Addiction, as the saying goes, is a feelings disease. Whenever I used to find myself feeling a certain way, say depressed, angry, upset, etc., I would find a way to use some kind of chemical to alter my emotion. In the end, it didn’t matter how uncomfortable I felt. I knew that all I had to do was to get high, and voila, that would do the trick. Addiction, a feelings disease, begins in part by being uncomfortable with what you're feeling.

As I wrote, some people believe that if you don't have a mental illness, you can't understand someone with a mental illness. I'm not sure this is true.

I have been writing about mental illness for almost a decade now and part of the reason was to try and help people understand bipolar disorder and other mental illnesses. And I have succeeded in some regards. I get emails from people quite frequently that tell me how much more they understand about the disease now that they have read my writings. I am tremendously gratified by this. But, of course, I reach a tiny percentage of people and the issue of mental illness stigma still affects us all. And some people, no matter how hard we try to explain ourselves to them, never seem to understand mental illness. Which begs the question: can a person without a mental illness ever really understand what we’re going through?

Living with a mental illness often involves certain things--particularly if you're not stable: More time in bed, closed blinds, not enough food in your fridge or too much "bad" food in your cupboard. Isolating yourself. Creating a negative environment. When you're recovering from mental illness, creating a positive environment can help you recover.

For someone who speaks so candidly about his experiences with mental illness, it may come as a surprise to find out that I used to go to extremely great lengths to ensure that no one ever found out about my mental health struggles. In fact, it has only been a few months since I started being open regarding my battles with psychosis, major depression, addiction and suicide attempts.

I use the word “doctor” quite liberally and often use it interchangeably with “psychiatrist.” The reason is quite simple – psychiatrists are, in fact doctors, they are just specialists. Yes, that’s right, your psychiatrist has all the rights and privileges that any other doctor has and could probably remove your spleen, if the occasion called for it. Nevertheless, there are some crucial differences between “doctors” in general and “psychiatrists” in particular. And sometimes you need a psychiatrist and sometime any old doctor will do. So how do you know if you need a psychiatrist?

This is the golden age of political correctness, and for the mentally ill in our midst, it simply couldn’t happen soon enough. Horrible slurs like porridge-head, cracker academy graduate, and el whackadente have been replaced by culturally sensitive terms such as, unreality-enabled, extra-normal, and sanity-challenged. But removing the fangs from common speech is just the beginning. Increasingly there is sensitivity about what questions may be considered appropriate to ask a person wrestling with mental illness. Here are just a few of the most common of them, now considered intrusive, prejudicial, stereotypical, and rude. 1. Why don’t you just get over it? 2. Is what you’ve got really a disease, or it is it just a character flaw? 3. Did you ever try growing up? 4. Why is there a duck on your head? 5. Have you looked into Scientology? I’m glad to report that the use of knee-jerk, judgmental questions like these is on the way out. But my feeling is, why stop there? Now that we’ve built up a little momentum, let’s expand the list of verboten phrases – questions and comments simply off limits when it comes to the mentally ill among us.

When people ask, "Why do women stay in abusive relationships?" the answers are often too simple. There could be financial reasons, but if the abusive spouse died, would the victim wonder if they could support themselves to the point of doing nothing to advance their employability? (No.) There are the children to consider, but if the abusive spouse died, would the victim insist on finding a replacement right away? (No.) Although finances and children are reasons victims cite for staying, one true reason they stay is a deeply implanted fear that they cannot make it in the world alone. My abuser implanted this fear so deeply in my mind that instead of recognizing the abuse in my relationship, I instead prayed that he would die. I consciously acknowledged the fact that he made my life hell, but the thought that I could divorce him remained outside my realm of consciousness. Abuse causes illness of the mind and body, and brainwashing sets both illnesses in motion.

First, let's define empathy on a basic level. According to Wikipedia: "Empathy is an ability with many different definitions . . . ranging from caring for other people and having a desire to help them, to experiencing emotions that match another person's emotions, to knowing what the other person is thinking or feeling, to blurring the line between self and other." In short: Empathy is the ability to understand other people, recognize their pain and have an instinctual desire to help them.

It is 12:20 a.m. and I'm hot. Sweaty. And decidedly not hungry in spite of the fact that I've barely eaten all day. Then I look at my thighs. My upper arms. The little pouch of my stomach. And I groan, realizing that I'm about thirty pounds heavier than my lowest weight while in the midst of anorexia. I want to be healthy, right? I want to be free of anorexia. . . yes? Or am I still ambivalent after all this time?