recovery
Your illness does not define you. It's your resolve to recover that does.
This Is the End. Or Is It?
It's no secret that when you're seemingly ploughing through everyday life, with a metaphorical backpack full of depression and/or other mental illnesses weighing you down in the process, life can seem simply unbearable.
Renee WellsPublished 6 years ago in PsycheRelapse
Every day we face choices that can destroy what we have worked so hard to overcome. We don't always notice them, but they are always there, standing right under our nose but just out of sight. It's possible to avoid these triggers if you have completely disassociated your addiction from your life. For some, it is a false reality that they will never face the gut-wrenching pull to pick back up their old habits.
Hannah HomewoodPublished 6 years ago in PsycheLetter to My Friends...
How to write this without sounding immature, needy, or petty is going to be a challenge. How to write this without making you feel bad—oh gosh. If I do, I am sorry, that is not the point of this letter. I just know if I do not let people know where I am mentally I cannot get the help I need.
Yedzayi NenjeramaPublished 6 years ago in PsycheFinding My Disorder
For me, my illness was an old friend. It was something I knew was there, but that I could handle. Sure, my life would be better without it, and it made maintaining relationships hard, but it wasn't that threatening. I was used to it. And I didn't think anyone would take it seriously. I didn't take it that seriously.
Laurel KellumPublished 6 years ago in PsycheBody Image
3:07 and I can't sleep. Once again, it's because I am now so aware of when I am avoiding something and my spirit does not rest until I deal with it. In this case, it's because I've been avoiding writing about this topic, but here goes nothing—no class tomorrow anyway, so I can sleep in.
Yedzayi NenjeramaPublished 6 years ago in PsycheThe Quitter Chronicles
I've dropped out of school way too many times to count. I graduated late, at the age of 21. Boy, did that ever hurt my self-esteem. I'd log into Facebook and see people posting university or college grad photos, while I was trying not to die off the pills I took. This feeling would make me take more pills. Probably take another big gulp of Bombay, too. You obviously don't know my story, but you'll learn my history soon. I'm three years into recovery. I only consume vaporized nicotine and synthesized caffeine now.
James HarrisonPublished 6 years ago in PsycheFive Things That Saved My Life
2017. I think we’ve all had some absolute shockers on the mess we’re currently calling Earth, but 2017 has to unanimously be the most heinous pile of awful the world has ever seen (What an uplifting start, I hear you cry—well, strap yourself in, kiddo, ‘cause it’s a slow burner, this here blog post).
How Did I Win My Brutal Fight With OCD?
I just wanted to share my journey and hope to inspire some of you to get life into your own hands. One of the hardest things in my life was conquering the OCD.
Liepa ConawayPublished 6 years ago in PsycheThe Thorns
At first, I thought that they were roses, for they appeared as so. I was very young when the vines first arrived. They entered through my bedroom window and I remember waking up with them tangled around my feet. I was confused but unafraid; they weren't a threat to me in the beginning. I could see the flowers that were so intricately laced within the foliage; bright red and brilliant, peeking out at me like tiny stars. Their scent was sweet, so strong that I remember having to blink back a few tears, but I didn't mind. Instead, I smiled to myself. Maybe I didn't have to be lonely. I never thought that something so beautiful would have the potential to do me any harm. I believed that the vines were meant as a gift, so when they began wrapping themselves further and further up my legs, I let them. When I first encountered the empty feeling, I ignored it. I let the vines take over, my denial sending me further into a prison I couldn't escape. I clung to one question that thudded numbly against my skull; how could something that smelled so sweet ever have potential to hurt me?
Lindsay HarrisonPublished 6 years ago in PsycheMental Health
Mental health affects 1 in 4 people, yet we still treat it as such a taboo subject. Struggling with a mental health problem is a very common thing, so why do we still shy away from discussing it? Because the truth is, we are embarrassed. We are ashamed that our own mind has turned against us and is making us feel such things.
Voices
Two Voices The earliest signs showed when I was in the sixth grade. The numbness followed by intense elation, I wasn’t too sure what was happening to me but it didn’t seem normal for an 11-year-old. The depression really hit a little after my twelfth birthday. However my lowest points didn’t show until I was in the eleventh grade. That was when I finally processed that something was truly wrong with the two voices in my head.
payton lynnPublished 6 years ago in PsycheHow My Cats Saved My Life
I don’t really know what happened. One day I had the world at my feet, starting a nursing degree, new job, new car, moving into our first home and a perfect relationship. The next, I couldn’t leave the house and I barely moved, if at all, off the couch. I sat in silence most days, unable to eat, drink, or sleep and I couldn’t see a reason to continue trudging along.
Samantha JanePublished 6 years ago in Psyche