I am thankful I am alive. I want to give back. I have learned to love me. So I have learned to love the people around me. Never ever give up. Every hard step taught me something. So it WILL do the same for you. I am grateful for my life. I have added value to the lives of people around me. SO WILL YOU.
Our cognitive abilities are what set us apart from the rest of the life forms on this big, blue marble. The schizophrenic with their cognitive dysfunctions might seem less human to other bipeds at the shopping mall. On the surface. Peel away the stigma and we’re just like the rest of the shoppers experiencing the holiday music wafting through the stores, the gentle ring of Santa’s bell by the charity basket, the muted waves of conversation washing up on the shores of the gift wrapping station.
We all react to stress differently. Some people have panic attacks while others completely shut down and form this unstable mound of anxiety. I am the latter type. Hello, nice to meet you I am Nainika and I am on the Teen Advisory Board for BC2M and I’d love to…
My name is Sarah Mazaheri Jones. I am a psychiatrist. And I want to tell you why choosing a career in mental health would be a beautiful option.
We do all the normal things while overriding the insecurity and uncertainty that self-stigma hammers us down with. We manage that, which takes a certain strength. So be proud. Take time to practice some self-care in your own inimitable way. Live your best life. You deserve it.
Finally, a few months ago, I opened up my drawers, armoire and closet and got rid of 90% of my clothes. As soon as I ditched the mentality that I should be fitting into my clothes and embraced the idea that my clothes should fit my body as it is now, and my life as it is now, I immediately felt a sense of relief. By letting go of all the old clothes, I was removing the opportunity to compare or shame myself back into a body that was never truly mine to begin with.
Then as life does, something happened during my darkest of moments, when I couldn’t see a light – much less one at the end of any tunnel- I found refuge. Something that helped hold things together. Something that made me feel human. Something that made me feel alive.
We are constantly told that bipolar is not something that can be cured. And that may definitely be true. But what we need to start telling each other is that there is a better way to live with it. Whether it comes in waves of hours, weeks, or months. We are the only ones in charge of taking care of ourselves.
Since getting my medications adjusted sixteen months ago, I’ve become incrementally capable of responding to the common reality despite schizophrenia’s influence. I’m more keenly aware of the difference between what I think is happening and what is actually happening. I’m growing more adept at handling reality as it comes to me, carefully sidestepping any mental pitfalls that might otherwise derail my ensuing thoughts and reactions.
Stress can be insidious, because it usually builds slowly in our lives. As we grow up, we take on one challenge, then another, social obligations pile up, responsibilities, bills … then, life shows us her teeth. Unfortunate things may happen, on top of everything else, which has already been stretched so tightly and worn so thin.
