I am not a professional in the field of mental health. All my post about mental illness come from what I learned through years of therapy and through research. Always confide in a professional first. My posts are only meant to give you suggestions, educate you and encourage you.
We all experience life with different perceptions. We go through life’s struggles and each person’s journey is different. What may seem like a minor bad point in a person’s life may seem like a major one in another person’s life. Someone may feel sad about a situation, while another person may feel happy. No person on earth experiences life the same or feels the same emotions as another. Everyone’s feelings are valid even if we don’t feel the same or understand them.
Feelings are a tricky thing especially when it comes to mental illness. It is so hard to understand why a person with a good life could fall deep into sadness. It’s even more difficult to understand how a person could feel so hopeless and depressed that he or she would want to commit suicide.
A friend’s aunt came in my line at work. I told her that her nephew was really struggling with depression.
She looked at me and said, “What does he have to be depressed about?”
I was taken back by her response. It was like she couldn’t understand her nephew’s feelings of sadness. This happens a lot to people with mental illness. Many don’t understand those struggling and they shrug them off like their feelings are not important, when they are very important.
After my mastectomy I struggled with grief for the loss of my breasts. Many of my friends told me that I didn’t need them anyway and I should be happy they were gone. Some said they were envious of me and would love to get rid of theirs. I felt like they didn’t validate my feelings of grief and depression. This made me feel even worse. It’s like my loss was a joke to them, and it wasn’t. I lost a part of my body, a part that made me a woman, and yes at times I wished I didn’t have them, but when it came to having them removed, it was like a piece of me was stolen from me. The hardest battle for me with breast cancer was dealing with my loss, and having friends who didn’t take my grief seriously made me feel even worse.
This has happened with my mental illness too. I had lived two years in recovery from mental illness. I had friends, I was living in an apartment with a friend, and I had a boyfriend. Then suddenly I fell down that hole of depression. I felt hopeless, depressed, useless, and worthless. Some people didn’t take my feelings seriously. It didn’t make sense to them that I would feel those emotions when it seemed like I had a good life. To them I had no reason to feel bad. This made me feel even more alone. The more my feelings were not taken seriously, the worse my depression got.
Years after I recovered from mental illness, I went to a friend’s house for a dinner. There was a group of us. They talked about a girl we all knew. The girl got upset and locked herself in the bathroom during a party. The girl told them her life was hopeless and she felt like she had nothing to live for. The group of girls who told me about it said that she was doing it for attention. They didn’t take her feelings seriously. They thought she was a joke when she was crying for help. To the girl her feelings were real and very overpowering. By locking herself in the bathroom and telling the group her feelings she was begging for help, and they didn’t listen. By not validating her feelings and noticing her call for help they made her feel more depressed, and she injured herself.
When I was in school there was a girl who kept talking about taking her life. I knew nothing about mental illness or that I was suffering with it. I thought she was telling us that for attention. She told me she was sad, and I thought she was a spoiled child craving attention. The teachers at my school never took her cries for help and feelings seriously either. She never got the help she needed because no one would listen to her or validate her feelings. I found out many years later she struggled with mental illness and was never able to get the proper help she needed. She has been living in an inner hell since she was a kid and it led to a very rough life.
Everyone’s feelings are real and valid even if we don’t understand them or find a good reason for them. With mental illness the darkness, the feeling of hopelessness, the worthlessness, and inner anguish is very real. Not recognizing the person’s feelings and letting him or her know you acknowledge how they feel can be detrimental. It can lead a person deeper into his or her mental illness and can lead to suicide attempts or suicide.
When a person turns to you and tells you he or she is feeling depressed, that person is confiding in you and asking for help. Say you’re there for him or her, suggest he or she gets help, and listen to him or her. Don’t brush the person off or ask them, “What do you have to be depressed about?” Never assume the person is just trying to get attention. Don’t turn that person in to a joke you can talk about with your friends. Those feelings the person has been struggling with are very real, and if he or she is telling you about them then it is to ask you for help. Don’t ignore him or her. Validate his or her feelings. Many years ago, when I confided in my mom my feelings, she went out of her way to get me help. Because people who care about me, friends, and family, validated my feelings, I got help and I dance in the light of recovery.
I missed a post this week because I have a sinus infection and we have to send our furbaby, Esther over the rainbow 🌈 bridge Friday. She has cancer in her leg that caused a really bad infection. The vet gave us some time to spend with her before we say our goodbyes. We’re heartbroken 💔.
Anxiety attacks are different for everyone. Many experience symptoms like chest pain, dizziness, panic attacks, throwing up, and so on. One thing strugglers have in common is that the attack takes a lot out of them. It’s hard to go through both physically and emotionally, and it’s hard to recover from an anxiety attack.
The other night I had an anxiety attack. I threw up and then my whole body started shaking uncontrollably. My husband held me and rubbed my back until the shaking eased. That night and the day after I felt weak, fatigued, and drained emotionally. I couldn’t think clearly. Handling the attack afterwards is what helped me get back on my feet. So, I put together a list of tips for recovering from an anxiety attack.
Here is my list:
Anxiety attacks are hard to go through. Give your body and mind a break afterwards. Try these tips to help you recover from an attack. If these don’t help, find ones that will help you. Talk to your therapist about ways you can recover.
Using these tips to recover from anxiety attacks helps me bathe in the light of recovery.
I want to wish all mom’s a Happy Mothers Day. This includes mom’s of pets, aunts who are like a mom, women who lost babies and those who loves someone’s child or children like their own. Every type of mom is special and deserves to be honored. I would not be where I am without my amazing mom.
In 1999 Cheryl Miller was transferred from the west twenty-sixth street grocery store in Erie, PA to the Harborcreek store where I worked. It didn’t take long for Cheryl and I to become friends. We were able to talk easily with one another. We had a lot in common. Cheryl soon became more than a friend. She became a sister and a support person.
When I fell into depression and moved in with an abusive boyfriend, Cheryl stood at my side. When I felt depressed, suicidal, or like self-injuring, I called Cheryl. She would talk to me at all hours of the day or night. She would stay on the phone with me until two a.m. and talk to me until I was calm or started laughing. She knew what to say and do to help me. When my ex-boyfriend couldn’t handle me, he would call her. She would tell him what to do or talk to me until I felt better.
One time I drove her and her baby son home. I was feeling very depressed and was suicidal. I stopped in front of her apartment building and got out of the car. I stood in the middle of the road as a car was coming. Cheryl pulled me out of the road. She talked to me until I laughed, and my will to live came back. I often think about what would have happened if Cheryl hadn’t saved me. I would have missed out on a lot in my life.
I was so caught up in my illness that I didn’t notice the problems Cheryl struggled with in her own life, and she never tried to tell me about them. She focused on being there for me. I knew her boyfriend wasn’t good for her, but I didn’t realize how bad he was until years later. I was consumed with my illness and couldn’t be as good of a friend to her as she was to me, but she didn’t care.
When I was sad at work, she’d leave encouraging notes at my register, or she’d leave me a smiley face she drew. She just knew the right things to do and say to help me get through my rough days. She had the gift to lift my spirits from the bottom of my pit.
She moved away with her boyfriend, and we kept in touch for a while. She moved back to Erie when I started dating my husband. Things were getting harder for her with her boyfriend at the same time I was getting better. Then she moved again and we lost contact for many years. While we were separated, I got better and married my husband. When my niece set me up a Facebook account, I started searching Facebook for Cheryl and I found her. She was no longer with her boyfriend. She was with a man who treated her well.
Ever since Cheryl and I reconnected we have been inseparable. For a while we lived in separate states and texted each other constantly. Now we live in the same state and we still text constantly, we video chat with her sister and watch TV shows (we call it date night), and I have gone to her house for visits.
Now I can support her during hard times and be the friend I couldn’t be years ago. She still knows what to say and do when I’m struggling with my illness. When I’m down, I turn to my husband and Cheryl. Cheryl and I can talk about anything. We have no filter. She understands me better than any of my other friends. I understand her too.
Cheryl often gives me the same advice as my husband does and I tease her and say she is sneaking and talking about me with him. Cheryl reads my blog posts and uses what she learns to help me. I tell her she’s not allowed to use my blog posts against me. She responds with, “Too bad.” I talk over my problems with her and my therapist. I call her “therapist number one” and my actual therapist, “therapist number two.” She calls me “little sis,” and I call her “big sis.”
I can’t imagine life without Cheryl. She has been an important part of my struggle with mental illness. She kept me alive when I wanted to die, she lifted me up when I had hit the bottom of my hole, and she helps me stay in the light of recovery. Without her I would be lost. I can’t put into words how grateful I am for her dedicated friendship. I am so happy that she didn’t walk away from me when I couldn’t be supportive to her. I’m so happy that I now can support her through rough times.
Finding a friend to support you like Cheryl has me is hard, but if you do find one, hold on to her or him tightly. Not all friends will talk to you until two a.m., but be grateful for any friend that is willing to support you through your struggles with mental illness.
Having Cheryl to turn to when times get hard helps me stand tall in the light of recovery.
Self-injury is an unhealthy coping technique where a person causes bodily harm to oneself. It’s often done to feel something when a sufferer feels numb or to deal with painful internal emotions. It’s a serious problem. Knowing the signs of self-injury can help you aid a struggler in finding help to learn healthy coping techniques.
I started self-injuring at a young age by pulling my hair to relieve my inner anguish. When I started college, I tried different ways to relieve my pain such as burning myself, punching a wall, and cutting. I settled with cutting. It was the only way I knew how to cope with the overpowering emotions of depression. I hid my injuring from my family and friends.
There are signs you need to know that will help you identify self-injury taking place with a friend or loved one. The signs are:
You can find these symptoms and more information on self-injury on the Mayo Clinic website at Self-injury/cutting – Symptoms and causes – Mayo Clinic. If you think someone you love is harming him or herself, talk to him or her and urge the person to get help. Tell an adult like a teacher or parent. There is help for self-injury and the struggler can learn healthy coping techniques to deal with his or her pain. I got help and now when my emotions become powerful, I turn to healthy coping techniques like journaling, confiding in my support team, and relaxation techniques.
With new coping techniques. I stand in the light of recovery as a stronger and healthier person.
This is a unedited post. A unplanned writing to commemorate my wedding Anniversary.
19 years ago
I said I do to you
The man of my dreams
The love of my life
During each of the 19 years
My love has grown
Deeper and stronger
Through ups and downs
Our hearts beat
As one
Our love is rich
And forever flowing
19 years
Of loving you
Has been a blessing
As the years go on
Our love will
Continue to grow
Forever our hearts
Will beat as one
When my LO was diagnosed with dementia, my whole world changed and my emotions went up and down. I was too emotional to work on my next memoir. I put it aside and started going to therapy to help me deal with this horrible illness my LO suffered with and my feelings. In the meantime, I stopped writing my next memoir. I found it hard to relive the past while struggling with the present. Now that I am dealing better with my emotions, I am writing again.
This past New Year’s Day, I decided to set myself a goal to get back to writing my book. I put in my phone’s calendar that I would write every Tuesday and Friday. I asked my fellow memoir writer and friend, Amy, to encourage me and remind me to write. Amy has been great; every Tuesday and Friday I get a text from her encouraging me and reminding me to write.
I have been sticking to my goal. Each Tuesday I retreat to a quiet place, and I work on my memoir, The Years After The Garage. I struggle with a few interruptions from my husband and dog. The dog follows me upstairs and always must go out. I write in our bedroom while my husband is downstairs watching TV. However, our bathroom is across from our bedroom, and after he uses the bathroom, he pops his head in and wants to talk. I try to remind him nicely I’m busy writing. I miss the days when he worked early in the morning and he went to bed at seven PM. It was the perfect time to write.
Despite the interruptions, I have been writing. Most writers keep track of how many words they write, but I’m different. I keep track of how many pages I write. I post on Facebook and send a text to Amy each writing night, telling her how many pages I wrote. I usually write two pages each on Tuesday and Friday. I know it doesn’t sound like a lot, but I finished two chapters and started another one.
I enjoyed reliving the Summer Enrichment Workshop for writing I attended in 1991. The program was held at Chatauqua High School. I made a friend on the bus and learned a lot about writing. In the afternoon the teacher took us to Chautauqua Institute, a nonprofit education center and summer resort. The Institute was magical for me and inspiring. I loved it there. I found many wonderful spots to write.
In this new book I still spend time at my grandparents. Instead of my grandparents living at the family garage, they now live forty-five minutes away in a home on endless acres of land. My cousins, Denny and Russell, are no longer around to go on adventures with. My siblings and I must entertain ourselves in other ways. The strong bond with my grandparents is unwavering. Instead of seeing my grandparents during coffee break, we see them on Sundays. We either have dinner with them or come after we have eaten at home.
I’m still bullied in this book, but the bullying changes and I slip further into mental illness. If the garage is gone, how do I escape from the bullying? What keeps me from falling to the bottom of the hole of my illness? How do I succeed when I feel hopeless and worthless?
Right now, I’m working on chapter twelve. I’m starting tenth grade. I have written three and a half pages in this chapter. This book will go to twelfth grade when I graduate from high school. Now I have to start going back to Pennwriters so I can get critiques on the chapters I have written. Pennwriters helps me grow as a writer and improve my writing.
Writing my book helps me help others and heal from the pains of the past. It also helps me strive to stay in the light of recovery.
Many times when we think about recovery from an illness, we think of being healed or back to normal health and strength. Those who are recovered from the flu are healthy again. When it comes to mental illness, recovery has a different yet similar meaning. Most mental illnesses have no cure.
When we’re in recovery we are in a new normal. Our minds are clearer, we’re able to live a functional life, and we are stronger. Despite being in recovery, we still have mental illness, and we must take steps each day to manage it. We still have bad days, but we have coping skills to get through them.
What recovery means to me:
What does recovery from mental illness mean to you? Fight your illness and find out what it means to be in recovery. Mental illness is treatable, and most people can find relief from their illness if they are willing to do the work and willing to fight. You don’t have to live your life at the bottom of the dark hole. You can find happiness, function in society, and live in the light. Find your determination and fight the battle to recovery.
It took me a long time to find recovery, but I’m glad I found it. I live a beautiful life in the light of recovery.
We all deal with stress in our lives. It’s all around us. When we struggle with mental illness, stress seems like a huge cloud hanging over us, threatening to throw us deeper into our hole. To handle that stress, we must first identify the things in our lives that cause stress. Knowing what causes you stress will help you find ways to avoid them and ways to cope with them.
I talked to my therapist about the things in my life that are causing me stress, and then we talked about how to cope with them.
Below is a list of things that cause stress.
These are only a few things that cause stress. Stress can make fighting mental illness harder. If we identify what causes us stress and find ways to cope with them or avoid them, it will help us reach recovery or stay in recovery. With mental illness you need to know your limits and use boundaries to protect your mental health. On a piece of paper list the things in your life that currently cause you stress. Then come up with a plan on how to cope with them or, if you can, avoid them.
Right now, I’m dealing with a lot of stress in my life: a sick loved one, a dog recovering from surgery, finances, and a badly bruised thumb. My therapist told me to practice self-care and to focus on the things I can change and let go of the things I can’t change. By doing this I stand in the light of recovery.
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