Author Archives: NightWriter

Think Happy Thoughts

One of the most frustrating comments I hear from well-meaning people is that, in order to combat depression, all I need to do is to think positively.  Don’t dwell on the negative; don’t feel sorry for yourself.  You have so … Continue reading

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The Stigma of Mental Illness

Today, a British periodical published a story that serves to underscore the stigma of mental illness.  A pizza was delivered to the staff at a psychiatric hospital.  On the ticket, the address was characterized as the “looney bin.” It seems … Continue reading

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That’s Me You’re Talking About

I don’t stand out in a crowd. On the bus I’m just another bored passenger trying to get somewhere. At the grocery store I get the usual food – bread and meat and potatoes – what we all buy. In … Continue reading

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A Broken Spirit

It’s two AM, three – I don’t know. I’m in agony. I want to scream. I’m crying, sobbing over a lonely life and now a lonely death. I cannot go on. Out of the depths have I cried unto Thee, … Continue reading

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Cutting

I’m doing it again – slowly, carefully cutting myself. I don’t know why I do it. I don’t like to. It hurts. What’s wrong with me? I make half-hearted attempts to stop, always returning like some helpless addict. Here I … Continue reading

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Diagnosis

For most of my life, I was diagnosed as having some sort of depression. There were several variations over the years, but the common thread of them all was depression. As it happens, this wasn’t correct. The diagnosis has changed … Continue reading

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Disaster Areas

Every so often a tornado or other disaster strikes, killing several people, injuring many more. It’s heartbreaking to see images of these people, traumatized, homeless, some having lost loved ones, some having lost everything they had. You can’t see these … Continue reading

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First Hospitalization

One wild night, I was about to kill myself with a shotgun. I was interrupted and ran off into the night. The police found me in a park, where they surrounded me at a distance. I didn’t want to hurt … Continue reading

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Prozac, Starbucks, and Me

Near me is a sheltered care residence for the mentally ill. They don’t need to be confined, but they need help. My wanderings often take me past this melancholy place.

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I Am *Not* Mentally Ill

Whenever someone says that in a movie, you just know this is going to end badly.  I’m not trying to claim that I don’t have mental illness. Unfortunately, I do. However, I am rephrasing it slightly to focus on the … Continue reading

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