Friends, Fear and Watermelon.

Let’s talk about fear. Fear is a necessary part of life. It protects us from poisonous animals, falling from great heights and being in that serial killer documentary as a victim. However, fear can also be debilitating. It keeps us from flying across the world, feeling the exuberance of a roller coaster or from delivering a once in a lifetime speech to a crowd. However, few fears rule our hearts like the snake that is anxiety and social expectations. Sure, the occasional bout of anxiety is simply part of life. Whether it’s a test that’s coming up, a work presentation … Continue reading Friends, Fear and Watermelon.

How My Father’s Suicide Forced Me To Acknowledge My Own Mental Illness

I was a fatherless daughter. When I was 2, my father died. It was not an “accident.” It was not old age. He died by suicide. Every year, Father’s Day cruelly mocked me. My relationships with men were cautionary tales. I was in a spiral. Self-harm, a teenage eating disorder, attempted suicide and depression were gaslighted to a degree in which I was convinced I was a moody teenager looking for attention. Barely surpassing legal drinking age, my life was in such disarray I gut-wrenchingly decided to place a son for adoption to give him his best shot. I still was not … Continue reading How My Father’s Suicide Forced Me To Acknowledge My Own Mental Illness

Auto Pilot

  I hear a commercial vaguely on the television, my son is playing in his room where I hear the occasional roar of a pretend dinosaur and there is a quiet jingle of a collar as my dogs run around. Inside my mind there is a constant stream of disconcerting thoughts I have no control over. I feel gut wrenching guilt, bottomless hopelessness and an abyss of emotions I have no actual words for. It is like I am underwater, my senses are dulled and I am not entirely sure how it is 8:00pm when it was only 3:30pm a … Continue reading Auto Pilot

t-r-u-s-t.

Trust. T. R. U. S. T. It’s this simple, five letter word which holds so much meaning. You lose it, you gain it, you break it and you restore it. Trust is a very resilient ideal. When you are bipolar, riddled with an anxiety disorder, trust becomes a battleground. Who to tell, who to lean on, and yes, who to trust. I shall even take it a step further. What happens when the person you cannot trust is yourself? The line is blurred. I question the most basic fundamentals in my life. I procrastinate major decisions to ensure my mood … Continue reading t-r-u-s-t.