Come Alive
We can fight hard for others, but we cannot fight their battles. We are enough. They are enough. But what we do for them, sometimes, is not enough to save them.
Topic: depression
K(no)w Hope
Just like you, I still get stuck in moments. There are days I wake to that can seem overwhelming. Mostly, however, I find today—the present—to be a gift.
Allowing Myself to Be Known
If I couldn’t even rationalize my mental illness to myself, how could I ever explain it to anyone else?
What I Wish I Knew as a Young Person Struggling with Being Queer
If I could go back and talk to my younger self who buried her queerness, who felt so much pain and distress over who she was, I would tell her it’s okay to be confused.
It’s the Most Difficult Time of the Year
The holidays do not need to be happy or merry to be beautiful and valuable and worthy of life. The people who love you don’t need you to fake a smile or a laugh, they just need you.
Welcome to Midnight
The ball drops and fireworks. Resolutions are made. People scream and people kiss and is it possible to change? Is it really truly possible to leave the past behind?
The Reality of “Getting Better”
Better, when it comes to mental illness, isn’t charted with benchmarks or being able to say “I’m cured.”
The Catalyst of a Broken Heart
After my sister died, I did a lot of walking. I’d walk loops in woods behind my house; two, three, four times on the same trail.
I Was a Suicidal Therapist
I sat in an office all day telling clients all of the reasons to live, all of the ways to get out of depression, all of the things that made them important and why the world needed them. And I felt like a hypocrite each day, never believing a word I said when it came to myself.
Tell Them
When I used to feel suicidal, I felt so detached and numb. But having people vocalize their support—friends, family and therapists—made such a lasting impact, even though I didn’t realize it at the time.
How I Discovered My Depression—and Began to Confront It
I Found Therapy Through Music
Hilary’s death was a turning point in my life. I had struggled with depression, OCD, and anxiety for most of my existence, but I was afraid to tell anyone, except my mom, about it. I worried what other people might think of me. But when Hilary died by suicide, I realized I had to push past that worry and speak up.
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