recovery

Your illness does not define you. It's your resolve to recover that does.

How 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.
By Samantha Jane8 years ago in Psyche
Long Road to Recovery
Last February, I was in the worst place I had ever been. Drowning under a career I couldn’t handle, struggling to pay those ever-mounting bills, dealing with my overbearing parents, and in the back ground, I was facing depression and anxiety.
By No One’s Daughter8 years ago in Psyche
When a Diagnosis Hits You Like a Freight Train
It was March of 2013 when I received the news, "You have primary sclerosing cholangitis." I had been experiencing intense abdominal pain the previous few weeks, had to call in sick for work multiple times, and had so many procedures and tests done to confirm the diagnosis. All my husband and I knew at the time was that PSC was a progressive liver disease that would one day most likely require a liver transplant (which I received in May 2016).
By Bethany Atkinson-Pegors8 years ago in Psyche
Walking My Own Path
It's fun to go out and have fun with friends. It can be even more fun to throw in a few shots or cocktails while doing so. This can become a pattern, but even then, it isn't always a problem.
By wrae Sanders8 years ago in Psyche
Dating a Narcissist? Let Me Help
As children, we all dream of the fairytale life. We dream of Prince Charming that’s going to sweep us off of our feet. For innocent souls, we had it all planned out; Dating, marriage, kids, growing old together, etc. But, unfortunately, life doesn’t happen that way for some, and those it does happen to are actually pretty lucky!
By Holly Rice8 years ago in Psyche
A Survival Story
I’m awake. I’m here. My head is swimming. I’ve been sick all night. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what happened.
By Allie Stone8 years ago in Psyche
What I've Learned: Four Days in the Mental Health Ward
"You're only sixteen, what makes your life so bad that you want to die?" The red, rough hospital gown scratched my knees; unshaved calves prickled my cracked palms. I kept my hair over my face as my nurse attempted to engage in the long dreaded conversation,
By A Z8 years ago in Psyche
Therapy : I's and i's
Something they fail to tell you once you first entire therapy is that recovery isn't linear. Its ups, downs, circles, reverses, and overlaps. When i first entered therapy, a picture was drawn for me on a straight line; start here, finish there. but after 7 years of hard sessions and fighting myself, I realized that this wasn't going away. It was apart of me permanently. Now, that doesn't necessarily imply a bad time per se. But i will always be different. Ill notice that that our boss wore that tie three times this week, (No Robert, three times. Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday.) I will always be hyper conscious of completely irrelevant things, (do my scars rub against his skin while we make love? Does it make him itch? ) And I'll probably always need extra reassurance. (I know I said sorry when i dropped the plate, but i didn't know if you knew I meant it.. so I kept going until you were sure. - ...are you sure you forgive me?)
By Autumn L8 years ago in Psyche
Boldly Bipolar
This is the face of mental illness. There is nothing wrong with this picture at a glance. Pretty face. Well kept appearance.
By Hannah Wilson8 years ago in Psyche
Smoothie Girl
I don't belong here. I'm sick, not crazy. I squinted into the light as the girl, unknown to me except by her howls, thumped the floor. She rose from the ground, tore every pseudo-inspirational poster off the dank walls and hurled them towards me. "What are you doing here? Cause a pretty little white girl like you sure ain't in here for trying to kill your mama like me." I mumbled something indiscernible as she moved to her next victim. Three white-cloaked men appeared, shot a liquid into her backside, and dragged her away.
By Anna Bloom8 years ago in Psyche
It Gets Better Pt2
After having my boyfriend read the first part and explain to me that I focused too much on the bad, and not enough on the good side (and that the ending was so vague) I went back to review it and he was right. I told you guys it gets better but, I never explained how it got better, how I am now. I guess I expected you guys to read my other articles and piece it together. But here we go:
By Em8 years ago in Psyche
It Gets Better
Ever feel like nobody can relate to you? Like you're alone in this world? Like nothing you do matters? Feel as if the whole world hates you? And makes everything harder specifically for you? If so... you're not alone.
By Em8 years ago in Psyche