Some of my most meaningful religious experiences happened while I was manic. Which begs the question: were my religious experiences the Holy Spirit or just misfiring neurotransmitters? In other words, were those experiences real? Were they indicative of Ultimate Truth or were they simply the result of, say, an overdose of serotonin?Read More
Initially, Abilify was a life-saver. My storm-tossed brain was now a glassy-smooth lake. No more psychosis, no more suspicions that the FBI was spying on me, no more paranoia. No more dramatic mood swings. No more mean voices in my head. Eventually, though, I began to notice that not only was I on a glassy smooth lake, but there was no wind in my sails, either. Everything—everything— was flat.Read More
When you're in constant pain or dealing with a never ending, chronic illness—it’s really hard to believe God has some grand purpose for your life.Read More
No, you don’t need a brand new RV. I know you really, really think you've become an outdoorsy person. But that's just the mania talking. How do I know this? Because the real you hates camping. You’re an indoors kind of girl. You like fuzzy socks and indoor plumbing. You like books and crocheting by the (indoor) fire. You require Netflix, a full-size bathtub and a toilet at 2am every night. Camping is not your dealy-o. Just say no to #vanlife.
I know! I know! You’re gonna become a real adventurer! You’re gonna sell everything and live out of a van like all those sexy hipsters on Instagram.
But no, you’re not. Again, that's just the mania talking.Read More
Four days after my trip to the hospital, my psychiatrist asks me if there is a triggering event that led to the downward spiral of my mental health. Basically, it all started nine months ago. The day my best friend died by suicide.Read More
The day I go mad dawns blazing hot.
The heat makes everything worse—like the fact that government agents are spying on me. It’s humbling to admit I have this illness. I would prefer to tell you that I’m actually a really super spiritual person; that my delusions of grandeur and bouts of mania mean I’m a mystic. But nope. I'm just your average, garden-variety crazy person.Read More
Matt is saying words that sound like English but which I don't understand: trowel, vapor-proof stucco-backing, saw-all, channel-lock wrench. I'm following him through the hardware store because I don't want to be at home with my rapidly deteriorating brain. But this world of DIY? It's a foreign, alien wilderness.Read More