Panic attacks, anxiety, depression and self harm. I let those define me over a year ago. That was my reality, and it still is, but this time I am defining myself trough the experiences that I have acquired trough getting healthy. 

Keep reading

I come from a family of people who have struggled with mental illness. I remember my diagnosis of depression like it was yesterday. Next came my son s diagnosis of OCD . Then my daughter battled self injury, depression and panic attacks combined with social anxiety. And my mom has had some form of mental illness all her life, which to this day (she’s now in her 80s) has gone untreated.

As far as my kids and myself, we are and always have been very open about our illnesses. Having come from a family that stigmatized mental illness to the point that people suffered needlessly, I am determined to fight that stigma by sharing my stories with others. 

Keep reading

Navigating a world that often feels cold, insensitive, and unaccepting of mental illness is lifelong work, a healing journey with ups and downs that has no end. As a highly sensitive person who has lived with anxiety/depression/OCD/ADHD since childhood, struggled with self-harm, substance abuse, and eating disorders, and is a rape and domestic abuse survivor, I have sought out many forms of therapy over my lifetime, both traditional and alternative.

One concept that I became familiar with in Dialectal Behavioral Therapy (DBT) is having a toolbox. Every individual’s toolbox looks different and will evolve over time. It is essentially a list of our skills and techniques for emotional regulation, distress tolerance, mindfulness, and interpersonal effectiveness. I would like to share some of my go-to tools for self-soothing and traversing times of heightened anxiety/the unknown: 

Keep reading

When I found out I had a mental illness, it was already so bad. I had tried to commit suicide twice and already got addicted to self harm. I even used prescription drugs to overdose. I got diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety. I was out on this medication that made me hallucinate and my doctor would not take me off of it. I switched doctor’s and now I am on my 5th medication and I have to take a sleep medication, also.

Keep reading

Mybname is Paul. I have been dealing with mental illness most of my life. I have PTSD, DEPRESSION, ANXIET, AND SUICIDAL TENDENCES.  I mention all of thes in bold lettering to offer a hand to say, “I do struggle myself.”  The blessing is I have a job that allows me to give a little bit of myself back.  I have tried to end my life more then once. I know how addicting cutting can be or just the thoughts of ending everything.  I am the last person to ask for help. Even when I should be the first,  I Apologize if this seems to be all over the place. My mind since my brain injury from assault lt has changed my view on life.  I had to relearn how to walk and talk all over again from being in a comma. I do have static paralyses in my right hand. I am so learning how to better myself every day. Sometimes you just need a little help.  Due the COVID 19. I have retreated and not looked for any support on my own. I experience a few NAMI programs. I would like to force myself to make time to manage my mental health the best I can..So, for inspiration.  I am requesting help.  My life is Stagnant and is a lot of struggling on a daily bases. I work as a personal trainer with people with disabilities. It is very rewarding to know that I am doing with folks is pain management.  And is rewarding the little gains of lowering someones pain and mental outlook on what they can do to better them self. Personally finically I am barely making it for for now.

Keep reading

My journey with mental illness started with math. Sixth grade math, I had such horrible anxiety about it. I had panic attacks daily, eventually started homeschooling. Then my depression started up. I was alone a lot, sad all the time. By eighth grade I was frequently cutting myself. 

When I got into my sophomore year of high school, I was hospitalized for the first time. I spent six days there. After that, I had my first boyfriend. I cared about him and my best friend so much. It was too bad they were both extremely emotionally abusive. They game me knives and razor blades to hurt myself with. That year, in March, I tried time kill myself. I was hospitalized again, for nine days that time. I felt alone, so far down in a hole i couldn’t see any way out. I felt like things would never get better. I wrote a lot of really sad poetry. After that, I hoped things would look up. They didn’t. I went back to the hospital again in December of that year. After that things did slowly look up for me. I started using coping skills more, a found and relied on solid supports instead of isolating myself, I started putting in the work that is required to manage depression and anxiety. 

The thing I find most discouraging about my mental illness, is that it won’t ever go away. My kind of depression is something I will carry with me for the rest of my life. And I hate it. I wish it would go away, I wish there was a magic cure, but there isn’t. Something that helps me is knowing that things will get better, but I have to be the one to make it that way.

I’ve been doing a lot better currently, despite my most recent trip to the hospital. I have a good support system, I put it  the work I need to to keep myself better. I go to college, I go to work, I keep myself busy. I’ve been doing a lot better, but there still isn’t a day that I don’t struggle. Though I really believe I will continue to do better.

****POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING****

okay.. I don’t know where to start.. I’m a freshman in HIgh School, at the beginning of the year, I was diagnoised with anxiety attacks and panic disorder. I’ve been cutting since the 6th grade, I don’t eat right, I’m working out constantly, I have bipolar depression and am on medication for anxiety, panic attacks and depression. I dont even know what to do.

Keep reading

My name is Heather, and I’m a teenager from Virginia. Ever since I was a child, anxiety and depression has been a part of my life. I started going to therapists and taking medication at a young age. Thoughts like “What is wrong with me?” and “Why am I not normal?” flooded my brain. It took me a long time to realize that my mental illness wasn’t my fault. I think a lot of people struggle with that.

In 2013, I had an awful bout of depression and struggled with self-injury. I was suicidal. I can’t pinpoint a certain cause, but there were many stressors in my life. I started to spend less time with others and I isolated myself in my room.

Everything changed when I called the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. I called them because I knew that I was dangerous to myself. They helped me calm down and eventually my parents brought me to an inpatient center. I was upset at first, but it was truly what I needed. My medication was changed and I received therapy. It helped me tremendously, and I think being in the inpatient center has taught me how to deal with my mental illness day by day.

A couple years after I became a You Matter blogger for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. I realized that I could share my story. Others who hear it won’t feel so alone. Now I hope to get involved with mental health organizations.

Those who have experienced mental illness firsthand or have family members or friends with mental illness can be voices for those who are struggling. Yes, I still struggle with anxiety and depression. But being a voice for others going through what I’m going through tells me that I matter. You can make a difference.

You are not alone.

I struggled with mental health for most of my life, though it was especially bad in my teens. I suffered with anxiety and depression; the anxiety was so bad I became terrified of leaving my own room and had panic attacks over being around people at all. I was even too anxious to post to forums for people who struggled like I did. As the anxiety got worse, so did the depression. I self-harmed for 10 years, and attempted to take my life three times. I finally broke down and went to the ER, begging anyone who would listen to help me. I stayed silent for so many years, suffering alone, and couldn’t take it any more. The hospital stay greatly helped me, and I have been clean of self-harm for three years. I hold a part-time job, and even have a few friends. I never saw myself having a “normal” life, but it is possible. If you are struggling, PLEASE don’t struggle in silence. Get help. Whether it’s reaching out to a loved one, a therapist, going to a hospital, there are loads of resources to help you, and even more people who care about you, even though it may not seem like it. Don’t lose hope, don’t give up. Life will get better, you just have to give yourself the chance.

I suffered from mental disorders for as long as I can remember. I am diagnosed with ADD, OCD, anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder and a hormonal disorder. My panic attacks started in 1st grade. I still remember waking up or laying in bed at night then screaming in fear. I felt as if death was staring at me and going to take me, the though rushing through my head “I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I should just end it now get it over with.” Over and over again. It lasted for years all through our the rest of elementary school I had them basically every night. I developed a sleep phobia because it always happened at bed time. In 7th grade my depression hit…cutting suicidal thoughts and a few attempts.

It lasted till 10th grade, my improvement happened in 9th after a sorta suicide attempt. It was that I wanted to die but I didn’t care if I did, I knew that if I took to many pills something would happen and that point that was all I wanted. I lived my day to day life with no emotion drained of all energy. At home I layed on my bed not moving and no energy to even blink some times. I saw the point in nothing, I would cut because it told me I was alive and I was able to feel something which is all I wanted. I admit I was scared to get better I forgot what happiness felt like so it scared it. Happiness had become the unknown depression was my blanket.

Keep reading