Suicide. There is no place for you in our world. Consider this a declaration of war. We will not accept unresponsive support for the mentally ill, as well as those who are struggling with their mental health circumstantially .. We have suffered enough, we do NOT have to suffer anymore.

It made me understand so much more about myself. It provided me more of a direction to go as I move forward with life.

The den had couches that likely had never been cleaned and were probably covered in all sorts of disgusting human secretions.

I had a rather interesting conversation the other day with a woman named Evy. Her opening line was, “I don’t want you to take what I’m about to say personally, but I really need advice on two things.” In the past, my first impulse was to say and feel something along the lines of, “Oh, greatttttt. Meaning it is directed at me.” #Sarcasm is something that comes easily to me, and is often attempted to shield potential anger. I decided to move forward with the #oppositeaction, I

When I was a child, I knew for certain I was going to be a veterinarian and live on a farm. When I was an adolescent, I thoroughly intended on being the first female president of the United States (or when feeling less grandiose, a social worker). When I was a teenager, I had no aspirations to be much of anything for longer than 10 minutes. The way I saw it, I was lucky to still be alive. In retrospect, I often think that I was too afraid of failure to really carve out what I

“Can’t wait to get past whatever the fucking fuck this season is in my life right now – because seriously, what the fuck?!” There have been a number of times in my life this exact thought has not just crossed, but planted, itself in my mind. As an adolescent, it was finding out that my two best friends were going to boarding school so I would be headed to the local public high school, alone. Add in a little #socialanxiety and a horrific lack of #selfesteem, it was a recipe fo

I think peace looks really different when you have to fight so hard for it. I’m currently experiencing the most peaceful crash out ever. Like everything is falling apart a little. I’m #stressed, #overwhelmed, and slightly losing it .. but also #relaxing, #vibing, and weirdly at peace at the same time. The first time I really understood “finding peace” was in rehab. I had been running hard my whole life – always doing something, always trying to prove my usefulness, always bei

THAT, is the question. .. and the answer is always YES (as long as it is part of an acceptable sleep schedule) This really hit me, square between the eyes, but to be clear, it's an important factor for all humans ... Sleep isn't just "important" when you live with bipolar disorder, it's one of the biggest factors that can either protect your stability ... or quietly unravel it. And the hard part? Lack of sleep doesn't always feel like a problem at first. I lock my car keys in

... but the weight is just too heavy to carry and prepare to drop right now.

I graduated from High School in 2005. I went out west to Arizona State University, as far away as I could get from the town I grew up in, and the only house I ever lived in, to obtain my Bachelors. Needless to say, I’m pretty certain my focus wasn’t “obtaining my Bachelors” but instead to party as much as humanly possible until I “became an adult”. I “became” an adult a lot earlier than expected, with the most handsome surprise ever. My oldest son made his debut into society

For as long as I can remember, anger has always been the easiest emotion for me to express, and the first one that comes to the surface - far more than any other. For the longest time, I felt as though it was the only emotion I had. About halfway through my past career, my boss began referring to the timeframe from 2015-2016 as my "angry years". It just so happened that this was the time when my addictions had come to a head in my adult life. I was doing everything I never th

He used to ask where we would've been if we began US those years ago when we met, and I assured him we would have only crashed and burned then, we both needed to mature.

When I was 15, a therapist recommended that I speak with a psychiatrist for Borderline Personality Disorder and Bipolar Disorder. It was ignored, at the time, by my parents, because it had seemed as if everyone that went to therapy was being diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. I went back to therapy at 29, when I gave up the “good fight” and worked hard to maintain my sobriety. Again, the same mental illness diagnosis was suggested. This time it was ME who refused to accept, dec

Imagine being on a roller coaster – up and down, left and right, fast and slow, fun and outright petrifying. Now imagine being on the same rollercoaster, but instead of a quick 3 minute trip … it’s decades long. That’s the best analogy for my life. I wanted to get off, to walk on solid ground, to not be flipped upside down, to not feel debilitating fear when things move too fast, and complete anxiety when they moved too slow. I wanted to be able to connect with people, not ju