Out of the Woodwork


The most interesting thing about sharing my blog has been the response. So many people have come to me privately with stories they think I’ll “get” because of what I write here (and I do!) and others have simply come back out of nowhere to offer support and kind words of encouragement. It’s heartening. What I love most is that it’s exactly what I hoped to do. I just wanted to be a part of the larger conversation about mental health so that other people, either affected or just open-minded, would be a part of it as well. Continue reading “Out of the Woodwork”

Strength in Oversharing


I am a master of oversharing. This blog is a testament to that fact. I struggle with finding a balance between the whole truth and appropriate conversation all the time. How much can I share with this person? How soon can I say certain things? What is appropriate at this level of intimacy? Omg, did I really just say that? Crap. Continue reading “Strength in Oversharing”

I wasn’t sure I could

An exercise from my narrative medicine workshop:

“I wasn’t sure I could”

I wasn’t sure I could survive, the pain, the stress, the loneliness.

I wasn’t sure I could recover after my neck broke, my back broke, my spirit broke.

I wasn’t sure I could ever be the same person who I was before.

But then I realized that I wasn’t sure I could be the person who I was before.

Something had changed me, had changed within me, and I was no longer stuck in the dark.

I developed purpose. I created goals. I saw a future.

I wasn’t sure I could get there, but that was OK. I didn’t need to be sure, I just needed to try.

In the trying, I can.  

The hole inside me: Miscarriage and loss Pt. 1

 These are stories of miscarriage. They are visceral and very intense. Please be prepared for graphic language and potentially disturbing imagery.

By Anna H. at Sleepy Dolphin


The first time I figured out I was pregnant was a total surprise. It wasn’t planned, it was just one of those things. I had such bad morning sickness that I could barely go to work. Once we found out, we had a conversation but decided that we both wanted to go forward with the pregnancy. We even told our parents. We had just started living together, but we knew already that this was it. It was about eight weeks in when I went to an ob/gyn appointment and they discovered that the fetus hadn’t grown. My Dr. wasn’t the best at bedside manner, so she basically said, “We’ll see what happens but we’ll probably wait for the uterus to empty itself.” So, I had to go home, devastated, and just wait for the inevitable to happen.

Continue reading “The hole inside me: Miscarriage and loss Pt. 1”

Fever dreams


Borderline Personality Disorder comes with a fun list of potential symptoms. One of which is called dissociation.”According to The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fourth Edition, Text Revision (DSM-IV-TR) ninth criterion for borderline personality disorder is “transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms” (American Psychiatric Association, 2000, p. 654),” Colin Ross in the Journal of Trauma and Dissociation. If you want to read a full Wiki article about it, click here. So what does that all actually mean? Continue reading “Fever dreams”

Shame, shame, shame


Today I am dealing with serious feelings of shame. In my impulsivity, I wrote that one line e-mail to my TA. “OR maybe the class could be more informative and the homework could be more related to the exams. Just a thought.” I got this in response:

“I’m sorry you feel that way. As a TA, I don’t decide what is on the syllabus, homework or on the exam. If you have any questions or concern, feel free to stop by Li’s office hour or Help room on Thursday morning. I’ll be happy to explain things to you regarding questions on the homework or practice exam. I have forwarded your thought to your teacher. In the future, I think It is better that you share your thoughts directly with him instead of through me. Have a good weekend!”

This is the guy who 1) told us a problem on the practice exam was just wrong, when it wasn’t. And 2) has no idea how the professor teaches so when he taught us he taught us completely different methods, confusing us right before an exam. 3) Flat out said, go get extra help. Continue reading “Shame, shame, shame”

Getting sick, you assholes


Part of the problem with coming out of a depression is that I have to go back into the world. There are lots of issues that crop up when this happens, especially since I haven’t been interacting with much of humanity for a while. This is compounded by going to school and being around loads of undergrads all the time. AND it’s the middle of winter. So basically this is the perfect storm and there is no way for me to avoid getting sick. I knew it was going to happen last week when my lecture hall started to fill up with sneezes and coughs, and the girl in front of me spent the entire time blowing her nose and coughing. I was doomed. There was no escape. My immune system is woefully unprepared to fend off incoming viruses because it hasn’t been building up a tolerance.

So here I am, sneezing, tired, with a headache. I knew it. The grand thing about getting sick when you have mental health issues is that, for me at least, it removes a protective layer of sanity. It’s like I become raw, like most people, and my emotions bubble to the surface. I am less mindful, less apt to be able to deal with my feelings in a productive way, and much more likely to give in to negative emotions. The first thing that goes is my willpower. I suddenly don’t want to do anything or see anyone. I just want to curl up in bed and watch nonsense (or TED talks more likely) and snuggle with the dogs. Instead, today I’m required to go to a TWO AND A HALF HOUR session on being smart about sexual safety, because apparently I’m 17 and need to be taught what Columbia thinks are the rules of life. Don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate the initiative that they are taking to educate young people, but for older, wiser students this is not only redundant it’s sort of infantalizing. And now I want to go even less because I don’t feel well. Time to see if I can get out of it.

Case in point, I just sent a snarky e-mail to my math TA because after our exam he sent out an e-mail that said, “Hey, hope you guys did well on the exam…but if you need more help here are all the resources the school has.” I get it. Find extra help, and sometimes that’s really necessary. But I also think that’s kind of a cop out and pretty insulting. As if to say, “Sorry we can’t teach you what we’re trying to teach you, so go have someone else do it or do it yourselves.” Paying what I am for this course, I kind of expect more effort from the teachers themselves. I realize he was attempting to be helpful in his own way, but he doesn’t come to our class, I’ve never seen him before this week, he doesn’t know any of us, he hasn’t watched our professor teach, he gave us conflicting and flat-out incorrect information, and then he has the audacity to say, “Go teach yourself so you can pass this class.” PSSSSSH. So, because I have no filter right now, I sent him back an e-mail that basically said, “Or the class could be more informative and the homework could be more closely related to the exams.” Snarky, maybe. True, definitely. There is so much that could be improved about this class if they only tried, just a little. But this goes to my point about being raw. I had the thought to send that response the other day, I just didn’t. But now, on poor sleep and a bad cold, I just don’t have the filter.

I feel bad about what I say and do when I have no filter, but it doesn’t happen until later. In the moment I give zero fucks. It doesn’t help that I fell asleep before I could take my meds last night so today is going to be weird. Thanks for the cold, you asshole kids.

Submission: Stories of Miscarriage

I must sound like a broken record, but I’m trying to gather as many stories as I can. If you have experienced a miscarriage and would like to share your experience, either anonymously or with your name, please be in touch. You can find me at all the usual social media outlets as well as at ExcessivelyMe25@gmail.com. Thanks all!



I have become Rubenesque. That is to say, I have gained a lot of weight in the last few years. It wasn’t intentional, as it rarely is. It was a side effect of trying a lot of different medications, being inactive, and then being physically unable to be active for a long time. Now, a lot of the meds I’m on have the potential for weight gain and I haven’t been inspired to work out since the summer, kicked in the butt by depression and agoraphobia until recently, so I’m kind of stuck. Changing my diet and exercise regimen will make a difference but there’s the leftover effects of the meds. Brings new meaning to “fat and happy.” Continue reading “Rubenesque”