Goodbyes suck. I suck at giving goodbyes. There are times I’m more likely to fade away than give a proper goodbye. But, in this case, I’m here to give a proper goodbye to HealthyPlace. As much as I don’t want to say goodbye, it feels like it’s time for me to move along.

I'm Michaela Jarvis, and I’m excited to join the "Recovering from Mental Illness" blog to share the stories and experiences I’ve faced on my road to mental illness recovery. This road has been bumpy, often embarrassing, guilt-ridden, and isolating, but it has led me to where I am today. Along the way, I've rebuilt my life and have garnered insights and experiences that I believe can help others on similar journeys. My ultimate goal is to share these experiences, honest and raw, to make things less lonely and more bearable for anyone who might be feeling what I've felt and been where I've been.

I’m Kevin Anyango, and I’m very excited to share my gambling addiction recovery journey on the "Recovering from Mental Illness" blog to help myself, and others stay on the straight and narrow. Five years ago, I hit rock bottom; I had no money, no place to stay, no job, and every little I made went to gambling. Alone, starving, and sleeping on the streets, I took a good hard look at myself and decided it was time for a change.

Anxiety and decision-making do not go together—like, at all. Have you ever seen that meme from the movie version of The Notebook where Ryan Gosling’s character asks, “What do you want?” and Rachel McAdams' character says, “It’s not that simple!”? That’s my everyday life. I’d be lying if I said my boyfriend hasn’t quoted that dialog to me on more than one occasion.

Because I grew up with the label "shy" instead of "anxious," there are a lot of things I didn’t realize I do because of anxiety, and no one ever recognized them as anxious behaviors. It took me reading about them somewhere else or hearing someone else say them for the lightbulb to go off about my anxious behaviors.

This year will be seven years since my cat died, and I’m still not over the pet loss. My cat was a part of my life for 17 years, and it doesn’t seem big enough an expression to describe her death as something that rocked me. Will I ever get over it? I have no idea, but I’ll highlight a couple of reasons preventing me from getting over the loss of my pet.

Do you know that saying that other people’s opinions of you are none of your business? As much as I try to keep that in my head, that’s easier said than followed, and other people's perceptions of me trigger negative thoughts.

Advocacy burnout is a real thing. I once thought of mental health advocacy as a vital component of my recovery process. Being able to speak about things I’d kept silent for so long—depression, anxiety, excoriation (skin-picking) disorder—was freeing. It allowed me to find communities of people who understood and empathized instead of downplaying and stigmatizing what I felt. I would never have imagined I’d get burnout from mental health advocacy, but, truthfully, that’s where I’m at.

I think about diagnosis a lot—mostly because I live with undiagnosed mental illnesses. Even as a child, I never received any diagnosis for the struggles I faced, and, as an adult, all my diagnoses are self-diagnosed. I know there’s a lot of stigma attached to self-diagnosis, but I want to discuss self-diagnosis, being undiagnosed with mental illness, and their roles in recovery.

I’ve never described it in these terms, but I hacked my skin-picking disorder. Excoriation disorder used to control every aspect of my life—physically and emotionally—and I was certain I’d suffer forever. Today, I can share with you that this is far from reality. I might have skin picking disorder, but it doesn’t have me.