For awhile I have wanted to write this, but I was too afraid too. I decided to because people around are sharing their stories and I admire them for it because they bring awareness and say to others struggling that they aren’t alone. I hope that mine will do the same, this is my story with mental health.
I have changed both physically and mentally throughout the almost twenty years of my life. I learned to grow and sometimes even laugh at some of the mistakes I have made. I can laugh at a mistake, but also be caught up in it and overthink it. I was an odd kid in middle school, I’ll admit it. After I did something stupid for attention, when I was thirteen, I instantly regretted it. People would talk about me and what I did, but they didn’t know that I really regretted it. I couldn’t control what they were saying about me, but there was something that I could control. That is when my eating disorder and obsession with my weight developed.

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This was originally posted 10/09/2013 at http://bringinghomebebe.tumblr.com

This week is Mental Health Awareness Week, so I wanted to take a moment to talk about my panic disorder, which I’ve mentioned in passing a few times in this space.

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This is a note I shared on my personal Facebook page in honor of this week.

Mental Health Awareness Week was established in 1990 by the U.S. Congress in recognition of efforts by the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) to educate and increase awareness about mental illness. It takes place every year during the first full week of October. During this week, mental health advocates and organizations across the U.S. join together to sponsor a variety of events to promote community outreach and public education concerning mental illnesses such as major depressive disorder, bipolar disorder, and schizophrenia. Examples of activities held during the week include art/music events, educational sessions provided by healthcare professionals, advertising campaigns, health fairs, movie nights, candlelight vigils, and benefit runs.

An estimated 26.2 percent of Americans ages 18 and older - about one in four adults - suffer from a diagnosable mental illness in any given year. However, stigma surrounding mental illness is a major barrier that prevents people from seeking the mental health treatment that they need. Programs during Mental Illness Awareness Week are designed to create community awareness and discussion in an effort to put an end to stigma and advocate for treatment and recovery.

In honor of this week I am choosing to share my personal struggles with Bipolar Disorder to all of my friends. Education (in any regard) is important to me so I hope that each of you will take the time to read and listen to what I have to say.

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Guess what month it is??? Mental health awareness month!!  I am always smiling , having fun and willing to lend a helping hand to ANYONE. This is very personal but I have decided to share my story and journey with hopes to help someone else. I struggle with anxiety and depression daily, I bet by looking at me in public you could never tell that could you? Yeah I didn’t think so. All of my life things never came super easy. My parents divorced when I was younger, my grandmother had cancer, my mom was diagnosed with epilepsy, there was addiction in the family, my mom worked two jobs , and my grandmother passed away. It may not seem like much but you NEVER know what someone else is going through because I promise you I made sure that my outward appearance never showed what I was dealing with daily. I held it all in just so I didn’t have to put my problems on anyone else. 

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Hi my name is Lisa I’m 26 But you all can call me Lovely Lady Lisa : I am a recovering Adult with Anxiety and Depression and would love to speak and raise awareness about mental health Awareness. I’m working on becoming a peer Advocate so let’s End the Silence. I am No Professional or license medical psychologist or psychiatrist or even A Trained therapist I am just a recovering peer who would like to spread awareness in my local community.

It’s mental health awareness month. My mental health is something that looking back on my life is something I have always struggled with it my whole life, I was just not aware of depression being a illness. My official diagnose is borderline personality disorder, major depressive disorder, Generalized anxiety disorder, I’m suicidal and I also have been a cutter. Then dealing with losing my mom when I was just five days away from turning 17 and then losing my Dad at 19 has played apart in my depression too. 
But even before losing my parents I was depressed, it has been a struggle everyday for me, I have been dealing with thoughts of wanting to killing myself and sometimes thinking I was never good enough, that I was just a waste of life and it went on for what seems like forever. It seems I have always been thinking how my life is horrible and thinking I wish I could die.

I feel that my feelings started to get more intense when I was in high school. I would always look at other people at school and think how can they be so happy, and why do I feel so sad all the time. But I was afraid to tell anyone how I was feeling because I did not want people to think I was weird or crazy. So sometimes I would cover up how I was really feeling by trying to be one else, I would say things that were not true to make people think I was normal, because in my head I thought I was a freak, and because I was so depressed and I didn’t want anyone to know that I was thinking about killing myself everyday or how at night I would cry myself to sleep because I was so depressed and scared to tell anyone. Like most teenagers I just wanted to fit in and I thought if anyone really knew how I felt I would be ostracized. So all the feelings I had, I kept to myself and I would make up stories to tell other people because sometimes I had wished that maybe if I say something enough times even if it was not true, it would come true and my depression and my suicidal thoughts would go away. In high school I also began cutting. It was a way for me to control how I was feel, when I felt everything else was out of control. Even though I knew it was wrong, it was a release. But today I can say I happily don’t cut anymore.

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This year has been the year I’ve really worked on my recovery and my overall mental health. From a very young age I was depressed, fascinated with death and constantly anxious. I developed major body image issues as a child that turned into an eating disorder. I grew up with a biological father who was an addict, alcoholic, abusive and mentally ill with Bipolar Disorder.

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October is mental health awareness month and anyone who has been touched by mental illness has an important story that needs to be shared. There are people that need to understand that these issues are okay to talk about and feel all the feels.

I feel compelled to share this story about my anxiety and depression because mental illness took the voice of a friend of mine and countless others when it doesn’t have to. It’s a journey, but there is hope.

            “I have a chemical imbalance in my brain. I did not ask for it, nor did a diabetic ask for their illness. Yet, you stigmatize me for mine and call me crazy yet you give compassion for the other.”

That chemical imbalance for me, according to a psychiatrist, is generalized anxiety disorder and depression. Before the diagnosis, let’s go back to December 9, 2016 at around 3:30 in the morning when I was literally catapulted from my bed and my journey began… I jumped up as if someone was stabbing me in the heart. I thought for sure, this is it, I’m dying. Not realizing that I was walking around and pacing in order to decide what I should do next. Needless to say I wasn’t dying… I decided after calling my primary care doctor that I should go to the ER. They pulled me into the room right before the ER pretty quickly after getting there as they often do with unexplained chest pain. They took an EKG of my chest and sent me back to the waiting room. After they took me back to the ER they went through chest x-rays, physical exams, multiple doctors and nurses, and then they said you’re not having a heart attack. We only treat you for what you came in with so we’re sending you home and just follow up with your primary care doctor. What?! That’s it?! Do you people not realize I am actually going to die? Spoiler alert- I’m still here.

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I suffer from bulimia nervosa and it’s been a 5 year struggle. I kept it to myself for a long time because I was ashamed and disgusted. I lost relationships with friends and family, I went through periods of depression, and I hated for myself for a long time. Once I told my group of close friends and received a lot of support from them, things started to look up for me. Everyday is still a constant battle with food, but with the support from my loved ones, I have more control over the choices I make. I am learning to love my body more and more each and every day. Most importantly, I will NEVER GIVE UP in this battle against bulimia because I know I am worth more.