Picture this: A moment ago I was staring at the blank text field going "Ummm...Uhhh...Dammit!" And then I was coughing a rather nasty cough that lives deep inside my chest and scratches my throat. I slowly move my hand toward cough drops which have proved to be generally useless. I have a headache and realize the Tylenol is downstairs. I wonder if I can make it downstairs. A box of tissues sit beside me where my notebooks usually are. I look up "how long does a cold last?" Apparently, seven to ten days. I am on day three. The website recommends chicken soup. I hate soup. I then type in, fingers moving rather slowly: "depression related to the common cold" although this does not feel common --I think I might be dying. But I am sort of dramatic with these things... I'm done telling about how crappy I feel (insert sneeze here) but I have always felt I suffer from depression when I am sick. Am I alone in this?

If you read enough of these blogs, you might know that I write what I feel. But this often involves a healthy mix of education and sarcasm. In line with my personality, I suppose. But this topic is different. Suicide lives in the darkest parts of my mind; places I cannot avoid but also want to remember. I want to remember losing my very best friend and my cousin to suicide. My favorite cousin. Maybe I should preface this by telling you it will be a bit raw. But suicide is raw. It hurts. And it hurts to write this.

OK. First, I should probably take a deep breath and think about this topic before I start throwing out adjectives. I hate the word Antipsychotic (oops!). I hate it as much as I would hate being deprived of chocolate and coffee - A heck of a lot. I have not used my 10,000 page thesaurus to define a word in a while now so, I cannot lie, I am looking forward to what defines this word.

When you are first diagnosed with a mental illness, your life screeches to a halt--whether it has been moving too quickly or not fast enough, everything suddenly changes. Everything.

When you are diagnosed with a mental illness one of the first things you are told is that you need mediation in order to become well. And this is true--particularly with the diagnosis of chronic mental illness-- but medication does not ensure stability. It would certainly be nice if it did. Coming to the Conclusion That Psychiatric Medication Cannot 'Cure' Mental Illness

I have touched on the topic of taking psychiatric medication forever in a previous post but it deserves more attention. It's a complex topic and something we all think about when diagnosed with a mental illness.

When I think of  mental illness I wonder if I should have a t-shirt created with a couple choice phrases. The front would state: I am Completely Exhausted. And the back of it?  The back of it would state--in bold and angry script, I'm Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired! These phrases have, in part, defined my life. My entire life. Since I was old enough to throw things and scream for hours. Since I was a child. Before they gave me cocktails of medication, age twelve, before I realized that I was sick and tired of being sick and tired--and exhausted!

I hate to admit it, but when you live with a mental illness there are probably triggers to avoid--triggers that upset the stability we have fought so hard to find (Don't Wait: Prepare for Mental Health Triggers Beforehand). First, let's break it down a little bit.

The first thing that comes to my mind when I think of putting my mental health recovery first? "Just Do It!" Yes, that horrible Nike campaign.

I am twenty-seven years old as I write these words. I own my own home and I have a dog I adore. I cook and I clean and I talk to my family on a regular basis.