World Suicide Prevention Day 2016

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Trigger Warning:  As indicated by the title, this post discusses suicide.  Not graphically, and not in detail, but if you find the topic triggering you may choose not to read this post.

 

Suicide (and suicide prevention) is not something I choose lightly to think about, or even write about. It is “My Scary Place”. But I’m going here because this is

Too important not to write about.

 

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Don’t mind me if I do

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After a very emotional week, I am happy to report that today (last night, really) was the first nightmare-free night in what felt like the first time in forever.

I feel like breaking up in song like Anna of Arendelle.

I woke up and it was so weird that at first I couldn’t identify the feeling. It wasn’t until I got off the bed shortly after waking up when it hit me.

My life as a Russian Roulette

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When you have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, life is one hell of a ride.

But that doesn’t say much, does it, now? There’s hell of a ride and then there’s hell of a ride. The one I’m talking about is the kind that feels like a Russian Roulette. By which I mean

There Are Worse Things

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It’s one of those things on which, probably, each of us has a different viewpoint.    What’s the worst thing someone could do to me?  And then, is it really the ‘worst‘?  Or is something else ‘worse‘?

I’ve been thinking, trying to find myself some closure from something that happened in my past.  The closure hadn’t come naturally and I’ve realised that perhaps it was because of this.  I was hung up by what the ‘worst thing‘ was.

Without wanting to trigger anyone into places they don’t want to go, let me just say that in general we, as a society, have ideas about what is the ‘worst’ harm that could happen to a person.  I want to suggest that we don’t always get that right.

Hide and Seek

This feels a little like my first day of school when I was five, which I loved.  I was so happy to finally be with the bigger kids.  I had wanted to start school a year before, when my brother started, but of course I wasn’t allowed.  But finally I got there.

This is of course, my first post for Canvas, and that is equally exciting.  I’m not 100 per cent sure quite what to expect but I know some of the ‘kids’, and am very happy to be here.  This has been something I have wanted to do for a while, but the time wasn’t quite right.  Now it is, and so I’m here.

I do something a little different from most bloggers.  I use my own name.

Where in the world am I?

Good heavens, it seems like forever since I’ve posted on Canvas.  I feel an explanation is due.

If the truth be known, I am totally consumed by writing (FINALLY) my memoir.  I have a lot to write about.  I have not had a “regular” life.  No, really, I haven’t.

Those of you who have been following my personal blog (shameless plug #1:) http://www.bipolarforlife.me will have been getting a fairly significant preview of coming, uh, attractions.

I Am Not OK, But That Is OK

I’ve been wondering recently (as always) why I am the way I am.

I’ve been trying to come up with an explanation.

It feels like I can’t help these ways.  I think the way I think because of all that I am, and all that has happened.  I feel like I use it as an excuse, but am I allowed to feel that way?