Many people with borderline personality disorder (BPD) have experienced traumatic events. Recently, my therapist and I decided to work on some of the trauma I've faced in my life. Short version: it didn't go well. I began having horrific flashbacks, strong urges to self-injure, and was irritable. We agreed that we should stop talking about the trauma for a while and focus on mastering coping skills. It took me a while to realize it's not a failure on my part. Sometimes, the healing process can do more harm than good.

I've been having a really hard time. Immobilized with depression. Frozen in time and agony. The pain of blinking keeping me weeping sporadically throughout the day. And so today I am angry. Oh sure, I'm depressed too, but I'm also largely angry. I'm hateful. I hate everything from people to stoplights to walking to moving my eyeballs. I'm just angry that I'm alive. But I have chosen this anger. I have chosen the anger over the depression because it is more useful. It's better to hate everything because hate comes with energy, depression does not.

Part of mental health self-care involves identifying potential triggers and avoiding them or, at the very least, preparing for the impact they may have on your life. Those of us who have a mental illness have a harder time adjusting to life changes: relationships, starting a new job or losing an existing one, changing locations, the loss of a loved one. It is ironic, but positive life changes can also have an adverse influence on mood. It's hard to find balance among all of the different cards that life deals us, but it's crucial to be able to distinguish circumstantial stress from signs and symptoms of relapse.

Hello, my name is Dan Hoeweler, and thank you for visiting my blog, Creative Schizophrenia. The purpose of this blog is to help bring hope to those whose lives have been touched by schizophrenia and create a further understanding of one of the most stigmatized and misunderstood of all mental illnesses.

Everyone has a story about a couple they know who've argued openly on Facebook.  Or the person who was ostracized by their followers on Twitter.  Online social networks can bring out the worst in public behavior for some people, spurred on by anonymity and groupthink.  The average person might be plagued by the public nature of social networks.  However, when you have a mental illness, particularly one with a component of anxiety, tools like Twitter and Facebook can become breeding grounds for obsessive behavior.

Quarter-end parent/teacher conferences were last week, and after meeting with Bob's teacher and reviewing his report card, I'm convinced an IEP is the right direction to take.

Following on from last week's article on why to disclose an anxiety disorder, I thought I’d say a little about when to disclose an anxiety because it is, perhaps, as important as why. I’d been talking about the necessary value of revealing secrets in recovering from a mental health issue. In discussing that, Holly Gray, HealthyPlace’s recently-retired Dissociative Living blogger, mentioned that doing so doesn’t mean giving up one’s right to privacy. This isn’t gossip, it’s your life.

  Have you watched the movie Gas Light with Ingrid Bergman? In the movie, a woman's lover slowly but surely causes her think she is insane. The movie title lends itself to a type of emotional abuse called gaslighting. Gaslighting occurs when someone persuades you to "believe the unbelievable" despite your instinct's whispers of "Something is not right here..."

I live in a small town, and it was very noticeable when I first developed anorexia four years ago. The roller coaster of recovery and relapse also has been very noticeable, and each time I find myself having to explain either weight loss or weight gain. It's frustrating because I am more than my eating disorder.

The curtains are drawn, blocking the mid-day sun on what should be a normal work day. I’m lying in bed now, covers pulled tightly to my chest. The bed has become my haven. My mind races with terrible thoughts. I’m not sure I can do this. My stomach churns with anxiety, my eyes well up, but there are no tears. They won’t come.