Not just depression, but anxiety, insecurity, and self doubt.
Needing to be there for the one you love when they need your support, but being unable to be of any help because of your own miserable mental incapacities, and loathing yourself for it, leading to deeper depression and even less ability to be there for them. Continue reading
Does anxiety make us do stupid things? Or do our stupid actions cause anxiety?
As I roll around this spastic hamster wheel of my own creation, I realize it probably doesn’t matter. The result is the same. Utter and complete exasperation. Heart-pounding worry. Multiple imagined scenarios of worst cases.
I forgot to order my meds. Again.
Every few months, I find myself staring down the empty bottle neck of my meds.
It shouldn’t sneak up on me like this. My physician, insurance company, and I have a nice, little arrangement for ourselves. She writes the script, they fill it, I retrieve it from the mailbox. Couldn’t be any less painless. Continue reading
When I finally started to not care about stigma and admit I had serious depression-like and anxiety-like stuff going on, I had little idea where the journey of treatment would take me.
Not surprisingly, it was the advice of a good friend future fiancée, herself a mental illness veteran, that got me going in the right direction. The right direction was cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT). It sounded like just the thing I needed, and I pressed my at the time therapist to get our weekly sessions into the realm of actual CBT, instead of the patient-directed Q & A that had been the hallmark of our times together. Continue reading
Hello to all you amazing Canvas readers! Remember me? Maybe? Just a little? Clearly it has been a long time since I showed my lovely face around these parts. Some of that has been life, part of it has been Blog For Mental Health 2014, but most of it. . . Well, here goes.
The last post I wrote for Canvas, well, I started composing it at the end of 2013, moved on to actually writing it into March 2014, read and re-read the 1,800 words I had managed to knock it down to, and after all that I finally shelved it. You see, as some of you know, I was incredibly ill from September 2013 well into January 2014. Continue reading
Parallel, and at times, intersecting, but to all those save a close few – totally distinct. One hidden from the other; one nonexistent except for the shadow it cast on my life.
When I could get out from under it, it was much easier for even me to pretend that shadow life didn’t exist. I wasn’t suffering. I wasn’t having trouble coping. I didn’t need help. Certainly, no one needed to know about it. Continue reading
Anyone who has ever looked up a “serious mental illness” like bipolar disorder has been smacked in the face with dire warnings and frightening statistics about misdiagnosis. If you google my lifelong companion ADD, you’ll see lots and lots of dire warnings and hand-wringing about overdiagnosis. But you won’t run into are dire warnings, frightening statistics, and hand-wringing about repeated, compounded misdiagnoses.