Have you ever felt something and tried to put it into words, but failed? Like something good. Something right. Something.... more. Yet, the words aren't there. You physically cannot describe what it is you're feeling, but oh you're feeling it.
I'm there.
They're stuck in my throat, these words. They've dug their claws into my skin and refuse to budge. No amount of coaxing or pleading is going to get them to move. But, if you asked. If I had to try.
I would say
I feel like the sound espresso makes when you pour it over raw sugar.
I feel like the way the word lionhearted rolls off the tongue.
I feel like the warmth of a blanket that your cat has been sleeping on.
I feel like the polite, yet genuine, smile between two strangers crossing paths.
I feel like the one song you listen to when you can't think of anything else to play.
I feel like the smell of gingersnaps during the holidays.
I feel like the hug you share with a close friend you haven't seen in a long time.
I feel like the deep breath you take when you've just had a good cry.
I feel like the yellow crayon clutched in the hand of a child coloring the sun.
I feel like the whispering of pages ruffled by the wind.
I feel.
I feel.
I feel.
I can't tell you how I feel, not truly, but oh goodness do I feel it. Maybe you feel it sometimes, too.
Until next time.
Make good choices.
Tuesday, September 19, 2017
Thursday, August 24, 2017
Long Time No See.
You know what's the worst part of depression? Not realizing you're depressed.
A few weeks ago, I had this intense and long manic episode. I ate only cheesepuffs for 4 days straight. I strutted around in heels and pajamas. I maxed out a few credit cards. I giggled and danced and felt way too excited and alive. I also got extremely, irrationally angry. Like punch the mirror out angry over a zit. Over the next door neighbor's dog barking. Over dishes that I had procrastinated doing. But my fantastic medication helps to level it out. Without my medicine, it would have been worse. But my medicine is a type of upper, since I'm normally down. It makes manic stages a little more intense, yet still manageable.
But coming down can sometimes take a nosedive. It wasn't until today that I realized I had a depressive episode after my manic episode. I came down from my high and felt calm. Everything was okay. Everything was too okay. It was fine for me to leave bags of trash inside. It was fine for me to cry for no reason. It was fine for me to skip meals. It was fine for me to spend any time not at work in my bed.
It's not fine, though. I didn't recognize the symptoms until it was over. Do you know how frustrating that is? My therapist says to keep a journal of my moods and to see the patterns. To understand my mood shifts. I'm sure it would help if I did it more. To see the symptoms playing out and knowing I'm going through a depressive state. It seems like I'm so used to being down that I'm not sure what's it like to be normal. Depressed is my normal.
But it's not. Depression is not my normal and I won't let it be.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, sometimes people with mental illnesses don't realize themselves when they're having a spell, let alone know how to convey our struggles to someone else. Sometimes it's not an intense episode. Sometimes is just a feeling for a few days. So before you tell someone they seem "normal" when they try to tell you they think they're having an episode, or that they don't seem "depressed enough," try again. Just listen and support. Ask if you can do anything for them. Be there. Offer to clean their house (thanks Daisy). Be a friend.
Until next time.
Make good choices.
A few weeks ago, I had this intense and long manic episode. I ate only cheesepuffs for 4 days straight. I strutted around in heels and pajamas. I maxed out a few credit cards. I giggled and danced and felt way too excited and alive. I also got extremely, irrationally angry. Like punch the mirror out angry over a zit. Over the next door neighbor's dog barking. Over dishes that I had procrastinated doing. But my fantastic medication helps to level it out. Without my medicine, it would have been worse. But my medicine is a type of upper, since I'm normally down. It makes manic stages a little more intense, yet still manageable.
But coming down can sometimes take a nosedive. It wasn't until today that I realized I had a depressive episode after my manic episode. I came down from my high and felt calm. Everything was okay. Everything was too okay. It was fine for me to leave bags of trash inside. It was fine for me to cry for no reason. It was fine for me to skip meals. It was fine for me to spend any time not at work in my bed.
It's not fine, though. I didn't recognize the symptoms until it was over. Do you know how frustrating that is? My therapist says to keep a journal of my moods and to see the patterns. To understand my mood shifts. I'm sure it would help if I did it more. To see the symptoms playing out and knowing I'm going through a depressive state. It seems like I'm so used to being down that I'm not sure what's it like to be normal. Depressed is my normal.
But it's not. Depression is not my normal and I won't let it be.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, sometimes people with mental illnesses don't realize themselves when they're having a spell, let alone know how to convey our struggles to someone else. Sometimes it's not an intense episode. Sometimes is just a feeling for a few days. So before you tell someone they seem "normal" when they try to tell you they think they're having an episode, or that they don't seem "depressed enough," try again. Just listen and support. Ask if you can do anything for them. Be there. Offer to clean their house (thanks Daisy). Be a friend.
Until next time.
Make good choices.
Tuesday, July 4, 2017
Confessions Of A 21 Year Old Dreamer
Confession time.
I, Katie Vollenweider, am an optimist.
There I said it. Ugh. I am such an optimist. I see the good in everyone, I think there's always a silver lining, and I believe in second chances.
Fun fact: I am in love with people.
Like all people. Most of the time. If I have a conversation with you, an actual conversation and not a small exchange of pleasantries, I will probably fall in love with you. Not like "I want to marry you" but more like "You are such an amazing human being and you deserve every good thing in the world and I am so lucky to know you".
Which is probably why I try to pretend otherwise. Sometimes, when you are surrounded by realists and pessimists, an optimist doesn't shine as brightly. It's hard when you want to sing songs and greet the birds 24/7 and everyone else wants to watch it rain.
With saying that, my new goal is to embrace my positivity and shine. I'm going to be so annoying, but who cares? Enjoy life, find that one good thing, and come tell me about it. We'll both enjoy it!
Until next time. Make good choices.
People Let Me Tell Ya Bout My Best Friend
Wow oh wow is this going to be the weirdest post. I decided to write a creepy "I'm so in best friend love with you" post to my #1 pal, Smenerdy.
I'm purposely not publishing this to social media, but choosing to let you all find it as you will. Including her. Oh well.
To make this a little bit simpler, we'll just make a list of all of the things I enjoy about her.
1. Homegirl's got moves! She's like this weird twist of elegant swan and hip-hop dancer. She can dance to any song and will dance anywhere. 1 minute dance parties are all the rage with us.
2. She will make fun of anything. Nothing is sacred. New crush? There's a joke. Crippling depression? Another joke. It sounds like she's cruel, but actually it makes me feel better knowing that it isn't the actual end of the world to eat 24 biscuits and half a chocolate cake.
3. She knows how to stand up for herself. Let a person come up to her and tell her what she should or should not be doing. They're gonna learn. She's always one to put her foot down whenever she has had enough and she knows when to speak her mind.
4. Encouragement is her middle name! Ok it's actually Jean, but whatever. Whenever I have a bad day, which is like every other day, I get a "you are a sun goddess who deserves all the good things" text and she genuinely means it. How she puts up with me, I'll never know.
5. She's a looker. For real. You all should have best friend envy, because girl's got beauty and brains. Not that it's important, but it's true.
6. She's up for any and all adventures. Spur of the moment trip to Columbus? Sure. Six Flags? Heck yeah! Come over and watch The Office? All day every day.
7. She's starting a new chapter in her life and she's taking it like a champ. New house, new job, new school, but same Kennedy. You're going to do great things, pal, and I can't wait to see it happen!
Until next time. Make good choices.
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
Katie: An Autobiography
I fell in love with Jesus on an October night in 2015. I remember waking up suddenly with an unexplainable sense of urgency, hurling myself out of bed because I needed to do something, anything, to stop it. I sat on the floor for a few moments, utterly convinced I was having the biggest panic attack of my life. When I couldn't seem to calm down, I did what any teenaged girl in hysterics would do - I went to my mom. She woke up, startled, and upon seeing my crying face, she began questioning me.
"What's wrong? What happened? Was it a bad dream?"
All I could reply with was no; I couldn't put into words what was happening.
"Have you prayed about it?"
"No. I haven't." I replied through tears.
"Try."
So, as any teenaged girl does, I listened to my mom and I started to pray. And the more I reached out to God, the calmer I became. My urgency and panic turned to peace and this almost overwhelming sense of love. I love my God and the more I thought about my Jesus dying on the cross for my sins, the more I loved Him. It hit me that I was in love with Jesus. I had never felt that way before. Sure, I knew He was God and He loved me, and I was pretty sure I loved Him, but I had never had such a strong realization. Before that night, I hadn't cared.
You see, I have known about Jesus for a long time. My family jokes that my brother and I were born on the steps of our home church - the one my grandfather and uncle both retired from as pastors. I attended every Sunday School class, vacation Bible school, revival, church picnic, youth service, and church work day since I was in diapers. It was nice to have that community as I grew, and the older I got the more involved I became.
At 11, I was saved during a church trip. I kind of expected a dramatic change, but as I look back, I realize my relationship with Christ at that time was shallow. I didn't try to get to know God further. Even as I got older and more involved in church, I didn't try to deepen that relationship.
By 15, I was directing church Christmas programs and filling in for absent Sunday School teachers. By 16, I was on the church board, representing the youth group, and voting on important decisions in the church. By 17, I was bringing the occasional morning message and singing with the praise team. It was fun, but I wasn't getting or giving anything in my relationship with Jesus. Then came college.
I am a small-town girl. I had a graduating class of just over 100 and I had the same 4 friends since first grade. In my mind, I needed change from the home I knew for 17 years. So, when a friend mentioned going to college two hours away in Birmingham, Alabama, I was all in. My usually extremely supportive parents weren't completely sure about my decision, but I persisted and off I went.
My first year went well enough - I joined a sorority, an honors college, and a couple more organizations that, honestly, I had no business being in. Towards the end of freshman year, I started to lose myself. I was avoiding friends, skipping classes and meals, not even bothering with church. A friend found me in my dorm closet with a half-eaten chocolate cake and promptly made me an appointment with the local clinic. That's where I first heard: "You have depression." I laughed it off, wrote it off, and forgot all about it. I blamed the college for my bad feelings, so I came back home.
When I returned home, I also returned to church. It was difficult coming back after such a long time away, but eventually I fell back into the routine. I began leading the youth group and I became a member of the church board again. My home life was another routine I fell into. My father travels for his job and can only come home on weekends and my only brother lives on his own, so for most days it was only my mom and myself at home.
Did I mention my mom was a rockstar? She let me mope around for a bit and slowly pulled me back from the lonely world I had put myself in, but even rockstars have their limits. Soon she was pushing me to go back to school. The only problem was, I didn't want to go. Or, more accurately, I was afraid to go. Then came that faithful day in October that changed my life. I began to earnestly seek God, I was open and honest with Him, and I started to keep a journal where I wrote my most intimate prayers to my "Yahweh".
The next summer, I decided to go back to college, but instead of two hours away, I chose a college much closer in Opelika with family living minutes away in Auburn. I chose a new major: History Education, because I wanted and still want to teach high school students and make an impact in their lives. I also felt (and feel) led to teach youth in church, whether as a Sunday School teacher or even a youth pastor. I'm not sure, but God is slowly revealing.
As I moved to Auburn, and began working at a large bookstore, I found myself slowly getting bogged down. When the semester started in August, I was nervous. It had been years since my last class. How would I do? Could I handle it? I did well until that October. I began to lose myself again. I woke up feeling down and rejected and less than. During one bad episode, I stopped doing, well, everything. I wasn't leaving the house or eating or bathing. I went to the doctor and, to my surprise, was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I dropped my classes, started taking medicine, and prayed. Why did my Yahweh allow me to have this? What do I do? Am I broken?
I got better, but I wasn't living. I was constantly overwhelmed. Come March, I had a mental breakdown so intense I had to be committed to a mental hospital for a few days. I was filled with doubt and self-depreciation. Thoughts like "God could never love me" came and went frequently. Luckily, before I could get too far down that path, God sent me friends and family that spoke truth straight to my heart. "God loves you, Katie. He has such a wonderful plan for you. He will never leave you. You are stronger than this." So I took action.
I went to therapy. I did research. I changed my lifestyle. Most importantly, I listened to God. I listened to all of the good things He said to me, all of the love and guidance He showed me daily. He filled my heart with a passion for kids who have problems like I do, so I can show them they are not alone. A chemical imbalance does not define who you are.
God has given me this testimony to share with others and I've already begun using it to relate to those with similar stories. It's amazing to know God is using what were my darkest days to change lives. I know He's not finished with me and I am eager to see what new adventures He has in store. My relationship with my Yahweh is not perfect, but it gets better everyday and I know He will be with me through it all.
So. How was it? Did you like it? Yeah?
You just read my autobiography!
Here's the thing. The reason behind this blog post. I am applying for an internship with the Daraja Children's Choir of Africa.
The Daraja Children's Choir of Africa is a group made of youth from Kenya and Uganda sponsored by 410 Bridge, a non-profit organization. These kids come from Africa and bring worship to America in churches, schools, and events.
To quote their website, www.darajachoir.org, "Sharing gifts of joy and freedom through a worshipful lifestyle of dance, song, and personal stories, the global Church is encouraged to go and serve others with their God-given gifts."
As an intern, I would be going to Africa to pick up the kids and then coming back to America to go on tour. Fun fact: this is something I've always wanted to do.
When I graduated high school, a dear family member gave me a "fill it out yourself " book about where I would be in the next 10 years. Most of what I said was out of reach, like graduate college without debt and be married by 22 (come on, 17 year old Katie), but on the "5 Years From Now" page it says "Tour with Daraja".
This had always been a dream of mine, but I never believed I would have the opportunity to do so. It was more of the "If I could do anything..." type of dream. But here we are. Four years after graduation and I am applying!
I have no idea if I will be accepted, but I do know God has put it in me to make the first step. I have thought about it before, but this time I feel God behind it. Which is nerve wracking and exciting all at the same time.
My application is due August 1st and I would hear back from 410 Bridge soon after, so keep this process in your prayers. Do a little research on Daraja. Follow them on Facebook and see their precious faces singing their love of God. I'll keep you all posted on whatever the outcome may be!
Love to you all.
Until next time. Make good choices.
"What's wrong? What happened? Was it a bad dream?"
All I could reply with was no; I couldn't put into words what was happening.
"Have you prayed about it?"
"No. I haven't." I replied through tears.
"Try."
So, as any teenaged girl does, I listened to my mom and I started to pray. And the more I reached out to God, the calmer I became. My urgency and panic turned to peace and this almost overwhelming sense of love. I love my God and the more I thought about my Jesus dying on the cross for my sins, the more I loved Him. It hit me that I was in love with Jesus. I had never felt that way before. Sure, I knew He was God and He loved me, and I was pretty sure I loved Him, but I had never had such a strong realization. Before that night, I hadn't cared.
You see, I have known about Jesus for a long time. My family jokes that my brother and I were born on the steps of our home church - the one my grandfather and uncle both retired from as pastors. I attended every Sunday School class, vacation Bible school, revival, church picnic, youth service, and church work day since I was in diapers. It was nice to have that community as I grew, and the older I got the more involved I became.
At 11, I was saved during a church trip. I kind of expected a dramatic change, but as I look back, I realize my relationship with Christ at that time was shallow. I didn't try to get to know God further. Even as I got older and more involved in church, I didn't try to deepen that relationship.
By 15, I was directing church Christmas programs and filling in for absent Sunday School teachers. By 16, I was on the church board, representing the youth group, and voting on important decisions in the church. By 17, I was bringing the occasional morning message and singing with the praise team. It was fun, but I wasn't getting or giving anything in my relationship with Jesus. Then came college.
I am a small-town girl. I had a graduating class of just over 100 and I had the same 4 friends since first grade. In my mind, I needed change from the home I knew for 17 years. So, when a friend mentioned going to college two hours away in Birmingham, Alabama, I was all in. My usually extremely supportive parents weren't completely sure about my decision, but I persisted and off I went.
My first year went well enough - I joined a sorority, an honors college, and a couple more organizations that, honestly, I had no business being in. Towards the end of freshman year, I started to lose myself. I was avoiding friends, skipping classes and meals, not even bothering with church. A friend found me in my dorm closet with a half-eaten chocolate cake and promptly made me an appointment with the local clinic. That's where I first heard: "You have depression." I laughed it off, wrote it off, and forgot all about it. I blamed the college for my bad feelings, so I came back home.
When I returned home, I also returned to church. It was difficult coming back after such a long time away, but eventually I fell back into the routine. I began leading the youth group and I became a member of the church board again. My home life was another routine I fell into. My father travels for his job and can only come home on weekends and my only brother lives on his own, so for most days it was only my mom and myself at home.
Did I mention my mom was a rockstar? She let me mope around for a bit and slowly pulled me back from the lonely world I had put myself in, but even rockstars have their limits. Soon she was pushing me to go back to school. The only problem was, I didn't want to go. Or, more accurately, I was afraid to go. Then came that faithful day in October that changed my life. I began to earnestly seek God, I was open and honest with Him, and I started to keep a journal where I wrote my most intimate prayers to my "Yahweh".
The next summer, I decided to go back to college, but instead of two hours away, I chose a college much closer in Opelika with family living minutes away in Auburn. I chose a new major: History Education, because I wanted and still want to teach high school students and make an impact in their lives. I also felt (and feel) led to teach youth in church, whether as a Sunday School teacher or even a youth pastor. I'm not sure, but God is slowly revealing.
As I moved to Auburn, and began working at a large bookstore, I found myself slowly getting bogged down. When the semester started in August, I was nervous. It had been years since my last class. How would I do? Could I handle it? I did well until that October. I began to lose myself again. I woke up feeling down and rejected and less than. During one bad episode, I stopped doing, well, everything. I wasn't leaving the house or eating or bathing. I went to the doctor and, to my surprise, was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I dropped my classes, started taking medicine, and prayed. Why did my Yahweh allow me to have this? What do I do? Am I broken?
I got better, but I wasn't living. I was constantly overwhelmed. Come March, I had a mental breakdown so intense I had to be committed to a mental hospital for a few days. I was filled with doubt and self-depreciation. Thoughts like "God could never love me" came and went frequently. Luckily, before I could get too far down that path, God sent me friends and family that spoke truth straight to my heart. "God loves you, Katie. He has such a wonderful plan for you. He will never leave you. You are stronger than this." So I took action.
I went to therapy. I did research. I changed my lifestyle. Most importantly, I listened to God. I listened to all of the good things He said to me, all of the love and guidance He showed me daily. He filled my heart with a passion for kids who have problems like I do, so I can show them they are not alone. A chemical imbalance does not define who you are.
God has given me this testimony to share with others and I've already begun using it to relate to those with similar stories. It's amazing to know God is using what were my darkest days to change lives. I know He's not finished with me and I am eager to see what new adventures He has in store. My relationship with my Yahweh is not perfect, but it gets better everyday and I know He will be with me through it all.
So. How was it? Did you like it? Yeah?
You just read my autobiography!
Here's the thing. The reason behind this blog post. I am applying for an internship with the Daraja Children's Choir of Africa.
The Daraja Children's Choir of Africa is a group made of youth from Kenya and Uganda sponsored by 410 Bridge, a non-profit organization. These kids come from Africa and bring worship to America in churches, schools, and events.
To quote their website, www.darajachoir.org, "Sharing gifts of joy and freedom through a worshipful lifestyle of dance, song, and personal stories, the global Church is encouraged to go and serve others with their God-given gifts."
As an intern, I would be going to Africa to pick up the kids and then coming back to America to go on tour. Fun fact: this is something I've always wanted to do.
When I graduated high school, a dear family member gave me a "fill it out yourself " book about where I would be in the next 10 years. Most of what I said was out of reach, like graduate college without debt and be married by 22 (come on, 17 year old Katie), but on the "5 Years From Now" page it says "Tour with Daraja".
This had always been a dream of mine, but I never believed I would have the opportunity to do so. It was more of the "If I could do anything..." type of dream. But here we are. Four years after graduation and I am applying!
I have no idea if I will be accepted, but I do know God has put it in me to make the first step. I have thought about it before, but this time I feel God behind it. Which is nerve wracking and exciting all at the same time.
My application is due August 1st and I would hear back from 410 Bridge soon after, so keep this process in your prayers. Do a little research on Daraja. Follow them on Facebook and see their precious faces singing their love of God. I'll keep you all posted on whatever the outcome may be!
Love to you all.
Until next time. Make good choices.
Sunday, June 4, 2017
Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Captain America
Alright, if you know me, you know of my unrelenting affection for Captain America, but it's time to set the record straight. I don't actually love Captain America *cue the gasps and dropped drinking glasses*
I know, I know. Everyone thinks I'm some boy crazy Stacy over a fictional, yet adorable, man who punched Hitler in the face. I'm sorry to disappoint you all, but here's the real reason behind this facade.
The year 2013. I had recently graduated from high school and as any fresh faced grad is, I was beyond excited for "adult life." Boy, if I could go back and shake some sense into my 17 year old self, I would, but alas, she continued to think life would only be better in college.
Well, I college-d for a year, dated a guy or two, came back home for the summer to: "How's college treating you? Bringing home any cute boys? You know so-and-so is getting married!" Oh yay. This.
It didn't help that I had the HUGEST crush on a guy I barely knew and had hardly anything in common with, so when people would ask if I had anyone special in my life or if I had my eye set on anyone (how weird is that? like I'm a huntress set on my prey and prepared to bring it back to the village) I would laugh and say "Oh, no one for me but Captain America!" And we would all laugh and I'd be off the hook! It worked!
Now, it wasn't completely fake, I do admire Chris Evans immensely. I had seen the movie Snowpiercer and he was fantastic (10/10 would recommend). So I was a fan of his, and so I liked Captain America. Slowly, it became less of a joke and I brainwashed myself into this obsession with Captain America. People would buy me Captain America paraphernalia and I loved it! What am I kidding, I still do!
But the point being, it became something almost unmanageable. People began saying things like "When you marry Captain America..." like it would happen. Which wouldn't be half bad... But more realistically, yeah, not gonna happen. Unless Chris Evans is actually looking for a wife and then in that case, I am 100% down.
So in conclusion, I'm not saying I don't love C.A., because I do. He will always have a special place in my heart, but we all have to remember I am joking about him being my husband. I'm not crazy. At least not in that way.
Also remember that Steve Rogers put down the shield and is no longer Captain America, so maybe that's why I don't love Captain America. Maybe I just love Steve Rogers.
The world may never know. Until next time.
Make good choices.
I know, I know. Everyone thinks I'm some boy crazy Stacy over a fictional, yet adorable, man who punched Hitler in the face. I'm sorry to disappoint you all, but here's the real reason behind this facade.
The year 2013. I had recently graduated from high school and as any fresh faced grad is, I was beyond excited for "adult life." Boy, if I could go back and shake some sense into my 17 year old self, I would, but alas, she continued to think life would only be better in college.
Well, I college-d for a year, dated a guy or two, came back home for the summer to: "How's college treating you? Bringing home any cute boys? You know so-and-so is getting married!" Oh yay. This.
It didn't help that I had the HUGEST crush on a guy I barely knew and had hardly anything in common with, so when people would ask if I had anyone special in my life or if I had my eye set on anyone (how weird is that? like I'm a huntress set on my prey and prepared to bring it back to the village) I would laugh and say "Oh, no one for me but Captain America!" And we would all laugh and I'd be off the hook! It worked!
Now, it wasn't completely fake, I do admire Chris Evans immensely. I had seen the movie Snowpiercer and he was fantastic (10/10 would recommend). So I was a fan of his, and so I liked Captain America. Slowly, it became less of a joke and I brainwashed myself into this obsession with Captain America. People would buy me Captain America paraphernalia and I loved it! What am I kidding, I still do!
But the point being, it became something almost unmanageable. People began saying things like "When you marry Captain America..." like it would happen. Which wouldn't be half bad... But more realistically, yeah, not gonna happen. Unless Chris Evans is actually looking for a wife and then in that case, I am 100% down.
So in conclusion, I'm not saying I don't love C.A., because I do. He will always have a special place in my heart, but we all have to remember I am joking about him being my husband. I'm not crazy. At least not in that way.
Also remember that Steve Rogers put down the shield and is no longer Captain America, so maybe that's why I don't love Captain America. Maybe I just love Steve Rogers.
The world may never know. Until next time.
Make good choices.
Sunday, May 28, 2017
What To Expect When You're You
Let's begin with a hypothetical situation: your friend (or family member or co-worker or random stranger on the street) returns from an extended period of sabbatical taken for personal mental health reasons. You, naturally, are curious about the reason for the departure and decide to approach said friend, or family member, or what have you. After telling said person how glad you are to have them back, you say:
A. I heard you had depression. I've been sad like that before, but I never thought to get tested. Instead I just exercise. Have you tried exercising?
B. My ex-boyfriend's step-mother's sister had bipolar disorder and snapped and robbed a store and then shot her husband. Did you snap? Is that why you were sent away?
C. I'm really interested in stories like this. Like how people can actually think life is so bad that there's no reason to live. It's fascinating. Tell me what happened, start to finish.
D. So, I did research on your little problem and I really think if you stay positive and pray, then God will take this worry away from you. If you don't have enough faith, you'll stay this way. It's all in your head, you know.
E. Hey, I'm here if you ever want to talk about it.
Alright! If you answered ANYTHING but E, you failed. Miserably.
As someone with a mental disorder, I've heard variations of all of the above. It's not fun, to say the least. It's like people don't realize the hot mess you are after facing your proverbial giants.
There are hundreds of wrong things to say to someone when their mental state has been jeopardized, but alas!
There are hundreds of right things to say to someone with mental health issues as well.
Well, for me, personally, there is. Here's just a few.
1. I know you don't want to be around many people right now, but could I make you some tacos and we can have a movie night? I own all of the Captain America movies.
2. Do you want to go outside and scream until you're hoarse? Release some of that pent up aggression?
3. How is your therapy going? Anything I can help with?
4. Do you want to take a nap while I do a load of laundry?
5. Do you want to go lay in a field and stare at the stars?
6. Call me whenever you need to talk. I want to know when you feel that way.
7. I will always always ALWAYS be there for you. No matter what.
8. No, you are not crazy.
9. Want to go to the dog park?
10. Do you want to go for a drive?
11. You are not a burden.
12. You are so loved.
13. I'll be here with you through it all.
14. I'm thinking about grabbing dinner, want to join me?
15. Hey, I saw this funny story and it made me think of you!
It's not a lot. It's not life changing. It's simple and easy and not prying or condemning.
Most of the time, I say no. I don't want social interaction. I don't feel comfortable sharing my thoughts or feelings. But don't stop asking. Don't stop talking. Don't stop.
I, and others like me, need people who are constantly in our corner. We need to know that we are not alone, even when we push others away.
Be steady and patient. Be an unwavering support system. Be prepared for anything. Always keep chocolate on hand. Be there.
Until next time.
Make good choices.
A. I heard you had depression. I've been sad like that before, but I never thought to get tested. Instead I just exercise. Have you tried exercising?
B. My ex-boyfriend's step-mother's sister had bipolar disorder and snapped and robbed a store and then shot her husband. Did you snap? Is that why you were sent away?
C. I'm really interested in stories like this. Like how people can actually think life is so bad that there's no reason to live. It's fascinating. Tell me what happened, start to finish.
D. So, I did research on your little problem and I really think if you stay positive and pray, then God will take this worry away from you. If you don't have enough faith, you'll stay this way. It's all in your head, you know.
E. Hey, I'm here if you ever want to talk about it.
Alright! If you answered ANYTHING but E, you failed. Miserably.
As someone with a mental disorder, I've heard variations of all of the above. It's not fun, to say the least. It's like people don't realize the hot mess you are after facing your proverbial giants.
There are hundreds of wrong things to say to someone when their mental state has been jeopardized, but alas!
There are hundreds of right things to say to someone with mental health issues as well.
Well, for me, personally, there is. Here's just a few.
1. I know you don't want to be around many people right now, but could I make you some tacos and we can have a movie night? I own all of the Captain America movies.
2. Do you want to go outside and scream until you're hoarse? Release some of that pent up aggression?
3. How is your therapy going? Anything I can help with?
4. Do you want to take a nap while I do a load of laundry?
5. Do you want to go lay in a field and stare at the stars?
6. Call me whenever you need to talk. I want to know when you feel that way.
7. I will always always ALWAYS be there for you. No matter what.
8. No, you are not crazy.
9. Want to go to the dog park?
10. Do you want to go for a drive?
11. You are not a burden.
12. You are so loved.
13. I'll be here with you through it all.
14. I'm thinking about grabbing dinner, want to join me?
15. Hey, I saw this funny story and it made me think of you!
It's not a lot. It's not life changing. It's simple and easy and not prying or condemning.
Most of the time, I say no. I don't want social interaction. I don't feel comfortable sharing my thoughts or feelings. But don't stop asking. Don't stop talking. Don't stop.
I, and others like me, need people who are constantly in our corner. We need to know that we are not alone, even when we push others away.
Be steady and patient. Be an unwavering support system. Be prepared for anything. Always keep chocolate on hand. Be there.
Until next time.
Make good choices.
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