Hello, I have always thought that sharing my story with the mental health community is important to bring hope to others that are just like me.

I’m a 37 year old divorced mother of two boys. I have been in therapy of some kind or another since I was 7 years old. Mental illness runs in my family as well as substance abuse addiction. I believe I was born with my many disorders that progressed and worsened as I got older, abused illegal drugs, prescribed medication and had my children. In my early childhood I showed all the many signs of OCD. I also grew up in an extremely chaotic family where my mother suffered terribly with her own mental illness that was never acknowledged or treated and an emotionally absent father. My two older siblings coped with this by using and abusing drugs and my older sister was put into rehab when I was seven. My older brother simply moved away and is still an addict today covering up his own mental health issues. My younger sister was extremely emotionally disturbed and would act out violently towards my parents but especially towards me. She would later become a drug addict for many years and thankfully entered recovery 4 ½ years ago.

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I thought that I had accepted my mental illness long ago.  After all, I was taking medication and attending counseling after being hospitalized for months in a state psychiatric hospital.  Here I was an “advocate” for mental health but refused to disclose to anyone that I was suffering.  It wasn’t until I moved back to my hometown and got involved as a mental health advocate for NAMI that I realized what exactly accepting a mental health diagnosis meant.

Accepting meant that I was going to no longer stigmatize myself for being ill.  A condition, is a condition, is a condition.  I wouldn’t treat someone with diabetes any differently for being ill so why was I holding myself up to such a ridiculous standard?  Accepting meant that I was not afraid to stand in front of a group of 20 strangers and disclose what I thought was my biggest secret in order to educate the community.  For so long I wanted change to the system, change to mental health care.  The only way that change is going to happen is if we all accept our conditions and reduce the stigmatization.  Through acceptance and education comes change.

That change is exactly what I am seeing in myself and my community now.  After going through facilitator training for the NAMI Connection Recovery Support Group program I started a support group for adults with mental illness in my community.  I now sit on the advisory board for my mental health agency and my local NAMI affiliate as a mental health consumer.   I am no longer afraid to say that I have a mental illness and advocate for those who have not yet reached that stage in their recovery or are unable to advocate for themselves.  There is help and there is hope.

Hi there. My name’s Briana, and I suffer from mental illness. I really hope that sharing an overview of my story will help other people to not feel so alone. Here goes:

I began therapy when I was about seven, and I’ve been in it ever since. I also take a few different medications to help ease my symptoms; in fact, I’m still trying to find the right combo of meds that works for me. I’ve officially been diagnosed with major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder and “bipolar tendencies”. My biggest struggle is with my depression, but I also suffer from really paranoid, intrusive thoughts and extreme anxiety. I’ve been hospitalized before because things have gotten bad enough where I’ve been suicidal. 

Even though that all sounds very negative, my life has not been dominated by my mental illness. I’ve been able to maintain my mental health well enough to graduate from college with two degrees. If I can do it, I sincerely believe that anyone with the willpower can too. I believe in you and your ability to overcome.

I was recently at a dinner with two friends, when we began discussing mental illness and mental health treatment.

All three of us have openly had periods of struggle with both depression and anxiety, but we all had very different takes on treatment, particularly in regards to antidepressants.

“I wouldn’t go on them,” said the first friend.

“I would go on them, but just until I feel better,” said the second.

My take was the opposite: I have been taking antidepressants on and off my entire life, and since deciding to take them consistently nearly three years ago, my life has turned around. I plan to be on them forever.

Conversations like this are not uncommon. When it comes to mental health issues, opinions are often polarized and strongly held.

I understand that antidepressants are not for everyone; many people are fortunate in not suffering from mental illness, and even many of those who do would prefer to have medication be their last resort.

For me, medication is a part of a more comprehensive treatment plan to avoid falling back into the throes of the major depression that I know always lingers beneath the surface of my delicately balanced equilibrium.

I remember what it feels like to be unwell.

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Hello.  We all can live a great, purposeful life managing Bipolar Condition or any mental health situations. 

The social stigma of mental illness used to bother me to no end…and contribute to my problems!  I’m over that now, but I prefer to call it Bipolar Condition vs. “Disorder”.  I also prefer to discuss Mental Health vs. “Illness”.

My story in general: 

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Hello, my Name is Everetta Moore. I am a productive member of my community. I have been a resident of Baltimore Maryland for 4 years. Prior to moving here I was suffering with a mental illness going back and forth to the hospital. I always had the will power to overcome my disease by just seeing my doctor, getting therapy and taking my medication every day in order to not have a crash.

 I was diagnosed in 1990. Since then I was able to hold a job, keep an apartment, go in society and function with normal people. I have more support in my community. I help others to get through on a daily basis when help is needed. I give food to the homeless. I give away my unwanted clothes. I also provide my service by doing volunteer work just to give back to the community.

I am doing wonderful with the help of my doctors, therapist and one on one counseling and take my medication everyday. I have not been admitted in the hospital since 2011. Thats good for me, I usually go in the hospital at least twice a year.

I am happily in love with my apartment.  I am proud of who I am and not afraid of talking with others. Once upon a time I would talk to no one i talk with people than i ever had in my whole  entire life. I feel safe going our into the public no matter where i have o go. I am so happy just be able to help others that experince what i have echange ideas as to how we can go about making a change for the better in order to become a productive memeber in society. 

I just want to talk to people about my mental health struggles throughout my life and how I’ve overcome each and everyone of these hurdles and how I could be inspiration to others. Through the power of open and honest communication and never giving up on oneself I’ll be honored to talk about my struggles but also my hope that I can give people that are struggling today day with things that they cannot control in the midst of the coronavirus

June 3, 2014

Thank you for your interest in my recovery story. I have been in mental health treatment for the past thirty-three years. It began at age eight when I was sexually molested by a close relative. I did not tell anyone out of shame and guilt for ten years. I became anorexic immediately following the assault, which turned into bulimia, severe depression and anxiety through my teenage years. My parents would not allow hospitalization or medication because of their ignorance and the stigma involved. Suicide was constantly on my mind. My parents did allow for weekly psychotherapy treatments.

At seventeen, I suffered a major mental breakdown and was limited in my high school attendance. I disclosed facts about the abuse during therapy, but no charges were filed, once again due to the perceived stigma. At eighteen, I took myself to the psychiatrist and received my first prescription for an anti-depressant. Lack of effectiveness and side effects caused me to spend the next fifteen years trying different medicine combinations.

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