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Stigma and Discrimination Archives - Page 7 of 24 - Bring Change to Mind

To Be Included

By | Blog | 5 Comments

So what does it feel like to be included? It’s a rich, rewarding connection. Inclusion feels like the kind of acceptance that I dream about, where I can just be the best version of me and have that be all right.

The hard part is remembering that I’m included. I can’t always do that and I don’t always trust it. Negative symptoms tend to scrunch all that insider- ness into a ball and toss it in the wastebasket.

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Hearing Voices

By | Blog | One Comment

I kept up my pattern of not admitting when I was feeling depressed, of hiding my illness, of not disclosing my symptoms even when asked directly. I kept saying, “I’m okay,” even when I was not okay because I did not trust that doctors would respond to my mental health concerns with empathy. I felt ashamed of admitting when I was not coping with stress and emotions effectively and I was afraid they would judge me or push me to try another medication. In church I did not trust that my pastors would respond with belief in the validity of my illness. I was afraid they would blame me.

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David M

By | Story | 3 Comments

I was taught to be a good provider, work hard, and things will work themselves out. I struggled with my emotions as a youth, and teenager, and wasn’t quite sure which emotions were appropriate, and which were not. I realize now, that all emotions are to be valued and given equal weight, when they arise, something I think I always knew, but didn’t acknowledge until I was in my 50’s. I was forced to acknowledge in 2012.

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EMDR and Dr. B

By | Blog | 3 Comments

After years with my previous therapist, it is strange navigating a new therapeutic relationship. Firstly, it stings a little, breaking up with an old therapist. My internalized shame told me that I hadn’t tried hard enough. My shame told me I was unfixable. My shame told me my trauma was too ugly to be examined. I know, intellectually, that these things aren’t true, but trauma loves shame. Secondly, working with someone new comes with its own set of baggage. It is always a little bit unnerving, unzipping yourself and showing a relative stranger all your complicated clockwork parts: your past, your broken pieces, your hurts and bruises.

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Perspective: A Year In Review

By | Blog | 13 Comments

I had been comfortable living my life in the fringe of psychosis. I worried that my art would suffer. But I’ve managed to surprise myself as a medicated man in that my creativity has not faltered. Quite the contrary—my artistic focus has increased, and I feel like I am doing some of my best work to date. Medicine was key in discovering newfound stability.

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An Ounce of Prevention is Worth…

By | Blog | No Comments

Law enforcement agents do have the right to protect themselves from “imminent” violence aimed directly at them. However, I have to believe, in my clinical opinion, that much more mental health education and training, including role-playing exercises, need to occur to greatly enhance their ability to manage these events more effectively. It’s impossible to expect all to become mental health experts, but their overall responses can improve through this enhanced educative experience across all law enforcement in the country.

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Dave A

By | Story | 2 Comments

The issue I deal with, well there are many, but the big ugly monster in the room is what for lack of better term I call rage attacks. Mine come in the form of verbal aggression where when nervous, angry, or upset I lash out verbally saying some of the worst things I can to the person or persons around me.

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Abimael R

By | Story | No Comments

The illness I have does not define me, I define it. I was always afraid to go out and do the things I loved, but one thing I was not afraid of was work. I worked 25yrs with the illness and I worked as a Truck Driver. I took my meds everyday and went to work. I got Married and had 3 Boys along the way.

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Wonderland

By | Blog | 11 Comments

Then there’s working memory and episodic memory. I can’t hold onto a phone number, much less a name. Storage, retrieval. How am I supposed to recall the details? Just smile and pretend that it’s the same for normal people. I pad my excuses with self-depreciating humor. No one’s the wiser.

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