It’s been a little over 365 days since I first published those words. Since I decided to make my private life an open book. To start a blog with a story about wanting to commit suicide for the umpteenth time. You know, really bland stuff. Super low key.
Welcome to the freak show, everybody.
The minute I chose to share my ugly little secret of being one of the wackadoodle folk with the world, was the day I became the victor. The boss. I finally had control. And suddenly, all those words were just that; Words. Tiny. Little. Invisible. Weak words.
Instead I’ve become a wrecking ball in the fight against the stigma towards mental illness. I’ve had my meds changed twice this year and even my diagnosis altered. I still struggle daily, but for the first time in my life, I am ahead of this disease ...