Mental Health Friday #16

Mental Health Friday #16

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Today’s MHF is a continuation of Trae’s journey with Bipolar disorder. Up until now, we’ve seen her deal with her mother passing away, the negative effects of anti-psychotics and her relapse with addiction. We ended last time with Trae getting back her life with her decision to break away from abuse and her then husband.

When I came home from spending the night at my friend’s house the day after I had fought with my then-husband on the phone, it must have been late afternoon, because I sat on the couch and my now ex-husband said I needed my medication. He seemed concerned as though I had been through something although I saw no reason for him to feel that way. It was as though he saw this as solving the problem. He gave me my medication and I took them, not thinking that the dose he was giving me was what was directed on the bottle. One of those medications was Seroquel and he had given me 1200 mg of that along with my other medications. I was only taking 800 a day. My doctor had originally written the prescription out wrong, but I was never to take 1200 mg a day.

I don’t remember much after that. The next day, I woke up and as I sat on the couch trying to focus because I was so groggy, my now ex-husband was pacing back and forth in front of me, screaming obscenities and accusations at me in front of my sons. I could not respond. This was on June 15th of 2012. I don’t remember much of what went on in the house for the next three weeks, possibly due to being overmedicated and the stress level in the house was extremely high.

At some point, I went to my friend who I will call Kay. At the time, she lived in an apartment for sober women. She gave me the number to call and apply for a room of my own in the apartment, which I did. I was accepted, but my room would not be available until July 2nd.

Over the next couple of weeks, I believe my husband continued to give me my medications, but I can not say for sure. If he was, it would explain my foggy memory.

On June 30th 2012, two days before my room would be available, my husband told me he wanted me to leave now. I immediately called my Godmother and went to her house for the night. I spent the next night at another friend’s house and was in my room at the sober women apartment the next day. I did not feel as though I had left a home, I felt free.

It was a very small room, furnished with a bed, a coffee table and a chair. Kay was now my roommate and I confided my feelings about my life to her. She was a good friend.

At this point, I continued to have coffee with John, the man I originally had coffee with on June 13, 2012 and talk to him for hours. He listened without judgment and never offered any opinion on what I told him. He listened, never pushing me in any direction with my thoughts. I told him my entire life story, over and over until I began to hear the words I was saying and realized so much more about the situation I was in. It is true that you never really see how bad things are until you are outside of the situation.

When I moved into my new room at the sober women’s house on July 2, 2012, I was mandated to attend thirty A.A. meetings in thirty days, without exception. It had already begun that people in the program were treating me differently although I did not know why at the time. I felt uncomfortable going to the meetings, in addition to the fact that being forced to go made it difficult with my defiance issues. I have never been in a detox or other facility where I was told what to do. John went to the meetings with me and I now found it very difficult to sit through the hour meeting now that it was mandated as opposed to being my own choice. To be continued


Guest Writer: Trae from (TripleClicka.com). I’m honored to have Trae participate, help spread mental health awareness and blur out stigma by sharing her story, here on Mental Health Friday. She’d be back in two weeks with a continuation.

If you’d love to contribute and share your story on Mental health Friday, I’ld love to have you. You can contact me on My email address is: mykahani@yahoo.com . Image credit: HealthyPlace.com

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At dawn-

At dawn-

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It was all she could-
To wake up at dawn,
Pray to her lord;
Listen to the sound
Of the universe,
Interacting with birds
And their melodic voice.

It was all she could-
With a coffee In hand,
Type a few words;
Gaze at the humans
In a hurry to what?
She wondered…
Their faces,
Filled not with Joy.

It was all she could do-
To wake up at dawn,
Stay strong for a while
Before over taken,
And stressed beyond bounds.
It was all she could do-
To breathe, to truly
Live while she can.

p.s: I know I’ve written about “being all you can” already this week, but for some reason, that’s what is inspiring me lately. Also, I’m on a trip this week, with not so good internet connection so I might not be able to read all your lovely posts. But will try as much 🙂

IMAGE CREDIT: Alriyadh.com

Closure-

Closure-

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Why spend all your time writing? He asked
To create endings, she replied.

He never could understand and she never could explain. And on she wrote, till he tired of asking. How could she explain her search for closure in words. She wrote and created endings- some happy, some sad, some unexpected and some a replica of status quo, all in the hope that someday, the void left by the numerous souls who departed her life without goodbyes would be filled.

She kept on writing, in search of the closures she never had.

image credit: Picslist.com

Flash Fiction: quick to judge

Flash Fiction: quick to judge

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Princess, that’s what they called her. It didn’t take more than a glance to figure out how the name came about. She walked with the elegance of a Victoria fashion model; her snow-white hair accentuated the pale tone of her skin. One could refer to her as delicate.

Dawn on the other hand, was of a caramel brown skin tone in contrast to her sister’s. Her hair was as dark as Princess’s was white. It took a second glance to notice the hazel green eyes hidden underneath long lashes. And more than a few glances to notice Dawn when Princess was in the view- a crime, of which I was guilty.

The fair was over; Princess and Dawn headed for their car when a group of children surrounded them. I was stunned to see both sisters act in the same kindly manner, grinning from cheek to cheek, gently ruffling the kids’ hair. It made me wonder if I was quick to judge. What if Dawn actually enjoyed being in the shadows…


word count: 170. Thank God WordPress decided to bring back word count 😀 . This story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring writers photo prompt challenge. Thank you Sonya for presenting us with this week’s eye-catching picture.

She could barely-

She could barely-

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She didn’t share the words
of her heart,
With the world;
It wasn’t a pretty place to be.
She could barley –
stand
Handle
Breathe
Survive,
With the battle
Going on within her,
How could they?
She lived with the words
In her mind-
Stuck,
An incessant battleground;
But, still,
She could stand,
Even if barley;
She had a pulse,
Even if rapid;
It was all she could bring
That day;
It was enough,
She prayed…

IMAGE CREDIT: weheartit.com

Searching…

Searching…

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She searched for reviews of books to read, the best she got was “satisfying”. She wasn’t one to settle for average, never had been; so she tried the search button yet again.

More books, more search titles and more average satisfying reviews. She wanted a book she could drown her sorrows in. She wanted a book which reflected the strange universe embedded in the depth of her mind. She wanted a book whose words she could breathe.

But above all, she wanted a book she could recall with a smile at the unusual coincidence of distinct similarities with the characters,
         In the end, she decided, maybe I should write one…

IMAGE CREDIT:Merilocal.com

Stigma shame-

Stigma shame-

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How much longer,
Does my heart have to bleed?
How far should my tears fall,
For you to believe?

Should I bottle my teardrops
And save them in jars?
Would it make you believe,
I can’t help that I cry?

Should I cut across my wrist,
Till it bleeds out words;
For you to believe,
Depression is not a choice?

Do you need me to scream,
Till my larynx turns hoarse?
Do you need me to defend,
My mental status?

Should I carve out my diary
Words, etched into stone?
So the whole world can witness
the turmoil- between heart and soul?

Do you think I don’t miss her
The girl I used to be?
Or that some nights I don’t wonder
What on earth led me to this?

You shamed me with your stigma;
You shamed me with your words;
You claim to not- believe in depression,
Well then, I don’t- need your validation.

***Dear You, this poem is dedicated to you. <3***

Mental Health Friday #14

Mental Health Friday #14

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Today’s MHF is a continuation of Trae’s journey with Bipolar disorder. Up until now, we’ve seen her deal with her mother passing away, the negative effects of anti-psychotics and her relapse with addiction. We ended last time with Trae getting back her life, following her entry into an Alcoholics Anonymous group.

I left off in my story at a time when we had just moved into an apartment in a new town. I had started to go to A.A. meetings and met my new sponsor. At the same time, as soon as we moved into that apartment I started to talk to my ex-husband about my leaving. We had gone for coffee every week or so to talk outside of the house and we argued a lot over this. I told him my reasons for leaving many times over and I also told him I didn’t believe things would change. I told him I believed the only reason he was being so nice to me was because he had nothing and no one else at that moment, but as soon as he picked himself up again, which he would, he would forget I existed the way he always did. My ex-husband did put in effort, but as I told him, I did not believe things would really change.

At the same time, I was going to meetings and on commitments with my sponsor. I met the other active members of the group, one of which was John. I did not know him very well, but when he spoke at commitments and meetings, I listened. My respect and admiration for him grew.

During the winter of 2011-2012, I spent my spare time working very intensely on my fourth step. (Step Four, Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.) I do believe what that did for me was far beyond it’s intended purpose of helping me to see what my characters defects are, why I do the things I do and how to change them. It also helped me to see that I was not so bad as I was made out to be. I listed everything I had done wrong to hurt another person in my life and what I saw was that I was not such a bad person, as a matter of fact I was a pretty good person. The fact that I have bi-polar disorder, ADHD and PTSD had nothing to do with what kind of person I was. This of course caused me to look harder at the people that had treated me as though I were some kind of problem. Clearly, I was not their problem. Clearly, I did not deserve to be hurt anymore.

It was in the spring that I did my fifth step, outside on a cool day with my sponsor. (Step Five. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.) We sat together and went over everything. She then brought me to her house and left me to sit alone and do steps Six and Seven. (Step Six, Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.” Step Seven, Humbly asked him to remove our shortcomings.

That day I felt a freedom that I have never known. All of the fears I had fell away. I knew I was ready to begin my life again and I was so happy I went home and told my ex-husband in a card that I was ready to move on. The problem seemed to be that the next morning when I woke up, I realized that yes, I was ready to move on, but not there. Read more

Today was not okay-

Today was not okay-

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Curled up.
Nowhere to run
No one to run to
The silence- haunting
Limbs- trembling
Face, stained
In all the right places.
Today- was not okay.

A while,
A long time it took-
Regained composure
Silence, still haunting
Limbs- exhausted
Face- weary;
Today- was not okay.

Relapsed-
An overdue setback;
Overtaking emotions;
Grim thoughts- engulfing
Alone- vulnerable
The thoughts won that time.

Today,
Was not okay;
Today,
The thoughts- raging;
Today,
She did get through it;
Today,
She knows she can-
Tomorrow will be okay.

IMAGE CREDIT