1/20/2018
I submitted an article to be published through a mental health publishing organization (OC87 Recovery Diaries). I told them the story of my last psychotic break. At first, they promised to publish it on February 14th. which I felt was fitting, considering that I am in love with a voice in my head. Valentines Day can be difficult for the mentally ill community. Voices can drive a wedge through the connection of the day, with your actual partner. I just found out that my publication date for my essay has been pushed back to the summer. Bummer! Who knows? They may not publish it at all. They already have a resident schizophrenic writer who keeps submitting his articles.
Today, I was on a website listening to schizophrenics debate marijuana. For a change, I am not jumping in there. Many schizophrenics just want to self-medicate and smoke weed. I can't change them. At first, I thought a mental health advocate was supposed to affect change in the mental health community. I was speaking out against marijuana to other mental patients who didn't want to hear it. I realized eventually that what mental health advocates really do is try to explain mental illness to the non-mentally ill. I have made a few steps to be more open about my mental illness, but I get really embarrassed about being too public with strangers. I do not want to be faced with stigma and a lot of questions. Expressing myself through this blog suits me just fine. No one usually comments on anything I say & I am not being criticized or ridiculed.
On a lighter note, I am turning 43 next Saturday. I am looking forward to celebrating with friends and family next weekend. Gotta love birthdays. I am trying to take aging in stride and keep a positive attitude, despite all the changes that go along with aging. (ie my cataracts, perimenopause etc. Sorry for the TMI) I am 21 at heart...maybe younger. LOL
I used to think I was a hippie because I liked classic rock, wore tie dyes,and smoked weed. Now that there is actually something to protest, I am MIA. What kind of hippie am I? I have been a hypocrite all along. I do not identify as a hippie anymore.
Is it just me? I have no desire to go to the Women's March. I would probably hear voices there. No offense ladies, but your collective voices would trigger the voices in my head. I would rather stay home with my children.
I submitted an article to be published through a mental health publishing organization (OC87 Recovery Diaries). I told them the story of my last psychotic break. At first, they promised to publish it on February 14th. which I felt was fitting, considering that I am in love with a voice in my head. Valentines Day can be difficult for the mentally ill community. Voices can drive a wedge through the connection of the day, with your actual partner. I just found out that my publication date for my essay has been pushed back to the summer. Bummer! Who knows? They may not publish it at all. They already have a resident schizophrenic writer who keeps submitting his articles.
Today, I was on a website listening to schizophrenics debate marijuana. For a change, I am not jumping in there. Many schizophrenics just want to self-medicate and smoke weed. I can't change them. At first, I thought a mental health advocate was supposed to affect change in the mental health community. I was speaking out against marijuana to other mental patients who didn't want to hear it. I realized eventually that what mental health advocates really do is try to explain mental illness to the non-mentally ill. I have made a few steps to be more open about my mental illness, but I get really embarrassed about being too public with strangers. I do not want to be faced with stigma and a lot of questions. Expressing myself through this blog suits me just fine. No one usually comments on anything I say & I am not being criticized or ridiculed.
On a lighter note, I am turning 43 next Saturday. I am looking forward to celebrating with friends and family next weekend. Gotta love birthdays. I am trying to take aging in stride and keep a positive attitude, despite all the changes that go along with aging. (ie my cataracts, perimenopause etc. Sorry for the TMI) I am 21 at heart...maybe younger. LOL
I used to think I was a hippie because I liked classic rock, wore tie dyes,and smoked weed. Now that there is actually something to protest, I am MIA. What kind of hippie am I? I have been a hypocrite all along. I do not identify as a hippie anymore.
Is it just me? I have no desire to go to the Women's March. I would probably hear voices there. No offense ladies, but your collective voices would trigger the voices in my head. I would rather stay home with my children.
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