Acknowledging and welcoming emotions, even painful ones, makes it possible to process and digest them in a healthy way.
A central tenet of dialectical behavioral therapy became my reality recently; I was able to embrace two apparently contradictory realities.
A reflection on my daily meditation habit over the last three months.
An exploration of a template I am creating for reviews of books I read.
I loved this article from the Art of Manliness: Sunday Firesides: You Are Not Responsible for Other People’s Feelings
But when your decision doesn’t carry moral import, and you make it with all the politeness and respect possible, then you’re not responsible for how the other person deals with your choice. Whether they deal with it resiliently or not, rationally or not, generously or not, is up to them. You cannot control their reaction. And you cannot make your own decisions based on their expected response.
Coming to terms with unnecessary and unhealthy guilt has been a huge part of my mental health recovery process. It is vital to learn how to correctly identify your areas of responsibility and neither shirk nor stretch them.
It’s ok that I’m not that funny. Just because I’ve listened to comedians on THWoD doesn’t mean I have to be one.
Having intrusive thoughts come in my mind is like having a terrible friend who keeps suggesting that I do ridiculous things. It can be hard at times to know who is speaking, but the more I get to know this friend, the better I can detect his voice.
Dealing with OCD is similar to how I imagine the Master’s experience in Dr. Who. The sound of drums is always present, although they may be soft at times and deafening at others.
Mental panic attacks are the scarier version for me because they seem to come from nowhere. Often, my mind starts buzzing and filling up, even resembling the ESPN app multicast feature. Multiple streams are playing simultaneously, but only one has audio.
The best analogy I have found for physical panic attacks is the Obscurus discovered by Newt Scamander. It sits dormant inside of me, ready to burst out and wreak havoc and destruction at any time.
A series with an inside look at the effects of mental illness and the way that I have made sense of it in my life.
After coming to grips with the fact that I have a mental illness, I realized that I am part of the secret society of mental health sufferers.
This never works as a parent. We can’t tell someone to do the action that represents the feeling we want them to develop.
We often attach so many expectations and hopes to recommendations we give others that we deny them the opportunity to simply experience the moment.
There are enough times when “How are you?” comes from someone for whom “Good to see you” is not the correct response to merit further consideration.