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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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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: 

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My journey with mental health has not been an easy one. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression in 2011. I was constantly having panic attacks at bight time which prevented me from sleeping. I finally decided that it was time to get the help I very much so needed. I did, and every since then I can better manage my mental health with the tools that my therapist has given me. There is light and hope even after the darkest of storms. Keep fighting ❤️

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.

So I live with my own mental health issues.

But I have an issue when a group of people bully and harass an individual who struggles more. Lydia is 30 years old and suffers from Complex PTSD. Is Autistic, Bipolar with Anxiety and has Triggers and Panic Attacks. The bullies targeted her for nothing but cause drama. They never met her nor she them. They drove her to a suicide attempt but I am glad I could do an intervention on that attempt. No one was arrested because only Lydia saw them and in pictures or video of the incident. So she is getting stabilized and I hope that these bullies are brought to justice and thrown out of this RV park so Lydia can feel secure and gain some independence. 

  Someone tell me where I can begin. Please!

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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Sometimes the trauma we experience is not definable in terms of scientific research or assessments. Sometimes depression, anxiety, and other mental health issues are never actually diagnosed but somehow those of us who experience these issues deal with them on a daily basis and find inspiration and hope in our communities and inside ourselves.  

I, like many others, have experienced multiple traumas in my life including rape, abandonment, intimate partner violence, a diagnosis of a “terminal” disease, homelessness, and drug addiction.  Yet, somehow, I have made it through these experiences and found help along the way.  Not from the system of care (as many of us know, the system of care is not really designed to “care”), I found help in the support and love from others who have also experienced similar things.  It is their courage and compassion that gave me the strength to keep moving forward.  It is their determination and insight that helped me work through the pain and fear.  

I am forever grateful for those who guided me along the way.  Your support will never be forgotten.  Your support helped me to not only find a new way to live but to follow my passion and help others.  Even though I have been dragged through the mud, I know my worth and value has not changed.  Today, I am working on a PhD. and hope that the work I do, the community bridges from research and academia to the real world I build, can help inspire others.  May you find love and peace in your hearts

Last year the definition of depression to me was “someone who is sad and needs to get over it.” This year my definition of depression has completely changed. On May 2015 I started experiencing panic attacks. They began in the night. One per night. As the days went by these panic attacks started getting stronger and it wasn’t one per night it was more and suddenly it started taking over my life. I couldn’t sleep, eat or even take a shower.

One day I had panic attacks for almost the entire day.. I ended up going to the ER and was diagnosed with anxiety and depression (I believe I also had panic disorder). I was prescribed medication and it really helped me. I also started going to therapy. When I went to my doctor to get a refill he prescribed me with another medication that instead of helping me, actually made me feel worse and created more problems than the ones I already had so I decided to stop the medication and just continue with the therapy. After a month I started to feel better. I was still feeling nervous the entire day, my head was full of all these thoughts that were senseless and silly.

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Dear listeners, 

   I am a 45 years old , I have been through hell and back mostly by myself, because I was and still am “different”. That’s what people like me, meaning a person that has been diagnosed manic depressive bipolar, PTSD, anxiety and panic attacks,  obsessive compulsive, OCD, and Stockholm syndrome,as well as addiction and now know mental abuse and physical abuse. “Different” was what my mother would say about me and to me. I have never told nor shared my life story completely yet for the simple reason that I didn’t want all eyes on me. I can honestly say today….. I wouldn’t be bothered a bit (maybe a little nervous) today to share it because I am proof that anything can and is possible. Today I can’t help but have the overwhelming feeling to get my story out there.Why now you ask? Simple it’s because I have become someone I never thought I could.i have (with my God’s help ) gotten through things that should have killed,would have killed but didn’t. I have finally found me. I would like to just talk with others about this in detail in hopes of giving one person a reason to keep fighting and let them know life is waiting for them to live it.