883 Days
I was in therapy for fifteen weeks, called the crisis line six times, and made one attempt to stop the pain. But these numbers are not the ones that define my experience.
1 in 5
People are dying and mental illness is wearing a bright red dress, laughing the loudest, hoping there will be a day when someone asks it to sit down.
Reclaiming Ownership of My Story
Your brain has learned to equate yelling with violence, and your body has been trained to put up all defenses at the slightest sign of a raised voice, especially if that raised voice is paired with physical movement or close proximity.
Happy for a Sad Person
I tell myself to first hold out my open palms for the little joys in life, then to seek them out, knowing I need them.
Relentlessly in Pursuit of Joy
I will keep gratitude journals, I will surround myself with inspirational quotes, I’ll decorate my body with meaningful tattoos... I will do whatever it takes to find joy.
A New List
Today I thought about the ways I could kill myself. A mental list formed in my mind.
A Gift Worth Staying Alive For
Before I came out, I felt like I couldn’t take a full breath.
Capitol Riot: A Manifestation of Hate, Not Mental Illness
For So Long I Believed I Didn’t Deserve Love
Our mental health experiences do not define us. They do not take away from who we are or the value we hold.
Anxiety in the ’80s
Learning to Call My Body Home
I was always just a little too much, even when there wasn’t much there for me to even be.
After Midnight
