literally drink while I was driving. I constantly blacked out. I binged in secret and I never held down a meal. I felt crazy because I was starving and my stomach was in intense agony. I couldn’t feel anything anymore emotionally so I let people abuse me. My body was no longer mine and I punished myself even more for that. I would do things I swore I never would, I hurt people to see if it would conjure up any emotion but it never did. I was entirely numb. Do you know what’s worse than having big feelings? Having no feelings at all.
By Jade Baca 6 years ago in Psyche
A Secret I Have Kept
It felt like I was in a dream. I pulled my new-to-me iPhone 4S out of my pocket to capture the moment so that later I’d know for sure it was real. I kept the flash off, using the stage lights only and angling my phone just so in order to avoid the glare. I guess all those years getting a Fine Arts degree weren’t completely for naught. My heart felt so full I didn’t know whether to laugh, smile, or cry. An hour before, I’d been part of the VIP lineup to meet and take a photograph with the band, my mother’s words echoing in my ears. “You get a hug from him, don’t leave without it.” When my turn came to meet them, I squeaked out my request - twice, since he didn’t hear me the first time. He laughed, told me I was cute, and gave me a hug. I tried not to smile like an idiot for the photo, knowing this moment would take at least a week for me to fully process.
By Postit Fox6 years ago in Psyche
Dealing With Depression
I’m starting this Story as a very confused 9 year old, about the time I started to wish I would hurt myself so badly that I would be in a Coma and all the bad things would be over.
By rebecca walker6 years ago in Psyche
5 Essential Steps to Overcome Your Addiction
If you have a substance abuse problem, you may find yourself battling between staying sober and being under the influence. Whether addiction runs in your family or you've turned to substances to cope with life's stresses, you can overcome your problem if you seek help. It's easy to become addicted to drugs and/or alcohol, but it takes even more effort to kick a bad habit. There are a few steps you can take to overcome your addiction.
By Kevin6 years ago in Psyche
My Path to Body Positivity
I've always had a rough relationship with my body image. Most people say I am beautiful. I have compliments on my long legs, that I have a nice butt in my jeans without it being said in a vulgar context, that I have a nice figure. But that still effects me when I am all by myself and I have to look at my figure in the mirror or when I sit down and I can feel my stomach pressing against my arms. It's different when the positive affirmation from a friend's point of view can't really help me when it's my own body. It's like the generic saying goes, "You never know what someone's going through until you've walked a mile in their shoes". I've tried to explain that it's a sweet sentiment but it doesn't change how I think. In return, my answer is dismissed and I'm cut off with more "positive affirmation" that I don't know what I'm talking about, that I have to stop being negative. I would try to explain to another person that I'm not trying to be negative, I'm trying to explain why I can't accept that positive remark because I hate my own body and I can barely look at it half the time. That's the way I thought several years ago.
By Samantha Parrish6 years ago in Psyche
The journey so far...
Hi, I’m Jennie. Thanks for joining me on my mental health journey. As others who suffer from mental illness will know, this kind of journey is full of ups and downs, twists and turns – but things will always get better and we’ll see some light again, even if only in short spells.
By Jennie Rose6 years ago in Psyche
Bulimia nervosa and binge-eating disorders treatments.
Bulimia or binge-eating disorders are a serious condition that can affect someone for a very long time. It can affect anyone from any age or any gender and from any background. People who suffer from this disorder eat large volumes of food. Bulimia sufferers then try to compensate for binging by taking laxatives, diuretics or vomiting.
By Melissa Richards6 years ago in Psyche
I Was Baker-Acted, Twice.
On August 4, 2019, I was baker-acted at the age of 17. In the state of Florida, in which I live, if someone exhibits signs of being mentally ill, that person can be involuntary held for a period of 72 hours in a mental health facility.
By Briana Marie6 years ago in Psyche
Everything you ever needed, has been inside of you this whole time
Change. The dreaded word. It gets thrown around a lot but when push comes to shove, how willing are you to actually change?
By Anna Papaioannou6 years ago in Psyche
I survived, for now
Not sure how to do this. Just saw this site, and I got a little excited and thought I’d see if anyone would even hear me. Im Kayla. I’m 24. I have GAD, PTSD, and panic disorder. My life has me a little messed up, but I’m still here!, just holding on by a string., everyday is a struggle for me. I’m gonna start with a summary of some of my life and and i can get into more stuff next time, in hope That people want to know more. My life has been nothing but trauma since literally the day I was born. Born in BullHead, Arizona. I was a premature baby, was born addicted to meth, & I wasn’t breathing for the first thirteen minutes, and had to be flown to another hospital. And that’s the only Information I have from my birth. So sad because I don’t have any other information. My birth parents were very abusive and very much hooked on drugs, in and out of jail, Dad was an alcoholic, mom was addicted to meth, all of us were homeless, staying in a car to random people’s houses or trailors. I lived with them till I was 5 or 6. I had a sister at least, a year and half older than me, and she took care of me when our parents weren’t. Which was all the time and I would have died if I didn’t have my sister. Our dad tried to suffocate several times. He would chock us and also put a pillow over my face. And they would beat the crap of me and my sister, very often, with anything they could find. From being choked to almost death, to our mom pouring boiling hot soup on our heads, to all the unheard of abuse in between. Last day I saw my birth parents, me and my sister were walking home from school and we saw hella cops, an ambulance, fire truck, and then we see my mom coming out in handcuffs so I ran so fast to her because I knew she was getting taken because they were always taking her away from me. But a cop snatched me and my sister right up and put us in the cop car. And our dad got us out of the car and took us to his friends house and our grandparents came and got us the next day and took us down south with them,to find somewhere else to live. So what happened was my mom stabbed our roommate in the back with a very large knife , all because the girl wouldn’t give my parents more time to pay rent. And my mom was extremely high. So she tried to kill the girl. Her name was Bobby. I really wonder if she ever lived 😔 one of the many questions I have about my life. Last day I saw them. So our grandparents had us, but wanted nothing to do with us really. But she had to figure out something. So my one sister went to our aunts house, my other two sisters stayed with my grandparents,... while they sent me to live with strangers . They chose me to move around, because I was “extremely well behaved, never complains, the best kid, etc”. I got put with families because I went with the flow and adjusted to my environments very well and did anything I was told...then another family, then another, all abuse nightmares, then to foster care. Which I wanna tell in another story, next time I write a story, if this even gets read?. All of them, the home’s I lived in when I was younger, were abuse stories that have so much to them and could really help someone & I just pray this gets read:I just wanna be heard for the first time in my life. And I wanna help someone. I want to be to someone what I needed growing up that I didn’t get. Which is love and acceptance, and a friend, a family, support, a safe place to go, all that. In life.. i just wanna help people. It’s the only thing that gives me happiness and peace., the only thing, making others happy. All I wanna do in life. I have a lot more I want to share. Feels like I could go on and on, but I don’t wanna waste anyone’s time. Hopefully I get some feedback. I’m here for you!! -to whoever needs to hear that! I’m here to help. Just wanna love people. It’s nice getting some things out. Thankful. And just thanks for reading if you did, seriously... thank you 🙏
By Kayla Stejskal6 years ago in Psyche
Perfection kills
When harmless cleaning routines, hygiene and list making behaviours once deemed to be positive implementations into life, turn into the catalyst of unhealthy, ritualistic and life threatening behaviour...
By anonymous 6 years ago in Psyche