It’s been about four years now since I received help from a residential home program. I learned a lot most of all my independents to be on my own again to be with my kids. The structure and effort the program workers helped me with taught me help to this day, I just want to thank Nami for the awareness for mentally ill patients such as my myself. I believe it’s important to find support when in a difficult spot in life. Thanks again for your support that has effected my life.
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#mental illness #mental health #inspiration #hope #treatment #therapy #schizophrenia #depression #anxiety #submission #coping #recovery #SupportHello, 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.
Swimming Saved My Life
I’ve gotten so many private messages asking me what caused this
recent positive change in my mental health that I’ve lost count. The
answer is simple. Exercise. Whether you struggle with a mental illness
or not, exercise is something we all need in our lives to stay healthy.
Being diagnosed with a goody bag of mental disorders and then seeking
treatment, taking medication, and getting support from my family/friends
are all things that help me survive. But I don’t want to just survive…I
want to live! Bringing back intense exercise into my life has pulled me
out of my dark, lonely cave and taken me from simply existing to really
living for the first time in my life.
You don’t have to train
like a professional athlete, but breaking a sweat on a regular basis
will make a huge difference in how you feel both physically and
mentally. The fact that so many of us separate our mind and body makes
it difficult to see exercise as a way to keep your brain healthy. Change
how you view exercising and staying active. Choose to look at it as a
way to make your brain healthy and happy instead of viewing it as a way
to help you look a certain way/squeeze into those jeans that used to fit
when you were in high school.
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.
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:
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.
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
My name is Brittany, and my mental health story is quite the roller coaster, but I am deeply hoping that someone somewhere will read this and find hope in it.
I’m not sure I could tell you exactly when I knew I had a mental illness, everything for me started at such a young age. I knew something was wrong, I just didn’t know it was out of the ordinary. I was raised in a cult or a sect called branhamism. It took me a long time to utter those words, I was always taught that it was just church. I thought that this was what church meant. I won’t delve too deeply but to paint a clear picture it was a church that believed women should wear ankle long skirts, shouldn’t cut their hair, and should live at home and serve their husbands. There was no worldy music allowed, no makeup, tattoos or peircings, no nail polish, no birth control, the list goes on and on. The church greatly preached the end times over and over, drilling it into your head three times a week. I was raised in this church, this was all I knew.
So, from a very young age I began to develop severe anxiety. The first panic attack I can remember was when I was about 5 years old, possibly 4. I over heard my mother in the kitchen speaking with my older sister. I cannot remember the exact conversation except the words of my mother that still ring clearly in my ears. She said to my sister, ‘Brianna, in order to make something right that you have done wrong, you have to tell the person you have done wrong against.’ This may seem like simple advice, but to a five year old, it was the most terrifying information in the world. I immediately went to my room to think things out. Now, there was no one I had truly done wrong against at 5 years old but things seem a little different when you’re that young and don’t truly know right from wrong yet. My wrongs were not the wrongs of others. This is because my entire perception is skewed, but we will get to that soon. My wrongs looked more like bad thoughts. For instance, sometimes I would wonder if Jesus had private parts (which sounds very silly now but at 5 this seemed like a valid thought). However, because my church was very against sex as a whole (it was taught as a necessary evil once you were married) anything in relation to it sent me into a terrible panic. I would stay up all night, panting, crying, cold sweats, just staring at the ceiling for hours in absolute fear at 5 years old.
TO ANYONE WITH ANY MENTAL ILLNESS OF ANY AGE:
(you don’t have to be in middle school)
Middle School’s known to be some of the hardest years of our lives, between hormones and homework it’s tough enough to make it through without mental health and the stigma it so often carries. As it’s impossible to make it through a class without someone making a joke about a mental illness either a friend of mine or I have, I’ve come to a certain conclusion. Teenagers will be teenagers, it shouldn’t be that way, it shouldn’t be an excuse to kidding about things that people truly struggle with on a daily basis, but it is. Sometimes things in life are just stupid, but we can’t let that get to us.
I’m a 13 (almost 14) year old in the ignorant year of 8th grade, towards the end of last year a few things in life went really, really wrong, and it resulted in a series of unfortunate events (no pun intended). Basically, by the time 8th grade started, I had not only experienced my fair share of panic attacks, gone to a therapist several times, but I had also been diagnosed with depression and an anxiety disorder. I had basically hidden from my entire grade during the summer, so as school started up again and I was struck by a mass of indirect insults towards my mental illnesses, let’s just say there was a lot of tears at the beginning of the year.
I’m MERLIN.I have been dealing with mental health issues for many years, more than 25+ .I have taken all different kinds of of meds and have tried to stop taking meds more than 8 times and have ended up in the hospital.a mental health hospital can be a scary place but the people are trained and are there to assist you with your recovery.Since dealing with mental health issues over 25+ years I have decided to turn the tables on MENTAL HEALTH and train to be a PEER SUPPORT ADVOCATE.i want to help other people dealing with mental health issues and let them know that there is light at the end of the road and what they are going through is only temporary.i want to share my faith and help educate,inpire,coach and be an example to others.medication and counseling