My recovery wasn’t all of one piece, cut from whole cloth. It happened in moments of sorrow and joy, turmoil and ease. In my 20s, I had a rocky time. I was displaced, working in business. It took a decade—from 1987 to 1997—to reclaim my true self and find my life’s purpose.
Along the way, my mother was my biggest ally. She saw me at my worst, and loved and accepted me anyway. It is because of her that I am alive today.
When I was a kid, she didn’t understand my need...
The National Alliance on Mental Illness peer support model suggests that the experience of mental illness is traumatic in and of itself,... Read more »
Someone I consult with about my horoscope repeats the expression, "You've ‘collected the evidence.'" It's her way of saying that the... Read more »
Music has always been a passion second only to writing for me. As a kid growing up in the 1970s, I listened to the AM radio, and later on,... Read more »
Ashley speaks out because of her faith. Rebecca wants to be a positive voice in the community. Joshua feels privileged to serve. All... Read more »
Two of the original Top 50 themes searched on at HealthCentral's schizophrenia community site were the questions posed as to whether stigma... Read more »
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