Suicidal ideation is lonely and can feel impossible to talk about; it’s hard to describe if you haven’t been there. I remember being desperate for a character who understood what I was feeling, so they could articulate the words I couldn’t. I found comfort in shared experiences, but it can also be triggering when suicide is depicted in mainstream media. If you’ve dealt with, or currently deal with suicidal ideation, I encourage you to check in with how you’re feeling before engaging with any of the below content. But if you’re looking for a shared experience, I hope you find it here.

I recently came across a new study conducted by University College London, via reporting published by The Guardian, which stated that “there is no convincing evidence that depression is caused by serotonin abnormalities, particularly by lower levels or reduced activity of serotonin.” At face value, I worry that this report may do more harm than good.

July is Bebe Moore Campbell National Minority Mental Health Awareness Month, also known as Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) Mental Health Month — an annual awareness month created to highlight the unique mental health challenges of historically oppressed racial and ethnic groups across the United States. As...

A couple of weeks ago, I came out of therapy wondering what happened. I had this sense that I hadn’t even had my session. I couldn’t recall anything about it. It felt like I was completely checked out, an observer of my own body from some planet in outer space. I have had enough therapy to recognize what was happening… I was dissociated. But why?

Living with social anxiety can be incredibly difficult. I have lived with social anxiety for most of my life, and it has greatly impacted my social life, especially as an adult. However, I have found ways that have helped me to meet others and make friends in a way that is more comfortable for me. While these options are not always comfortable, they make living with social anxiety and expanding my social life more bearable. I hope that the following ideas help you if you have social anxiety to meet new people and possibly make some new friends.

Shortly after I first received my borderline personality disorder (BPD) diagnosis, I described living with BPD as a storm inside of me. However, now that I’m several years into recovery, I’ve realized that not every day feels like a storm. In fact, I think that living with BPD is more like a weekly weather forecast filled with many different kinds of days.

I pride myself on being a glass-half-full kinda gal, but I must admit, I accidentally let a tiny twinge of self-pity brush the edges of my subconscious recently. Jealousy reared its ugly head (just a skosh) on a recent vacation where other families were enjoying the time-honored tradition of visiting the local ice cream parlor together. I recalled my own memories of a favorite vacation ice cream haunt and lamented the fact that my son, Nick, wouldn’t look back fondly at a time spent peppered with chocolate sprinkles and giggles.

For the past year and a half since I started graduate school, I’ve debated disclosing my chronic illnesses to my advisor. When I interviewed, I explained that I’d had a chronic illness in the past (since we discussed my leave of absence from college), but I didn’t say anything about my current conditions. I planned to do it when I started the program, but then I started virtually so I told myself I’d do it when I met him in person. And once we met in person, I wanted to wait until the field season had started because I wanted him to see me as a person before he learned about my illnesses. I realize that this is a major privilege of having my invisible illnesses, that I can choose if/when to discuss them.

I thought I was being quiet as the tears began to fall. It had been six weeks since my lifelong friend of 42 years had passed away after a long, hard ass fight with breast cancer. The room was dark with the exception of the light coming from the video...

So, you have rejection-sensitive dysphoria (RSD) and you decided to work in a high rejection rate job. I’m not judging. In fact, I’m that person with RSD who works in not one, but two to three high rejection rate industries. I’m a writer and performer by trade, meaning I’ve heard no more than I’ve heard my own name. In the beginning, I was a bit naive and thought I’d be an exception to the rule, and then I wasn’t. I was rejected left and right by publications, literary agents, editors, casting directors, casting teams, and people whose names I have never even heard. It’s not because I’m not talented or gifted. I’m incredibly skilled at the things that I do, but in these industries, it’s not about talent. It’s about luck. Sure you have to have the talent to back it, but talent only gets you so far and that’s the hardest thing to accept.

I did it. I let go of my apartment and all the associated bills and secured a digital nomadic lifestyle. I’m currently waiting for a French visa so I can start my travels where Carrie decided to take Big back for good (which I’m still mad about). Until then, I’m at my parents’ or my friends’ homes with my little dog living my best life, or I’m supposed to be.

Structure, routines, and commitment are the three things needed to really excel at having natural hair. Structure, routines, and commitment are, of course, the three things I struggle with due to attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) When I first transitioned into being natural, natural hair and its maintenance was ultimately one of...

Have you ever been to a health provider who just doesn’t seem to “get you?” Me too, and that’s speaking as a cisgender heterosexual white man living with mental illness — my identity is hardly underrepresented in health care. However, for people with diverse identities — such as gender, race, sexual orientation, or even age and religion — it can be important to find representation in health care. For example, Mighty contributor Ameera Ladak wrote in 2020 about how important it is for BIPOC people to feel supported by white therapists. Maya Lorde has similarly written about the difficulty of seeing white therapists who have been privileged in areas she has been oppressed as a queer Black woman.

Grief is a pain that I’ve never fully managed to endure. It weighs me down so much that I avoid it with ever scrap of effort I can manage. Heck, I’m a consummate Marvel fan, never missing a movie or TV show, but I can’t bring myself to see “Thor: Love and Thunder” yet for fear of certain triggers within. (If you know, you know.)

Eating out saved me in eating disorder recovery. Cooking almost ruined it. I know what I sound like – another person who is just trying to find ways to justify spending money that contributes to them being broke instead of being economically wise by cooking in and meal prepping. It’s giving poor little rich girl vibes without a doubt, and I accept that, only I’m not rich, at all. In fact I live paycheck to paycheck due to the rising costs of living in a world that prioritizes old money versus human beings (especially ones from exploited communities) actually being able to, y’know, live. This is my reality as it has been for a while, and even with that I choose to eat out (a lot) versus staying in and cooking.

The first time I checked the box next to “widowed” under the “relationship status” section of a form, I paused, pen tip hovering above the sheet of paper. I was about to check “married” as I usually do, but reality reared its head once again. I thumbed my wedding ring, lost in thought. I continue to wear my wedding ring because taking it off would feel like a betrayal to my husband — a declaration of the end of my marriage. It would mean closing an important chapter in my life to make way for a new chapter — and I’m not ready for that.

To my fellow IBD warriors and chronically ill community:. Hi. It’s me, your loyal member. I apologize that I’ve been a bit absent lately. As I’m learning, birthing a small human via C section takes its toll on your body, including your bowels. It actually takes its toll on all the things physically, mentally, emotionally, and I find myself thrust back into those old thoughts surrounding inflammatory bowel disease anxiety. Is this feeling forever? When will I poop again? Is it supposed to look like that? Is that pain concerning? You understand. It’s that never-ending cycle of internal queries that keep us all up at night. Of course, C-section recovery is completely different from managing a chronic illness like IBD, but the thought process is really similar.

We’ve all been there: “What’s inflammatory bowel disease?”. For those of us who even choose to disclose IBD and say the word “bowel” in mixed company, elaborating on what it actually means can be more than we’re ready to talk about. Simply disclosing our condition was already outside our comfort zone, and it was a huge step! But getting into detail? What’s too much? What’s too little? What’s too gross? What’s too complicated? While we appreciate the genuine curiosity and desire to understand, it’s a lot to thoroughly explain IBD without going overboard on unnecessary (or “embarrassing”) details.

Grief is often associated with a loss of a loved one. Or maybe when you think of grief, the horrible news cycle comes to mind. It’s hard to ignore all the upsetting things happening around our world right now, and much of it does call for a grieving period for many people. After all, the very definition of the word grief is “deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone’s death.” I don’t know about you, but I don’t know a single person that isn’t experiencing some form of sorrow these days.

Being chronically ill is exhausting. Stating the obvious, right? Not only is it a constant weight on the mind, but it’s also – most definitely – a weight on the body. Just when you think you’ve found the perfect combination of coping mechanisms and foods, something goes awry, and your entire system is in flux again. I guess it’s kind of like having a newborn, right? That’s the only thing I can compare it to right now, being a new mom to a 2-month-old. You finally find a groove for the current state of your life, then something changes, and you start all over.