The Pursuit of Happiness
Happiness is elusive. It slips through my fingers like a fistful of sand. When I was young I was told to go after what makes me happy. So I tried to go after it, but I couldn’t pin it down.
Read MoreStaying alive: prologue/epilogue
Last week I wrote about a recent bad depressive episode that I experienced. This week, I want to give some back-story, so you can have a little more insight into how I got there. I know, technically, prologues are supposed to go before the actual story but, for some reason, I felt like this is the order in which the story needed to be told. So, maybe it's an epilogue. I'm not entirely sure.
Read MoreMental illness comic round-up
There have been some awesome comics about mental illness that have popped up in my news feeds lately, so I thought I'd share them with you all. I share them because sometimes having visuals like these brings a new level of meaning or depth to a story (especially when dealing with a subject that is seemingly intangible). These comics have done that for me. Click on the images to see the comics in their entirety.
Read MoreOutrunning koalas (why am I writing?)
I don't feel like writing today. In fact, I haven't felt like writing for the past two weeks. And it makes me worried. I'm worried that I've hit a wall. I'm worried that I've lost everything — all of my creative flow, my energy, my motivation.
Read MorePeople who need people
People are the most important source of help when living with a mental illness. I do not say this lightly. Whether it's friends, family, or a therapist (hopefully all three), they are necessary for survival. However, there's something kind of paradoxical about this. When you're depressed or anxious, it's extremely hard to reach out to other people, and yet you need them so badly. There are so many days where I long for telepathic abilities, so that I don't have to pick up the phone and text someone that I'm having a bad day and need help
Read MoreA breakthrough, part 2: depression
If you had asked me when I was a teenager—or my in early twenties, or a few years ago, for that matter—if I thought I would live to be 30, my answer would have been "no". I mean, I had plenty of aspirations and ideas of what it would be like to be 30, but I just didn't think it was possible. I honestly didn't believe there was a life beyond depression. I believed it was out there for other people, but not for me. I thought my brain was too broken. I thought that my depression would kill me.
Read More