FDA Approves First Migraine Prevention Drug!

Just last week, the FDA approved the first drug designed to prevent migraines! It’s been all people are talking about in the headache/migraine community, because it’s a pretty big deal!

Living with migraines is tougher than most people can imagine. What can be even tougher, is finding the right doctor, the right treatment and finding both without going broke.

Check out a few links that I found to…

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Do I have any choice that they aren’t telling me? I should be able to make my own choices…. this isn’t what I want! I’m 16.

I don’t want to be forced into treatment/recovery! Why can’t people just leave me alone and let me live my own life! It’s not fucking fair! I want to live alone and make my own choices!!! Why does everyone want me to be fat???

I’m back home after checking out of treatment. It was horrible but it made me determined not to ever go back again. I'm trying to figure out what to do at the moment… actual recovery is so scary but I’m sick of spending time in different hospitals and treatment facilities. 
My blog is going to have a big change I think… I’m sorry if you don’t like this but I can’t let other people with this disorder come to my blog and get tips etc.

Chasing Lies With Drinks, and Drinks With Lies

ForLongreads

They found me outside my cubicle, flat on the ground, wearing my winter coat, with my purse slung over my shoulder. I had worked there less than two months. I took the position because, six months after graduating college, I still didn’t have a “real” job, no matter how much I tried to convince myself that sporadic babysitting gigs amounted to what was listed on my resume as…

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You weren’t exactly gentle with my heart.

Mae, not exactly

Why weight is a symptom, NOT an illness and why BMI is a load of rubbish

After the recent fashion shows still consisting of some severely underweight looking girls on the catwalk, it has recently been a hot topic in the news about whether a minimum BMI should be introduced for cat walk shows. This raises another issue; is BMI really that important? Is BMI really the ultimate measurement to determine how ill somebody is? For my GCSE biology coursework we had to pick a…

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I am a fifty one year old black man who grew up in project housing units of Cincinnati Ohio, which were stricken with poverty and high crime. I evolved from a dysfunctional family setting. My mother was a single parent to me and my older sister and was labeled throughout the neighborhood as being a “Tom Boy.” I inherited a brainiac trait from my mother and excelled in my education during my childhood years. Peer pressure and being lured into a fornicating setting before i reached puberty by both sexes (i am currently heterosexual), caused me to develope a mental deficiency and become diagnosed by a state psychiatrist with having Borderline Personality Disorder. My brilliancy, being a black minority, and level of society i am currently in has caused me to be outcasted.

I just wanted to share i recently got a book published available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Even though it’s fictional it’s inspired from my own personal journey.

I have bipolar disorder. I have ADHD. And i have GAD (general anxiety disorder). I was hospitalized this time last year and was there for three weeks learning about different kinds of therapy and being vulnerable. After i was released i wrote a book. And it’s officially published. It’s time for me to stop the stigma control my life and be more open.

I doubt anyone I know today would read this and think of me. I’ve recently been called, “The most normal eater I’ve met”, or “The most organized person at work”. Sometimes I want to scream at them, “I tried to kill myself twice and had to be admitted to inpatient facilities before I could drive, starved myself to the brink of death, stole food and threw up every day through high school, and have cheated on countless boyfriends. I am a horrible person - RUN AWAY!” but I don’t. Not because I’m pretending to be someone else, but because my reality is so much different now than it ever was. Those statements somewhat describe me today because I got really lucky, and I worked hard. I was in pain - so much pain - as a kid, and not because of any terrible accident or abuse.

 I was well loved and cared for, had amazing outdoor adventures through my childhood, but somehow I got the addictive personality from my mom and it manifested itself in food. I cut myself, abused diet pills, threw up all the food I ate, went running for hours in the middle of the night, let my body be used, cheated on boyfriends, abused laxatives - and the mental illnesses I lived with told me I was happy because I was thin, boys thought I was pretty, I got straight A’s, and people invited me to parties. I was so self-absorbed in my own pain when I was 15 years old that I was downstairs bingeing and purging, completely unaware that my mother was upstairs hiding from her friends who were trying to bring her to the hospital after she told them she wanted to kill herself. I was diagnosed with bipolar and depression when I was 15, and put on pills that I went on to throw up, take too many to numb out, and persuade the doctors to change my dose because I still wasn’t happy. I learned at a pretty young age that I could convince people of almost anything if I convinced myself it was true. I couldn’t accept that I was a habitual liar, so I forced myself to believe whatever reality I created (e.g., that I certainly ate dinner, that I didn’t sleep with another man, that I wasn’t throwing up even when I was the only one home and there was puke in the toilet). I buried the truth so deep that to this day, I still don’t have clear memories of what actually happened. And I took out my guilt through food and physical pain so that I could justify why I was so miserable. I didn’t even like feeling the pain, but I felt like I deserved it. Doctors and therapists tried to help, but I was on a mission to be “perfect” - which meant not admitting I was suffering from severe depression and hormonal imbalances. 

The chaos slowed as I matured - I kept myself in therapy, especially after I lost my mom to cancer when I was in college. She was the only one who stuck by my side through every appointment, every night in the hospital, and every time I cried and found the strength to reach out to someone (rarely). And then she was gone. I was so lost in the world because for so many years, I had wanted to die because I hated myself - but when I was faced with actual death, I had a shift in consciousness. I began to want help. It took years, but I slowly added love back into my life. It sounds so corny I deleted that line twice, but the first time I was admitted to the hospital, they asked me a question I’ve recalled many times. They said, “What do you do for fun?” At that time, with a heart rate so low it constantly set off alarms, my weight so low I couldn’t stand up without passing out, I couldn’t think of a single thing. I didn’t even hate myself - I was so depressed, I was beyond caring. I forgot what it was to enjoy. In my second hospital admittance, I was asked the same question. That time, I had photography and reading on my list - two activities that were allowed while I returned to a healthy body weight. The third time, I had a handful of activities. As time went on, I brought that statement up to various therapists, and the list continued to grow. Losing my mom wasn’t a switch that flipped - I was lucky enough to survive mental illnesses, to have had access to therapy, and to have had the determination to pursue therapy. It took over a decade, but today I actually find myself stressed at choosing what to do with my free time because there aren’t enough hours to pursue all the things I love. If you need help, reach out and don’t stop until someone grabs your hand. I know it’s hard, but we live in an age where there is a program or person who can start to bring you out of the darkness. My memories feel like another lifetime, one that might not even be mine. Keep following the bright spots. It gets better beyond your wildest dreams.

Most recently. I’ve been in Crisis since last night. I had a disciplinary discussion with My Boss about colleagues forwarding my emails to My Boss, because the tone in my emails is bad or my emails are too detailed, which makes them hard to understand etc. 

I had my HR Team start an investigation on my behalf and I submitted time off for the next 4 workdays. The Hospital Psych Wards I’ve been admitted to in NJ and NY have terrible environments and I don’t get better.

With the above being said, I’m searching for the Top 10; 30 to 60 Day Mental Health Facilities in the U.S. If anyone can help me with this it would be greatly appreciated!

My Mental Health/Psychiatric Care History:

1) I suffer from Depression and GAD since 2005, which I was diagnosed with after a DWI with a Hit & Run. I was mandated to treatment by the Court
2) I suffer from Bi-Polar and ADD, which I was diagnosed with in 2012
3) I’ve been hospitalized “5” times since 2012 at “2” different hospitals “both” are located in NJ
5) During my 5th Hospitalization I underwent “13” ECT Treatments
4) I attended Intensive Outpatient Programs in NJ after every hospitalization
5) As of today I’m searching for a higher level of care at a Residential Mental Health Facility for a duration of at least 30 to 60 Days. “2” Weeks in a Hospital Psych Ward is not cutting it for me
6) Currently I’m on a plethora of Psychiatric Medication: Lithium, Klonopin, Effexor XR, Seroquel XR and Vyvanse
7) Other pills I take include: Dopa Mucana, Fish Oil, Vitamin D, Multivitamin for Men, Irbesartan (Blood Pressure) and Atorvastatin (Cholesterol)

Thank you for reading my story and please continue the fight against Mental Health Stigma in the U.S. and abroad. Also, I hope everyone who is struggling with Mental Health Illnesses finds a way to fight their demons and finally have the opportunity to live a normal life!

I began having delusions and hearing voices and thinking I was being followed at age 16, during my junior year of high school.  Oh yes.  I was crazy.  I thought everyone was after me:  the KGB, the CIA, the FBI, the Mafia and the space aliens, not to mention some of my friends and acquaintances.  I was paranoid about my mother and attacked her.  I went from a straight A student to not being able to read a book because my mind was to distracted.  Luckily, I met Dr. DiFrancisco.  He asked me to try some medication.  The first drug I tried was Stellazine.  It was a miracle worker.  I have always done very well on the older medications.  I have been taking thiothixine, which is generic for navane since 1981.  It works the best for me with minimal side effects.  

I know I have been warned about tardive dyskinesia, but there is some price to pay.  I like to sleep, as I have all along the years.  I still need 12 hours most days.  But that has not kept me from getting married, getting a bachelors degree, and a masters degrees.  I have always worked and now draw retirement and work part time.  However, I do not have children, which is fine by me.  I enjoy my nieces and nephews.  I enjoy my high school and young adult students studying for their GED/HSE.  Recently, my psychiatrist, actually a PA who has much knowledge, but is not a specialist in my area, asked me to try Latuda.  The only reason I considered it was the pharmacies locally were not supplying either thiothixine or navane.  I was beside myself.  The six months of going down hill and frightening my family after all these years was not good.  Thanks to God or whoever heard my cry to keep the thiothixine in stock at the local CVS was renewed.  My subscription is no trouble to refill at this time.  However,  I am pretty much beyond most stigmas for schizophrenia.  I just hate to let anyone at work know.  There is definitely a feeling of incompetency that co-workers will put on me, even though I am doing the same thing, they just want to believe I am exhibiting symptoms.

Anyway.  I feel it is time for me to be much more proactive on behalf of the mentally ill like myself.  I am especially desperate to make sure they never take away my medication that works so well for me.  I would like to contribute to NAMI and other special needs organizations.  I am also looking for a legal advocate, in case something happens to me and my family can not make the best decisions.  Myself and my family will need professional advocacy as I continue to get older.

Thanks for reading.  I look forward to sharing some of my insights over the years.  For example:  the devastation of facing the truth that I would have to take medication the rest of my life at age 18, and how I figuratively swallowed that pill.  I also have been persuaded to go off my meds at very times.  That did not last long; good grief!  I have also tried thorazine, haldol, moban, geodine, and respiradol, in addition to latuda.  Amen to taking Navane or its generic, thiothixine.  I am now age 59, a widow in recovery steps.  Cheers!

.

My name is Katie K. and I am a young adult student living in North Carolina. I have been diagnosed with everything under the sun and put on every medication you can think of. However, I always knew I was “different.” Most kids were interested in soccer or cheerleading. I was focused on germs and my thoughts. Other children were outside their head and I was stuck inside mine. As I reached puberty my obsessions grew worse but I didn’t have a name for them. I knew they were beginning to affect my every day life and also those around me. That is when I went to my pediatrician. I was diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and put on medication. After later researching OCD it was no surprise I was diagnosed with it. I would always feel as though my mind was against me. I would wonder if my mind was ever going to be on my side again? Along with the obsessions came the compulsions. Along with the compulsions, the depression and anxiety. Then the self harm. It was a never ending cycle of doom. Obviously my medication wasn’t working so I switched from a pediatrician to a pediatric psychiatrist. She changed my med cocktail and gave me some reassurance that these mental disorders could be treated. She also suggested I see a therapist and try attending a support group. I thought she was crazy but I wanted to get better so I was willing to try anything. I found NAMI and quickly became a member. After trying her suggestions, and some trial and error, my OCD was in remission. I worked hard in therapy and opened myself up to the process. I de-stigmatized the idea of support groups and actually learned a lot as well as met others who “got it.” Also, I stuck with the medicine and gave it a chance to work. Which for me was about a month. After all that progress, I was in pretty good shape. Not to say that I did not still struggle with behavioral health issues or would not need my meds, therapy and peer support, but I achieved something. My extremely hard work paid off. And it was extremely hard. I had to learn to say no to my compulsions and use my many new coping skills, I had to learn to set boundaries, I had to learn to take my medication regularly even when I felt fine, I had to learn to delve deep into my mind during therapy, I had to learn to trust others, and most importantly I had to learn to trust myself. At times I was struggling so badly that I did not want to live. I could not find a reason to. Today, I have hope. I have faith. Over the years I have continued to struggle and have even been admitted to several residential and outpatient treatment centers. At my lowest, I have even resorted to substance use. However, through determination and faith I have never stopped fighting, Now, I use many of NAMI’s resources to supplement my mental health and substance use recovery and I am actually looking into attending a training to help others who were where I was. My journey will not always be easy but it will be worth it. I am no longer ashamed of who I am.

Long story short, the Pasco County Sheriffs Office, which has been involved with evidence and witness tampering in the past, is still involved with not only that, but RICO Act violations, which has been alleged in the past as well. They did not learn from their past “mistakes” and are now doing it to me.

I can prove it, but I was not permitted to tell my side of the story.

Up to my current situation, I have always admired police.

I have submitted my evidence to the proper federal authorities. In the meantime, I have a Calendar Call at court tomorrow. I had to fire my lawyer for being incompetent, for ignoring exculpatory evidence, not even lifting a finger to help find a witness who will tell the truth. I can only submit the documents that the lawyer neglected to do. I am alone with this, and every day is agony and despair because of these liars. I bounce back occasionally, but I bounce a shorter distance with each recovery. Don’t know if I will survive this, so just an FYI: Be careful who and what you support and call a “hero”. There is nothing heroic about collusion  tampering with evidence in order to get a man incarcerated.

After years of substance use, abuse, and binging I have drug free and clean for almost 16 months.  I had stopped many times but relapsed many times also. Today my life differs from what it used to be.  I know I have a mental condition which has improved with medications and psychotherapy.  I cope with life differently by talking to my real friends, family members, and professionals.  

I want to share my experience with you to let you know  there is help for recovery and healing.  You just have to ask for help when you need it

I have experienced dark days in my lifetime and I know dealing with a mental illness can be stressful and draining.  It is important to trust someone to ask for help.

I started, “Let’s Talk Augusta”, which is an Emotional Support  Hotline for Georgia.  I am passing out cards in the community as well as posing signs on the roadside for people to  call this hotline if they need someone to talk  to.  I was able to purchase materials through donations.  

I am a 77 year old white male with a diagnosis of major depressive disorder, or, as previously known, clinical depression.

For a depressive like me, life hasn’t always been easy and I have experienced suicidal ideation often, which sometimes has lead to suicidal intent.  In my late 20s, a suicide attempt (by strangulation) was nearly successful, and that’s when I got help. 

I am alive today (and glad of it) because I got the help I needed: medication and therapy were surely my lifesavers.

Please, to all people, and especially young people, if you are experiencing suicidal anguish and just want to end things, don’t do it.  You can still have a rich and rewarding life, believe me.  I’ve had a successful and rewarding career, 4 children, and an amazing wife who always had my back and I know she loves me deeply.  Soon we’ll celebrate our 50th anniversary.

It does not matter that I still need my medications & therapist even after a lifetime.  I’m alive because of it. 

I have borderline personality disorder and depression anixty and psychosis it is hard to live with all these but I am strong I went to the hosplitle for my psychosis and depression. Your not alone I been to the hospice for my borderline personality disorder. I cry I fight it through you ar not alone I would cope with thinking my happy place

My name is Hannah Stark. I’m from an Atlanta Georgia however I presently live in Boone North Carolina. My main purpose for existing is to help others. I realized from a young age that I had a huge purpose in this world. My current mission is to break the sigma of mental illness, explicitly bipolar disorder. To acquire an unmistakable comprehension of my life I need you to tune in to my story.

Growing up I was consistently an overachiever. From the external glancing in it looked as though I had the “perfect”life. Little did they know it was the perfect illusion.
I was in front of an audience consistently competing in pageants and competitive cheer. I won nearly all that I contended in, and I made straight A’s.
I needed to be amazing inside and out, so I figured I ought to endeavor to have the “perfect” body also. This lead me down a hazardous way that nearly cost me my life.
At just twelve years old I was diagnosed with anorexia. I laid in the emergency clinic bed feeling hopeless, however I realized my story should not end at only twelve years of age.
In the interim, while I was battling anorexia, I was in the mist of filming a TV show. A couple of months after I left the emergency clinic I shared my story on Lifetime TV.
That was a groundbreaking moment for me, because I witnessed the number of individuals I could help by simply sharing my story.
After that I buckled down on my recovery. It was difficult, however it was worth it. After three years I was completely recovered from anorexia, and I thought my fight was finished. Much to my dismay I realized that anorexia was just the icing on the cake to my true illness.
When I hit puberty my mind changed somewhat. I didn’t act or think like I used to. My brain wouldn’t quiet down. I began to go days without resting, and I realized something wasn’t right. My outrage was at an unequaled high, as was my fixation. I faced challenge and I was occupied with wild conduct. After I descended from "celebrating good times” I fell into a profound wretchedness.
I was suffocating in bitterness, yet then half a month later I would feel like I was on top of the world and in charge once more. This vicious cycle proceeded for quite a long time, and at age 19 I was at my limit. My mom made me search for help. At that point my psychiatrist diagnosed me with bipolar 1 disorder. This finding was difficult to hear, yet I really felt a good feeling. Everything appeared well and good. I began taking the medication I should and going to treatment. I felt incredible, and my life was beautiful again.
My message to everybody is it’s OK not to be OK. Likewise, it’s OK to be bipolar! I’m currently in school studying brain science and I intend to go to clinical school after. I realize that one day I can help other people hands on. Up to that point, I urge you to search for treatment and not fear your analysis. Numerous individuals are battling and they are depending on you to improve so you can be a voice for them. I turned my mess into my message and so can you!

What are you working through? I bet you’ll find out that you are not alone.

Sometimes, when you’re doing well in life, you can hide the fact that you’re hurting. Even from yourself. If this resonates for you, know you are not alone.

At this moment, as we kick off mental health awareness month, I am grateful for my emotional strength and security. But I’d be a fraud to pretend I’ve always been this way.

When I sit to reflect with compassion, I recall the decade-plus of impulsive and risky behavior, the deep and loving relationships that were damaged, the escapism through work, sex, drugs, and alcohol, and the neglect of my own well-being as well as the family dynamics that I’d later discover were at the route of it all.

I was 15 years old when I smoked my first joint. I was away at school on the train tracks behind the pizza shop. I wanted to show the world that I had an edgy side. I got sick and had to hide away for the night, to not get found out, and kicked out of school.

The first of many blackouts from drinking came my freshman year of college. I couldn’t tell you the specific time.

A bit of an introvert until I warm up, that first line of cocaine at around 17, gave my confidence a boost and started a dark-secret relationship that would last almost 20 years.

I started taking my addiction and work-life balance seriously

My first panic attack came at about the age of 25. Induced by a prank by my boss, the morning after a holiday party, in which I was convinced I was going to lose my job. I’m glad I can finally laugh along with the joke.

My first session with a therapist happened about a year later. Though it would take several years to find someone I trusted and to fall into a groove.

In my late 20s as a rising middle manager, my anxiety became more chronic and signs of depression more apparent. I started taking my addiction and work-life balance seriously, but this journey was far from the end.

Late nights, several promotions, intense and failed relationships, and life transitions elapsed in a phase of life that now seems suspended in time. I remember sneaking out of work for group therapy, telling people I had an early evening yoga class. It was the truth some of the times.

My older brother’s stroke in 2017 started a major shift in my life. And his passing in 2019 brought me to a full stop. I retreated to the toxic coping mechanisms for one night more, and I thought my heart was about to explode. My system seized up and a message received. I was approaching my rock bottom and it was my choice if I’d let momentum keep pulling me to the end.

It took me at least 20 years, arguably more, to see the pain I was avoiding. It’s with this awareness and compassion that I know, mental health affects all of us.

My parents are still uncomfortable with these conversations, as I watch them numb their traumas away in their own ways. Most times we chalk it up to generational differences. But I’m not giving up. I see the pain that is released when gentle conversations allow them to open up about the moments that still bring them pain. And hearing them share, brings me healing too.

I’m not a therapist, but I see healing just the same. We all have the power to help each other be seen. We all have the power to help people release trauma by allowing their painful stories to be heard.

Depression, anxiety, autism, eating disorders, sleep issues, sex addiction and substance abuse are all mental health conditions that, when you look within and around you, you begin to realize, we are all trying to live and thrive with. In my eyes, mental health awareness month should be seen as a celebration rather than merely an advocacy campaign based on the sheer scale of the people whose lives the issue touches. The problem is, we as a society haven’t fully moved into embracing the reality of our traumas and the effects left behind on our collective mental health. Further, as a result, we haven’t invested enough systemically or individually to soften the shame and fear that hinders progress and to put in place infrastructure to support the gentle healing of our people.

That dark period of my life was me. And the trauma that I carried remains here. I can feel the shame, sadness, and anger I felt, losing power over me, each time that I find the strength to expose the stories that feed the feelings. This is why it’s important to continue sharing my truth and using my example to show others that they are not alone.

What Problems Can My Therapy Helps With?

Anxiety.
Chronic stress due to accumulating minor issues.
Depression.
Emotional distress.
Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)
Problems associated with a chronic disease like cancer, heart disease, or diabetes.

I have been giving some therapy to slaves in BDSM who have some emotional or psychological problem.

The problems you have may not be problems. It is all about how you interpret it! Schedule a therapy at [email protected]

Shanghai-bdsm.blogspot.com

Book A Therapy To Solve Your BDSM Problems

You May Have Below BDSM Problems :
1 Coming out (to yourself, your partner, or someone else) or fear of others discovering your BDSM identity or interests;

2 Compulsive issues around sexuality or BDSM; compulsive sexual issue is an excessive preoccupation with sexual fantasies, urges or behaviors that is difficult to control, causes you distress, or negatively affects your health, job, relationships or other parts of your life.

3 Discomfort with your BDSM identity or wanting to extinguish your BDSM interests;

4 Fear of not being able to find your partner with compatible desires/interests;

5 Identifying or recovering from an abusive dynamic in a BDSM relationship;

6 Guilt and shame about accidentally hurting your partner or crossing your partner’s boundaries or failure in meeting your partners expectations ;

7 Lack of clarity around sexual interests or type(s) of sensation or power dynamics that would be most satisfying;

8 Mismatch in sexual preferences within a relationship;

9 Difficulty sharing BDSM community space with a former partner after a breakup.

Where do I find a BDSM Therapist?

You can always come to Mistress Alessandra to talk about a range of issues related to kink and BDSM.
As a very experienced specialist in BDSM, i am very comfortable discussing all matters related to fetish, sexuality and dominant/submissive-issues within relationships—nothing is taboo here in my practice! During Therapy session with me, you will be treated as an individual, without being confined by any labels or preconceived ideas.

Email me at [email protected] to book a bdsm therapy now!
Shanghai-bdsm.blogspot.com

thisisocd:

hug-ghosts:

Give your OCD a name.

Naming your OCD may be helpful. A name may help you detach yourself from OCD, and think of OCD as a seperate entity to you.

Suggestions: the Annoyance, Mickey Mouse, Mr Edgelord, the Monster, and the Jerk.

Interesting idea!  I definitely agree that seeing your OCD as separate from yourself is important.  You are not defined by your OCD!  At the same time, it’s okay to feel like it’s affected who you are!  THERE IS NO RIGHT ANSWER HERE.

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