Mental health awareness
-
I work in two extremes. I am either frantically trying to complete 15 tasks simultaneously, or I am binge reading Web Comics and ignoring my expanding to-do list. I don’t now how long I’ve been this way. I’ve always been a multitasker, but I feel that it’s gotten worse with time. Now my priorities are
-
If you are here Then I must be too So I touch your cheek And lay my head on your chest In the dark When my body isn’t mine And I have no name Your heartbeat is real
-
I almost impulse bought a house. I never thought that would be a sentence I would say, but here we are. It started several weeks ago when I became curious about a house for sale in my neighborhood. What started as casual curiosity rapidly spiraled into an obsession. I stated checking local listings several times
-
My mind is a bowl of alphabet soup. A mess of mental health diagnoses- reach in and pull out a spoonful. Arrange the letters to guess the imbalance that keeps me in vertigo a single cooling blow and I dive into the bowl.
-
I had a bad reaction to my antidepressants. As a teenager I tried Lexapro. Just this year I tried Zoloft. Both drugs are SSRIs, meant to increase Serotonin (the happy chemical) in the brain. Both times I took the smallest dosages possible, and both times I suffered from “Serotonin Syndrome”- a series of side effects
-
I finally had the anxiety attack I had been expecting. With a global pandemic, an economic crisis, and a flood in my apartment, I am surprised I didn’t have a breakdown sooner. Those of you who follow my blog know that I have generalized anxiety disorder, which can (an has) triggered my depression, cPTSD, and
-
I grew up on the coastal plains of Texas, where hot summer storms made music on our metal roof. I have many memories of sitting on our large front deck watching sheets of water fall front the sky, flooding the spongy ground with large puddles of water, and filling the air with that sweet smell
-
I am doing great. I finished school, have settled into a job I enjoy, I have a beautiful place to live, and wonderful friends. I have every reason to be happy- but deep down I’m not. I have depression. I have been formally diagnosed at several points in my life, and I’ve yet to see
-
Better Doesn’t Mean “Good”. I never really thought about it before, but somewhere along the way we started to equate “better” with “good”. But, “better” and “good” aren’t the same thing. We know that, yet how often we tell our sick friends and family “get better soon!” Obviously we want our loved ones to feel
Bringing Mae Flowers 