Month: April 2015

Pain…In Bursts

Thank you for sharing.

Mad Child, Angry Mama

There is a specific, particular kind of pain that brews, lurking and festering, taunting and warping the hearts of parents like me. There is an ache so deep and so all-encompassing, and still not properly describable. It grows like moss on the south side of the soul. And it sneaks up, unexpected, in the least obvious of moments and leaves a grief looming largely as the primary companion.

There are small reminders….like witnessing the “normals”, or overhearing conversations of more typical counterparts. I often have a grief hit me so instantaneously that I couldn’t have imagined it appearing moments earlier. I sometimes feel like an unwelcomed, annoying outcast, because I don’t make sense to so much of the world.

I hear others speak of their joys, and I am in no way claiming that I don’t, in other moments find my own joys of our journey and feel gratitude for…

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What To Do When Your Cover Is Blown

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Our Crappy Demons

Very recently, it came to my attention that I probably suck at hiding my OCD from everyone, especially because some of the people I hang out with can be rather…nosy.

I was actually working on sending this blog to a few teachers at my school so I could get their feedback on my writing style, the accuracy of the material in this blog, and to get a little more publicity (this ship ain’t gonna sail on it’s own), and while I was making the arrangements, one of my friends came over and sat down right next to me. She doesn’t know that I have OCD, and I don’t really plan on telling her anytime soon. Anyway, she soon began peering over my shoulder and asked me what I was working on. The close proximity between her and I was already beginning to make me a bit anxious, as she had…

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Again Again Again

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Hello internet.

I still don’t know exactly how this is supposed to work, but we’re off to the races. At least I am. Today, was not as of yet very easy going. My partner has once again proved herself to be one of the only and only amazing supportive forces that I have ever experienced. I know that she had wanted to get out of the house and run some errands and browse the thrift shops and hobby stores for things that we can’t afford, which is a lot of fun (planning for the future and the like). Unfortunately I was overtaken by the omnipresent and looming creature that is the anxiety attack. My medicine does indeed work, however symptoms and attacks linger. Thus is the crux of this post. Some people, especially my family cant understand, (as though I do). Medicine is not a fix all as much as…

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Gone with the Wind

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Voice of Depression and Anxiety

Time changes everything. I know this to be true, but that doesn’t mean that seeing the obvious signs of passing is any easier.
I spent 11 years of my adolescence in one place , and that place holds a lot of memories for me. That town , the people, and the house its self.
I went and saw the old homestead today , and it has been just about a year since the last time I was out there. It’s bittersweet. I have a lot of bad memories , and they tend to come rushing back when I visit- but there are a few good ones , too. It’s where my brother learned to ride his bike without training wheels , where we raised animals , planted gardens , and it’s where u brought home my oldest son. So I have a lot of good memories , but they can…

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Thank you for sharing.

a day with depression

I finally did something I should have done at least 2 years ago: I contacted the disability resource center on campus regarding accommodations for my mood disorder. It feels like signing my own death sentence, or at the very least admitting defeat. I would never have done it, but I need an extension to complete my degree (I “should” be graduating this semester) and my academic adviser suggested this as my first step.

disability form part of the registration form requesting information about the type of disability, problems it causes in an academic setting, previous and currently-requested accommodations

I’ve been putting the whole thing off because of internalized stigma around mental illness, and possibly also some ableism. Saying I have a disability – rather than “I’m going through a rough time” – marks me as different, deficient, other. Possibly for life.

My hope for the future has relied heavily upon the…

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PTSD- not what you think

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Post traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD, is more commonly known to be a mental illness assigned to veterans of war. When I tell people I have PTSD, they get this strange look on their face and usually say something along the lines of, “You’re in the military?” or “When did you go towar?” People nowadays like to group together and generalize people with mental illness. Oh, you have PTSD? You must be a veteran. You have schizophrenia? You need to be institutionalized because you’re dangerous. You have chronic depression? You must be suicidal as well.

NO NO NO NO! Every diagnosis is different!

Let’s use PTSD as an example. You can get PTSD from:

  • War
  • Car crashes
  • Rape
  • Assault
  • Sexual, physical or verbal abuse
  • Kidnapping
  • A loved one passing away
  • Childhood neglect

PTSD is the brain’s normal…

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