Trigger Warning: Suicide

I just wanted to give everyone a fair warning that this blog is going to be straight up honest and blunt.

I have a mental illness. I am not shy about sharing it because I hope that it will help others be brave enough to share or to get the help and support they need.

In case you are wondering, this is what I have: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Depression and Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). I basically am like a buffet of issues- a little of this and a little of that. It’s like going to a Chinese buffet that has pizza and chicken nuggets.

Either way, I have discovered something about mental illness that made me so angry that I can’t be silent anymore. I was asked today why I am on intermittent FMLA (Family Medical Leave Act).

I am on FMLA because of my PTSD which was a direct result of an active shooter drill that one of the high schools did where I used to work. The school I worked at brought in three men with assault rifles, shot up the school with blanks and they had people banging on the door screaming to let them in because the ‘shooter had a gun and we are going to fucking die.’

So yeah, getting up and going to work is hard because I am going to a place that doesn’t feel safe and although feelings can feel real, they are usually not true. And as much as my mind understands that, my PTSD and Trauma brain does not.

When I was questioned about it today, I was open and honest. I mean I write a blog for God’s sake. But then this person, who is extremely kind but I feel like doesn’t realize how they come off, said that they ‘understand people that are on FMLA because they need medical treatment but they…

And that’s when it hit me. I told this person that just because this other persons pain is physical and can be seen, doesn’t mean that my disability doesn’t exist because it can’t be seen.

And that’s when I realized, in order for people to believe that you are in fact sick, you have to have physical problems. So it makes me sad but I believe the only way people will know that I suffer and that I am sick is if I self-harm and develop physical scars or if I just can’t put up with life anymore and decide to kill myself.

So do all of us who have mental illness a favor and believe that we are suffering. Believe that we are hurting. Believe that we are scared. Believe that we are triggered. Believe us when we say that we are trying to get better.

We don’t ask someone with cancer to show the results of the tests that changed their lives forever. You don’t ask a diabetic to show their pricked finger or their empty needles. You don’t ask a person in a wheelchair to walk just to be sure that they would fall. Why is mental illness different? I am fighting battles that you will never know anything about and for that I am brave. For that, we are all brave.

Until next time,


If you are suicidal and need someone to talk to, contact the National Suicide Hotline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255).


I’m Great and You Can Fuck Off

I haven’t written in a while because nothing has really been going on but I am writing today because I am so pissed off that some people think that being depressed is a choice. If you do, you can fuck off.

I get really upset and distant when people say that what I am going through is a choice; I personally want to crawl out of my skin because that is how much pain I am in. I hope you never have to experience this type of pain. So before you judge someone with mental illness, maybe you should stop and put yourself in there shoes and think before you talk and hurt their feelings.

From now on, don’t ask me if I am ok because from now on, I am great! It’s a choice right? Just don’t ask me. You can call me stubborn or willful or whatever but from now on I will be the only one that knows how I feel and from now on, you don’t have to worry about me because I am fine.

Peace out,


Living with Borderline Personality Disorder

I have a fantastic therapist, her name is Colleen. I couldn’t ask for a better person to help me through life. I couldn’t ask for someone to care about me the way she does.

In one breath, I love her to death and in the other, she drives me crazy. I hate the way she calls me out on my bullshit and I hate how hard she makes me work and I hate how she knows more about me than I know about myself.

Colleen is one of those people that doesn’t give up; no matter how challenging and frustrating I may be, she doesn’t give up. My last therapist left me at a restaurant so dealing with Colleen is a huge difference and it’s a difference that I am not used to.

I have Borderline Personality Disorder, so I have a lot of issues with learning how to balance relationships, whether personal or professional. I have to learn how to be a person that can deal with sitting in the silence and being able to be my own best friend.

Last week was a really hard week for me because my balance was way off and I was relying on Colleen to basically help me breathe. It was so debilitating for myself and for my family and for Colleen. I don’t know how to describe how I felt but it’s like being a kid and needing a parent to guide you. That was exactly how I treated Colleen; like a mom and I was the child needing constant attention. I am not proud of that and in fact, it’s humiliating to rethink life in a different way; granted, it’s only been a week, but it’s a week that makes me proud.

Colleen is really good at keeping the boundaries to a client-therapist relationship. However, being me, I see those boundaries as she hates me because of my disorder. When Colleen pulls back from me to keep those boundaries firm, it’s hard for me to not feel rejected. It doesn’t feel good but in all the lessons that she teaches me, the lesson always has a light at the end. Nothing lasts forever and she always says, ‘this too shall pass.’ God, I hate that because I don’t believe her but here I am not having to contact her and not worried that she hates me because I am not in the forefront of her mind.

In this horrible lesson, and I mean horrible because of my distorted thinking, it has been a blessing. I do want someone that cares about me like a parent would care for their child but our relationship can never be that. She reassures me that even though I have transference issues (feeling like she is a mom figure to me), it’s normal. However, I realize that last week was too much for both of us and I feel bad that I became that client.

And even though I feel bad, I realize it’s not my fault and Colleen is able to teach me lessons in life and give me self confidence to realize that I am 100% capable to be an adult but the key to this, is to believe in myself and know that I am capable of breathing without her knowing about it.

Being a Borderline, in therapy is hard because I want so much from my therapist; and I want so much from every relationship. I didn’t get what I wanted- I didn’t get a parent but I have a mentor and a therapist that won’t give up on me. Relying on myself is hard and I feel like this is the first time in a long time that I had to do it and I can’t tell you how proud I am of myself.

I am learning skills to help me through life and as much as I scoff at the skills sometimes they are amazing when they are used correctly and used all the time. Imagine that?

Being in my position is hard and it’s exhausting; literally exhausting. Using skills to try to be a normal person and live a normal life is hard and frustrating but I am starting to see that I am perfectly capable to do it on my own. I am not saying I won’t have hard moments or moments of weakness but right now, in this moment, I feel like I am capable.

Colleen, thank you for believing in me and never giving up. I know what you do isn’t easy but you are an amazing therapist and I don’t know where I would be if it wasn’t for you pushing me continuously.

You have been extremely supportive, even when the lessons are hard to learn. I hate that you call me out on my bullshit but, I see now, that you have to do that so I can learn how to be a better person. You are teaching me how to be a capable person and that is something I can honestly say that I am proud of and I usually am not proud of anything that I do. Yes, for me, this is a big deal. I don’t care if it’s a week or a year; it has to do with the little steps that you are teaching me and I feel like this time, I am going to make amazing strides with you by my side.

Until next time,

Thank you for teaching me how to breathe again