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I am so sad.  My eyes feel that heavy, heaviness and I try to keep pushing on.  I don’t really say anything because what is the point? It seems so redundant.  Ok get up, take a shower you will feel better.  Nope.  Ok make lunch and start cleaning the kitchen. Nope.  Ok put on some […]

I go through the motions. I try to get a little work done in the house. It makes me feel like this house is disgusting. No matter where I look, there are things to do. I’m worried that I won’t have enough time to get it all done by Christmas which is over 2 months

Without giving a lot away from Inside Out 2, I found it very interesting. I see all my thoughts as pictures or short videos so the reference of the thoughts all being stored away in tiny bubbles in different compartments in your brain really compels me.  There was two themes that made me question a

I never knew I had limits before, limits being whether the next day was going to be a good day or a bad day. I recognize a pattern of my bad days where sometimes my Harm OCD thoughts become relentless, and I become weaker to their power. On days where I stress because I am

I wonder if there are a lot of you out there like me who don’t really know how to be loved. Who can actually accept the feeling of being loved? I don’t know that I have ever let my defensive guard down enough to be truly vulnerable.  To actually feel important or dependent to someone. 

I feel like I want to write you something different, not the same old mopey crap, one day good, one day bad.  However it is exactly how living with this illness is.  One day is good, one day is bad, one is terrible, one is mediocre.  Some days I don’t want to get out of

I walk past Brant’s room and there is a suitcase that is laying on the bed the clothes are thrown all around it and litter the floor like garbage at the fairgrounds. Then some laundry was done that wasn’t put away and now it accompanies the others all littering the floor. To add to that

I sometimes feel sorry for the numbness I have to the terrible things in my book, in my writing, and of course in my thoughts.  Not for myself do I feel sorry but for you the reader who hasn’t known what it was like to live like this.  I feel bad for you that I

It is my intention to try and explain and journalize how these mental illnesses feel on daily basis. I do not want to in anyway make you feel sorry for me. I just want to either share with you so you feel seen or so your family or friends feel seen. There are so many

Sometimes when I strip all the way down, I am horrified by what I see. Yesterday in a conversation I found myself feeling the same way. I was kinda horrified thinking about ways I could have done better as a mother. I know that due to my mental illness and the secrets I held I