Thank you for sharing your story. I just lost my 14 year old son (march 7th 2019) to what we are told is suicide. I’m still in shock as I know my son would never have done this on purpose. Especially to me. His mother. The love of his life. He had no signs. I feel the guilt, what did I miss? What could I have done? I have my first therapy tomorrow with my husband and daughter. Thank you for reassuring me on the therapy portion. Prayers to all

As a Mom who’s child was diagnosed during freshman year at college with bipolar spectrum I can tell you it’s been a long stressful journey. Thank you for this article. It’s very reassuring. I’m sadden by peoples comments about their universities not being supportive. We have found the absolute BEST support from our University’s deans office and mental health support from the University C.A.P.S. Program at the University our child attends. If your University doesn’t have one, they should. I had no idea such programs existed but it has helped save my child’s life and given us all such amazing support. They have worked with class schedules and professors and advocated for our child. We just have to take it one day at a time, one minute at a time. Praying for everyone out there affected by mental illness.

In August 2016 I was diagnosed with Paranoid Schizophrenia and Social Anxiety Disorder.

This is all new to me. It’s unsettling and, yet, reassuring that this now has a name. Now that I have more information I can look back and see signs of this illness lurking beneath the surface. They’re small, but they’re there. Everything came to a breaking point in January 2016. I lost my little sister in a car accident on the 22nd of that month. She was only 20. My job was causing me a lot of stress due to my social anxiety and so everything just sort of…piled up. I was a mess mentally and soon began suffering panic attacks regularly. My co-worker, and then friend, was beyond worried about me. She did everything possible to help and was my rock during all the turmoil. But I was steadily getting worse and before long she wasn’t able to help anymore. I would go into delusions and, on a couple occasions, would fly into a psychotic rampage. I had recurring night terrors that left me scared to sleep. Voices were rampant in my head making being awake just as bad. It got too scary so she had to start avoiding me. I was on indefinite leave from my job, had just lost all my friends, and was swirling into madness.

I finally had to force myself to seek help. And that’s when I learned about my illness. It’s only been since August, but I can tell the difference. I started medication and doing research; I learned to pay attention to my triggers and let someone know if I felt an attack coming or if they were doing something to trigger it. It’s still a learning experience and a lot of adjusting for family. The few drawbacks can only be resolved with time. Like everyone treating me differently (not badly) and how they speak to me about certain subjects. The harder things are being able to get back on the workforce and being in public in general. It’s also hard not to feel alone, but I’m trying…one baby step at a time.

I throw a dinner party at my apartment every single Wednesday night.

This usually results in things like enough rosemary garlic chicken and twice-baked green bean casserole (yeah, I go hard) for 10 people when there are only 5 around the table that night, which is fine because I keep a stash of to-go boxes on hand. Chicken alfredo night is sort of like that children’s book where that old lady accidentally uses some magical stock pot to make spaghetti and it keeps overflowing until it fills the whole town with pasta. That’s basically what happens to my kitchen. This past week, though, was a four-course “breakfast for dinner” spread where the runaway hit was the make-your-own Belgian waffle bar with blueberries and chocolate chips and also pancakes shaped like elephants and enough bacon for 20 people that the six of us packed away no problem. And the pumpkin spice cupcakes and gourmet s’mores bar and and champagne kept us going until late into the night with telling stories and laughing until we cried.

You guys. I’m back.

Not “I think I’m back.” – I am.

Not “I think I feel better than ever.” I do. I do feel better than ever.

You might know I’ve struggled with depression for the better part of the last five years. Have had that label slapped on my forehead since ’09, baby. (If you didn’t know that, there you go.) What you probably don’t know, because I haven’t talked about it a ton, is that we (my family, doctors, support team of Guardians and Warriors) found out that I have something more complicated than just depression. I have bipolar disorder – type II.

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So the day that my mother told me to stop taking the medication it was having adverse effects to my body in very said ways I couldn’t believe it. I had spent all those years, 11ish, freaking out like a chicken with my head cut off trying to make everybody happy with these supposed magic pills except they were the opposite of magic to me. 

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I recently found out I am have bipolar disorder. Over the years I have often wondered if this was the case. I am twenty four I have two children a husband a home a dog chicken and a garden. I am in what should be the best happiest years of my life and what is the calmest my young life has ever been I was a child of rape and addictive neglective parents. For some reason This past few years my episodes have been worse then ever when i was younger I would just run away when i had an episode now I have children the farthest i can run is to my room in which i cant stay as much as Id like to.. My husband doesnt seem to understand what its like to feel so alone even when your surrounded by people. I have started college several attempts and my episode seem to get worse with the slightest bit of pressure. Sometime I feel like I can conquer the world and others i feel like its against me completely. Recently I have started treatment and mood-stabilizers although I am not sure they are working… but who know maybe i wont be alone and scared forever..

^If only it were that easy… I found this written on the ground near my place in Ditmas Park, Brooklyn.

Lately, I’ve been going through a Depression (capital D for much respect). And I think one of the hardest parts about it has been that oh-so-common question from others (and often myself) of…“Why?”

You see, people often associate Depression with something situational. Something must have happened, must have gone wrong. And when nothing has happened, nothing has gone wrong, when I have nothing outside me to blame, I feel like there is something just fundamentally wrong with me.

That feeling is judgement, rearing its ugly head, as it often likes to do. This compounding of a negative feeling with a negative judgement is what Buddhists call the “second arrow,” the not-so-helpful criticism and blame we tack on to an unfortunate unpleasant situation or feeling. It’s such a irrational (albeit human) thing that we all engage in this kind of judgement. It’s counter-productive, it doesn’t ever help anybody, and well, arrows– they’re pointy and made to hurt.

However, as many who experience Depression know, it can often be a biological thing with no one cause to point to or bad situation to blame it on. Trust me, I wish there was because then I could just fix it.

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Hi, my name is Karen Curlis. I live in Summit County, Ohio which has been my home for 52 years. I hold a B.A. in Psychology and my Licensure in Social Work. I have a two paged Biography because I have immersed myself in the understanding of the gamut of skills and knowledge necessary to help others. I have entitled myself as a Future Leader in the eradication of the stigma that affects those with Challenges. You may know know them as the chronically mentally ill or those with Severe and Persistent Mental Illness. I cannot fathom that we would call our friends and family, sons and daughters, clients or coworkers in terms that imply little or no Hope as if they weren’t in the same room as us.

Hope is what every person should have, yet those who are Gifted with their Challenges are usually denied hope because of the words that come out of our mouths, the media, the sensationalism of those few who are publically labeled from a tragedy in the next County over from us. We wonder if the next school shooting will be in our neighborhood committed by some “psycho.” Yet, we do not offer an integrated and culturally competent approach to solve these problems before the fact. Calling someone “psycho” can create a person who is psychotic! All because our lives have limited minds towards those who should be treated with compassion.

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Hello, my name Daniel and I struggle with Schizophrenia. It really all started with me being to scared to get near under my bed, in which I would jump to my bed from as far from my bed as I could, occasionally making me hit my arm or knee of the bed frame. Next, I’d look up to a figure staring at me or going to another room and someone is staring at something. Finally, the delusions were the worst part. I’d think if the full moon was full, I would be unsafe, I thought my limbs were turning purple or that someone was after me. My friends would tell me nobody is where I’m saying one of my hallucinations would be or would say that the moon or something would hurt me. I didn’t believe I had Schizophrenia or any other mental illness but finally, I believed my friends after the first psychotic episode. I was stressed over school and decided to go on a walk and sit down for a while. I constantly got worried someone was behind me and would look behind me often. Finally, i looked behind me and a figure was staring at me and started walking towards me. I kept saying, ”Please leave me alone,” or “Please dont hurt me.”

Anyway, now I’m with friends that help me through it and understand.