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I know when I started this blog, it was to replace the blog I could no longer post on. I closed down my first blog because I was sick and tired of my ex telling me how sick I was based on posts written over two years previous. They were good posts, they were awesome posts. The posts were raw and real. They documented the down hill spiral of a mental health crisis in real time. Guess what, I was sick…WAS. I wanted to share the very core of everything that I was feeling if only for one person to feel like they were not alone in this fight against an invisible monster that not only is misunderstood, but often misdiagnosed.

Turns out, replacing a blog is akin to replacing a child…it can’t be done.

My goal is still to dispel the stigma associated with mental health care. The only difference is that I am in a different place in my life and my goals are evolving as I am changing and growing.

I’ve recently (in the last six months or so) made some friends in the armed services. With Boy 2 having an affection for everything military, I am feeding his passion in a healthy way.

I have a new found understanding of those who have served. I have a deep respect for those who returned to the Untied States with their unit…yet never came home…those living with TBI, PTSD and other debilitating disorders and injuries. I have heard stories of men and women who are now addicted to pain medications because of injuries sustained.

I have become internet friends with people who, as a result their job can no longer function in the day to day world of civilian life without medications, psychologists, psychiatrists, occupational therapy, physical therapy…appointments, appointments, meds, appointments…

These people are hailed as heroes, they never asked to be heroes. They never asked for a damn thing. They gave everything they were asked to give, they watched their friends…brothers…give their lives and would gladly have taken their place. They were just doing their job.

We’ve all heard the statistic that the United States has lost more service men and women to suicide than combat…this is unacceptable. The American public should be outraged at this.

I’m not yet sure what I, alone can do…but I’m doing it. I’m screaming at the top of my lungs for people to get their heads out of their collective ass. This shit is real people. There are men and women who served this country who are suffering damnit…if everyday ‘crazy’ people are ashamed to get mental health care, how do you expect a ‘hero’ to feel when he can’t even get out of bed? When he or she is tired of the medication roulette game we all play and just wants to give up?

I am not a certified counselor and I have no idea the horror of war, but I have seen my own share of horrors. I have stood at the cemetery to say goodbye to people who just couldn’t take it one more day…who saw no hope, no healing in sight. All I can do is hold your hand and lend my ear, and my shoulder…it’s all I have. I will share my experience, my hope…together we will find your strength…your hope. 

I’m reaching out…please, take my hand.


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