Marijuana makes me paranoid. Irritable. I can’t leave the house if I am high or I will panic. I used to smoke it mostly at home (there’s delivery service in New York) and occasionally at parties. I did enjoy it for a time, but I have concluded that weed is not compatible with my bipolar brain. In fact, I believe it is one of the worst things I can...
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March 11, 2019
By: Allan G. Cooper
Do you know what it feels like to help NASA calculate the speed of light? Or, maybe you know what it's like to find a formula that makes nuclear fusion possible. How about being the sole person responsible for averting a disaster that would crash the entire internet. Do you know what that's like? I do. Well, I know what it's like to believe I am...
April 27, 2018
By: Christine Marie Frey
One of the most important things to remember in life is that everybody needs help sometimes. When I was first diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I refused any help that came my way. I didn’t want help from my parents, my teachers, or even my friends. I wanted help from a teenager who could understand what I was going through. I needed somebody who...
July 24, 2017
By Mamotladi Ivy Matloga
My name is Ivy Matloga and I am a public servant and an author. My brother lives and copes with a mental illness. I just released a novel, a work of fiction, inspired by my brother’s illness and the observations I have made, as well as opinions formed as I grew up around my brother and fellow villagers who lived with various forms of mental...
May 16, 2017
I have always been open about my mental illness, especially my experiences with psychosis and paranoia. I can't see any reason why not to. It is scary when attacks happen, but I find it somehow alleviating to the soul to share what's going on with me, or tell someone about it, in retrospect. It's amazing on what openness can do to other people —...
April 11, 2017
I woke up in a bed of steel, covered in snow white blankets. Drops of water were running down my face, but i couldn't tell tears from sweat. I rose up and looked around the room trying to get a grip of reality. It was just a dream… a bad dream. A thin little girl, barely one hundred pounds, was on her way up a hill, surrounded by the greenest...
November 14, 2016
If you have experienced psychosis, you know that it’s a very hard thing to explain to someone who has never experienced it before. When you are in a state of psychosis, it’s extremely hard to be able to tell yourself what is happening to you, and it can be even more difficult to know what to do when in that situation. Here are three things that...
October 10, 2016
Why don’t we talk more about psychosis from bipolar disorder? I am an avid reader. I read a ton of articles and blogs written by bipolar mental health advocates. What I’ve recently realized is that there is a lot written about mania and depression, but not much shared about psychosis. If there is stigma about the ups and downs of bipolar...
June 30, 2016
I hate coincidences. Ever since I’ve recovered from my bipolar psychosis, I’ve had to be wary of coincidences. Psychosis is a very difficult thing to deal with and understand. I’m going to attempt to delve into this very taboo subject because I want people to know what it is like to live with psychosis. I also want to dispel the myth that once...
June 8, 2016
No one ever sat me down and told me I had bipolar disorder. I can only imagine that some people indeed have this sort of experience. A person might see a clinician, tell them what’s wrong, answer some questions, and maybe fill out a test before learning they have a mental illness, but that just wasn’t how it happened for me. I went psychotic...
June 8, 2016
This was written during a manic episode when the author was experiencing psychosis and was hospitalized. It contains adult language which may be triggering to some readers. I awaken. I hear hospital noises. I feel aloof but in control. Why am I here? What is my purpose in this place? Suddenly it looks so familiar. I am in a Florida hospital;...
May 26, 2016
“LET ME OUT OF HERE!” I screamed at the top of my voice, hammering on the nurse’s station door. I was yelling so loud my lungs and chest hurt, my throat was raw and it felt like the veins in my neck would burst. The day’s events that had seemed trivial were no longer a joke and I was angry. That afternoon I had been admitted onto a psychiatric...