chronic pain, Mental health

Ugly Truth 62: Proper Diagnosis is a Long Hard Road

“Calling it lunacy makes it easier to explain away the things we don’t understand.”

-Megan Chance, The Spiritualist

Dear Readers,

Welcome back to Deskraven, your mental health forum. If you’re looking for a vehicle to elevate your voice, please email me at!

I don’t know when this blog shifted from topics of mental illness to chronic pain, but I’ve been going through my diagnosis process for the better part of five years. The truth is chronic pain and physical illness can have a profound impact on your mental health.

To recap, in 2017 I became unable to work for four months and applied for disability. I was denied, and had no choice but to reduce my level of functionality from very active roles to a desk job. At that time we thought my pain was related to a car accident that took place in 2015. Last year my leg pain worsened and my ankles swelled up. I was hospitalized for two days where we ruled out neurological conditions and autoimmune disorders.

After seeing a chiropractor and receiving a lumbar region MRI it was discovered that I have a 2mm L5/S1 disc herniation, mild spinal stenosis, and early signs of arthritis. Shortly after I was referred for epidural spinal injections. When I met with my pain management doctor, he started me on Gabapentin to assist with nerve pain and scheduled a nerve conduction study also known as an EMG (see previous post). This test came back unremarkable.

At my follow up appointment this week my pain management doctor pointed out that none of my test results so far explain my pain levels. With that said, he referred me to an OBGYN for a pelvic exam to asses for endometriosis.

Endometriosis is a condition where endometrial tissue grows on the outside of the uterus and nearby organ systems. Every month, the tissue swells and sheds on the inside of the uterus leaving the body in what we know to be the female menstrual cycle. With endometriosis, the tissue behaves the same way, swelling and shedding, although because it is outside the uterus it has no where to go resulting in internal bleeding, scar tissue, and immeasurable pain said to be worse than child birth. This condition creates lasting damage and health concerns as the body attempts to cope with the strain of chronic pain, incorrect autoimmune responses, nerve damage, hormonal imbalances, infertility, and digestive troubles. Aside from severe chronic pain, women often report fatigue, headaches, pain during sex, and mood swings that significantly interfere with their ability to function, participate in social activity, or maintain a quality of life. No two cases are exactly the same, and women’s health continues to be a pressing stigmatized issue.

There are four stages of endometriosis depending on the severity and depth of tissue damage. Some women may be in stage one and experience debilitating pain. Others may be in stage four and have no symptoms at all. Surgery is almost always required and may result in anything ranging from laparoscopic procedures to a full hysterectomy. Endometriosis never completely goes away, and must be monitored through out a woman’s life to assess the need for additional surgery. Treatment options also include pain management, pelvic floor physical therapy, and hormone therapy.

I meet my OBGYN on the 31st. My pain management doctor added Cymbalta to my Gabapentin in the mean time. I follow up with him in two months. I have mixed feelings, but I’ll try anything.

I’m in pain everyday. It is tearfully worse around my unmanageable monthly cycles and I do have a history of cesarean surgery. My pain is localized in my lower back, hips, pelvis and shoots down into my legs with what feels like warm stabbing nerve compression and muscle spasms. I feel tingling on the top of my feet. The right side of my body hurts more than the left which consistently throws off my balance. I have trouble walking, standing, driving, sleeping and can not tolerate exercise at this point. I also have a history of migraine, vertigo, mood instability, and my mobility has dramatically decreased.

It stands to reason that I would assume this was a spinal injury, but I’ve been taken down another road entirely. I experienced improper diagnosis and treatment as a teen sequestered in the psychiatric wing of a local hospital as well. It wasn’t until my mid-twenties that I was correctly diagnosed with the mental health conditions I manage now. I am now 31 and there’s a real possibility that I have been experiencing endometriosis for the past ten years masquerading as something else.

The truth is you can think you know what’s wrong with you and it can be something you never suspected – or – more than one thing. I have had to contact my physicians to confirm prescriptions have been ordered and amend my medical records. I have had to do extensive research of my own, and seek second and third opinions. The truth is we expect doctors to know it all, but they don’t. The truth is doctors make mistakes. It’s so important to advocate for yourself in the medical setting and work as a team. Working with mental health conditions and psychiatrists is no different. I’ve been doing well for a long period of time, but I’m considering returning to therapy.

In some cases medical trauma can meet acute clinical criteria for PTSD. If you’ve read this blog for any period of time, you know this has been a hurdle of mine. The truth is trauma and grief are not linear. We can not always anticipate recovery or relapse, which is why strategic coping skills are so important to develop if you have any intention of coping well. No amount of meditation or eastern scrap of religion could have prepared me for this, but it does help.

Discuss: Have you ever been misdiagnosed or the subject of a medical mystery? Share your story in the comments below!

**If you’re a mental health survivor or mental health provider and want to tell your story – please email me at!**

For more excellent insight and entertainment through a collaborative approach to all things mental health, including a guest post from yours truly, visit the Blunt Therapy Blog by Randy Withers, LPC! For additional perspectives on suicide prevention from master level mental health providers visit, 20 Professional Therapists Share Their Thoughts on Suicide!

In collaboration with Luis Posso, an Outreach Specialist from, Deskraven is now offering guides on depression and suicide prevention to its readers. For more information on understanding the perils of addiction visit, Substance Abuse and Suicide: A Guide to Understanding the Connection and Reducing Risk! In addition, for a comprehensive depression resource guide from their sister project at Columbus Recovery Center visit, Dealing with Depression!

chronic pain, Mental health

Ugly Truth 61: Pain Management

“Surrender is an incredibly difficult topic in light of chronic illness, because loss is often continued and sustained.”
-Cindee Snider Re, Finding Purpose: Rediscovering Meaning in a Life with Chronic Illness

Dear Readers,

Deskraven was designed with community in mind. If you’re interested in writing for the Deskraven Blog, please email me at to obtain a copy of the interview questions. There’s no catch, and you may submit your writing anonymously if you wish.

Sometimes I surrender to the process. Other times I demand more of myself and those who love me. Chronic pain is a tricky thing, and the truth is I am starting to lose heart.

Earlier this month I had an MRI that revealed an L5/S1 disc herniation and spinal stenosis. Still, these did not explain my pain levels, so my chiropractor referred me for pain management. Initially, he had spinal steroid injections on his mind. However, with a more conservative approach my Wife and I went for a second opinion. Ultimately, we located our own pain management physician who is also a spinal specialist. After my first exam he asked to view my MRI images himself, started me on Gabapentin, and referred me for a complete Nerve Conduction Study/EMG to asses my nerve damage before moving forward with epidural spinal injections. Today was that day, and let me just say if you have never experienced one of these, count yourself blessed because it’s some kind of monster.

Upon arrival my neurodiagnostic tech greeted my Wife and I. Even though he was awesome, knowledgeable, and forthcoming about the level of discomfort I would experience, nothing could have prepared me for this.

He explained that there would be three phases to the procedure. First, he would adhere leads to my lower extremities and use electrical stimulation to measure my nerve response. He would begin on a low setting and increase accordingly along my lower back, legs, and feet. Next, he would adhere leads to my forehead and feet to measure my brain’s response time to S1 nerve stimulation, an area thought to be damaged in my case. Finally, he would insert small needles into my legs, feet, and back to measure my nerve response in a flexed position versus a relaxed state. He stated treatment routes can range anywhere from nerve surgeons to physical therapy based in the results. He informed me the procedure would last thirty to forty five minutes, and we began.

I took a deep breath and did my best to relax even though I was anxious and cold. I tolerated the first round fairly well being that I have experience with a TENS unit at home. It felt very similar along my legs and feet, however, as he increased intensity so too did my discomfort. It was interesting to detect abnormalities in my response to stimulation on my left and right side. The right side of my body seems to be notably problematic due to spinal stenosis (a narrowing of the spine) and the subsequent nerve damage. My Wife sat across the room observing my limbs jumping on the table as the tech wound up his tools and administered increasing shocks to various parts of my body. I took comfort knowing she was there, and I was able to relax into a state of meditation. The tech asked if I was okay, and we had a good laugh about good patients and bad patients. He confided in me that some people scream and cry, and it isn’t unusual for them to walk out altogether. It didn’t take long before my meditation broke and I was overcome by wincing pain. Suddenly, I could understand why.

Next, the tech applied electrode gel and medical adhesive to my forehead right where your third eye might be, as well as on the top of my head. This was relatively painless, a gentle respite from what was to come. He explained this was used to measure brain activity in relation to sensation in the S1 nerve specifically. And so I sat, for two important minutes in complete silence, careful not to move.

Next came the needles, and even though I kept my humor about me to aid in my composure, I knew the next part would require I call the warrior in me to the surface. The tech explained he would insert small needles into three locations on each leg, and four on either side of my spine for a total of ten. The insertion of each needle was tolerable, but then he added intense electrical stimulation and asked me to flex and hold various positions. During the time of the recording, a loud crackling sound could be heard emitting from the computer speakers. As if the excruciating pain some may equate with torture wasn’t enough, I felt as though I could be scooped up by space creatures at any second. I began to groan and hum a bit, noticing some parts of me were significantly weaker and more pain producing than the rest. Lastly, he asked me to turn onto my tummy where he would repeat the same procedure on my lower back. Surprisingly, this wasn’t as painful as the others, likely due to the fact that I was already defeated and there’s more tissue to absorb the shock and pinch.

Finally, my Wife tied up a few loose insurance ends and my shoes were returned to me. The tech informed me he would forward his findings to a neurologist and we would have the results at my follow up appointment with my pain management doctor in three weeks. I thanked him and wished him a safe drive home. He handed us his business card and wished us well before I stumbled out the door.

The first thing I did was crawl into the car and light a cigarette. I felt all of my medical trauma adding up. I knew the tears would come, but not yet. First we had errands to run and children to mother. I felt as though I left my body more than once and nothing really mattered outside the dissociative cloud I had moved into. I just wanted to collapse into my Wife who I am so grateful for and shut the world out. I just wanted to take a moment to validate my suffering. I just wanted to fall apart and not worry about anything else. Soon the demand became too great, my boundaries crumbled in my vulnerability, and I moved into a state of overwhelm. Even though my loving well intentioned Wife was going on about practical things, I couldn’t hold it anymore and my eyes welled up with tears. Naturally she was concerned, but I reassured her it had nothing to do with the groceries. I’ve worked hard to push my processing delay forward with the wisdom that it’s okay and perfectly healthy to cry. I have been a brilliant suppressor who constantly seeks to release that part of herself.

Finally, we returned home and the night ensued with challenging parenting, wine, reflection, and warm water.

I could sit here and tell you ten clever Deskraven ways to cope with chronic pain, but the truth is I haven’t uncovered anything yet that has truly provided meaningful relief. Like psychology, it seems to be nothing more than symptom management and breakthrough pain despite your best efforts. There are good days and there are hard days. Today was most definitely a hard day.

So, here I lay in a tepid puddle measuring my mental health against physical defeat, sharing all of this with you for the sake of the one person who needs to read it. Please do not despair. You are not alone. Tomorrow will be mostly bed ridden sleep, and hard prayer for the answers I know are coming. When they do, I promise to share them with you, too.

Discuss: How has chronic pain impacted your life? How do you cope?

**If you’re a mental health survivor or mental health provider and want to tell your story – please email me at!**

For more excellent insight and entertainment through a collaborative approach to all things mental health, including a guest post from yours truly, visit the Blunt Therapy Blog by Randy Withers, LPC! For additional perspectives on suicide prevention from master level mental health providers visit, 20 Professional Therapists Share Their Thoughts on Suicide!

In collaboration with Luis Posso, an Outreach Specialist from, Deskraven is now offering guides on depression and suicide prevention to its readers. For more information on understanding the perils of addiction visit, Substance Abuse and Suicide: A Guide to Understanding the Connection and Reducing Risk! In addition, for a comprehensive depression resource guide from their sister project at Columbus Recovery Center visit, Dealing with Depression!

chronic pain, Lifestyle, Mental health

Ugly Truth 60: I’m Tired

“Fatigue is here, in my body, in my legs and eyes. That is what gets you in the end.”
-Margaret Atwood

Dear Readers,

Sometimes getting better means getting worse first. The truth is I have more than I could ever dream of, but my exhaustion remains paralyzing.

When you have mental illness and chronic pain there’s a part of you that cries every time you have to get out of bed, but you do it because you don’t have a choice and no one truly gives a shit. The bills have to be paid regardless of the despair in your gut or the fire in your bones. Fatigue is a powerful and difficult thing. In fact, almost all of my suicidal ideation stems from this sense of overwhelm.

So far, I have found the only way around this is to take it in stride. Most days I feel good about the progress I have made, am making, and will continue to make; some days I buckle at the knees and I’m forced to listen to my body.

I spend weekends in bed because a two-day recovery is my minimum necessity for pain management, and daylight alone literally drains the energy from my soul. On the other hand, being so sensitive has taught me everything I need to know about boundaries and gravity. Be sure to ask yourself exactly what you need in these moments, and don’t dismiss the answer. My body craves solitude for example. The truth is I am a writer, but it still took me years to develop my use of language.

Why is it so difficult to get the fucking words out? Putting my agony into command has always been a challenge, be it physical or psychological. There is very little that really measures up, and I want to get it right. Sitting there from one specialist to the next, my wife squaring her shoulders beside me because she doesn’t know how to protect me from this, watching the dust settle in the afternoon light – I just want to be heard. Just once, I’d love to be taken care of. I don’t have to ask myself how I got here because I already know the answer. All I can do now is hope and pray for competent physicians. So far I have met some wonderful providers, and others who really make you ponder the meaning of the profession. The truth is honesty is always my best policy in life, in love, and in languishing.

I finally got some answers last week, and for that I am grateful. My TENS unit is giving me relief. I am sleeping better, and experiencing wider ranges of mobility – but I still have a lot of work to do. I know because I feel pushed to the brink, and I’m crying easily these days. I have my next doctor’s appointment on Wednesday, and my mind has a way of making something out of nothing; What if steroid injections don’t work? What if spinal decompression makes things worse? What if I’m never fully able to physically rehabilitate? What if the insurance runs out? What if my depression is always treatment resistant? What if I have to apply for disability again? This week my governor declared a state of natural disaster during a global pandemic for a life threatening ice storm approaching Houston, and suddenly his toll reflects my own. People are dying outside. We would all be better off staying home.

When we’re talking about serious fatigue, it makes the really small stuff feel insurmountable. I find myself in a constant state of mental preparation, and it’s not something an afternoon nap will cure. I wish I never would have taken my vitality for granted. It feels like I’m walking through quicksand underwater with weights on my feet. Soon I can’t breathe, and no amount of sleep or wine is enough. When it is time to sleep, I often can’t without a medicinal assist and when I do, nightmares and screaming neighbors persist. Still, sometimes the absence of something teaches us to truly understand its value.

The exhaustion is a visceral reaction to small daily obligation because my energy is redirected to everything it takes to hold my body upright during the day. I know tapered activities and exercise is the best way to combat this, but I must be patient until I get my spine under control. Unfortunately, I can’t tolerate exertion the way I used to. If I were to lean into it now, I run the risk of injuring myself further. In the meantime, hydration, eating well, and bed rest is ushering me through. The truth is being a full-time working mother, wife, and student will have to wait as I learn to balance these demands with self-care. I am learning how to reorganize my life. If you’re somewhere out there in the ether and you’re feeling overwhelmed, remember you’re not alone. The truth is it’s okay to cry, and it’s okay to tell about it.

Discuss: When was the last time you cried? How do you cope with clinical fatigue?

**If you’re a mental health survivor or mental health provider and want to tell your story – please email me at!**

For more excellent insight and entertainment through a collaborative approach to all things mental health, including a guest post from yours truly, visit the Blunt Therapy Blog by Randy Withers, LPC! For additional perspectives on suicide prevention from master level mental health providers visit, 20 Professional Therapists Share Their Thoughts on Suicide!

In collaboration with Luis Posso, an Outreach Specialist from, Deskraven is now offering guides on depression and suicide prevention to its readers. For more information on understanding the perils of addiction visit, Substance Abuse and Suicide: A Guide to Understanding the Connection and Reducing Risk! In addition, for a comprehensive depression resource guide from their sister project at Columbus Recovery Center visit, Dealing with Depression!

chronic pain, Lifestyle, Mental health, recovery

Ugly Truth 59: Chronic Pain Will Teach You Everything You Need to Know About Yourself

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” -Kahlil Gibran

Dear Readers,

At Deskraven we believe in the collaborative approach that connects those in need with meaningful content and the voice no one else will give them. For more information on how to write for the Deskraven blog or connect with resources on addiction, depression, and suicide prevention – please scroll to the bottom of this post. I encourage you all to participate in the comments section below so we can continue to dialogue on these very important topics.

The truth is I should be doing my homework right now, but I have so much to say. Last week marked the beginning of the end of a very long road. If you know me personally or have been a dedicated Deskraven reader, then you know I am not shy about sharing my diagnoses with my readers. This is because I believe in assigning pain a function so that our suffering may not be in vain. This, emboldened by the power of community, has offered me a great deal of meaningful processing and the subsequent healing that follows. The mission now is to return that information back to the masses.

That being said, I live with Mixed Bipolar Disorder, PTSD, and Panic Disorder w/ Agoraphobia. I have many posts archived on all of these disorders if you care to learn more specifically about how these can impact your life. For now, I will be concise.

In short, Mixed Bipolar Disorder is characterized by disorienting mood swings and behavioral changes that often result in significant social and professional consequences. Mixed episodes are unique in that in contrast to Type 1 or Type 2 Bipolar Disorder, Mixed Bipolar Disorder consists of both highs (mania) and lows (depression) simultaneously. This is considered significant because people who experience mixed episodes are at a greater risk of suicide due to the impulsive energy mania provides while also being in a state of depression. This presents differently for each sufferer, but in general I experience a great deal of grief and agitation that can range anywhere from clinical sadness to full blown psychosis if I am not careful to force feed myself self-care and the power of saying, “No.”

Similarly, PTSD is characterized by mood instability, sleep disturbances, and a false sense of reality brought on by trauma. Trauma consists of experiencing something life threatening such as war, relationship abuse, addiction, mental illness, an auto accident, a chronic illness, medical trauma, an untimely death, a sexual assault, etc. – or watching someone we love experience these things. Trauma is relative so what may be traumatizing for you may not be for someone else, or vice versa. Most people who experience these types of life disturbances experience a period of profound grief. Often with the help of a professional counselor or spiritual teacher, we are able to move through, process, and release trauma in a way that both honors our suffering, and releases us from our entanglement to the traumatic event. This allows us to move forward with little to no lasting impact on our mental health. Individuals who become stuck or stagnant in this process develop Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).

Finally, Panic Disorder is characterized by panic attacks, the sensation that you will in fact die at any second, physical manifestations of fear including shaking and hyperventilation, and the fear of their inevitable return – usually in public. As you can see, this disorder is incredibly cyclic and self-perpetuating. The good news is this also makes it one of the most treatable mental health conditions. Agoraphobia is often the product of Panic Disorder in that this experience triggers pathologized avoidance of public, wide open spaces, crowds, and any location that may produce the inability to escape to the point that it becomes a clinical phobia that interferes with your quality of life or your ability to leave your home.

For some reason my soul decided that the above conditions resulting in two in-patient psychiatric hospitalizations would not suffice for one lifetime. So, in addition I also experienced a car accident in 2015 that ultimately lead to me developing physical chronic pain. Subsequently, I had several other injuries over the years, including a concussion, but believe this incident to be the most significant. What I should have done was seek treatment from the Orthopedic Surgeon and Physical Therapist I was referred to, and made the person who hit me pay for it. Instead, in my stubborn naiveté, I accepted a $1200 settlement and never went to the doctor. For the first couple of years I had aches and pains, but in general I remained very active and physically fit. Sometime in 2017 my injury worsened.

Suddenly, I found myself collapsing at the side of my bed when attempting to stand up. I found I could no longer tolerate my yoga practice because the nerve pain was excruciating. I could no longer enjoy being active in nature or playing with my son. I experienced neurological symptoms and nearly lost consciousness. My posture began to suffer and I developed difficulty walking, standing, sitting, sleeping, driving…existing. No matter what I did I couldn’t get comfortable. The pain was constant, burning, and sharp; localized in my lower back, shooting into my hip joints, and down into my lower extremities. I experienced inflammation, pins and needles, numbness, muscle spasms and migraines. At the height of this I found myself completely unable to work, slowly losing everything I had worked so hard for, and applying for long-term disability before the age of 30. Countless ER visits, a bajillion CAT scans, innumerable blood draws, and one grueling in-patient hospitalization later we were able to rule out life threatening neurological conditions and auto-immune disorders.

Last week I met with a Spine Specialist and received the MRI I have been seeking for years. Finally, I got some answers: L5/S1 central disc herniation and a narrowing of the spine, sometimes referred to as Spinal Stenosis. In light of these results my doctor referred me for various types of treatment including chiropractic adjustments, a 20-session spinal decompression program, and pain management including spinal steroid injections with the end goal being complete physical rehabilitation. Fortunately, he believes I am not a candidate for surgery at this time. He is also considering additional MRIs as he has seen in his practice a neck injury masquerading as lumbar pain.

After some discourse and the types of answers that only yield more questions, we decided the best course of action would be to get a second opinion before we commit to a decision and begin pain management. Currently, I am spending 2-3 days a week in doctor’s offices, receiving chiropractic treatment, alternating between hot showers and ice packs, consuming copious amounts of ibuprofen, altering my lifestyle as much as I can tolerate, and spending 30-40 minutes a day hooked up to a TENS unit at home with the help of my beautiful wife.

The more doctors you meet the more you realize why medicine is considered a practice. No one really has all the answers. It becomes paramount to advocate for yourself in the medical setting, and to work together to find the best course of treatment for you. Finding a good doctor or therapist is a lot like dating. Chronic pain is not that different from psychological anguish. The outcome is the same, and sometimes it takes time to find the right provider.

Somewhere I read that ruin is a gift life gives us because it is only in the dismantling that we are able to transcend our suffering. In this light, I have come to appreciate my white-knuckling desperation as an indication of teaching, as well as the not so gentle push from my loving wife to seek treatment. Perhaps the key to becoming a true patient is to simply not engage in resistance, the same way mental health recovery means not resisting the good that is being offered to you even though you’ve been told your whole life that you don’t deserve it. It’s okay to feel how you feel, so long as you’re willing to do something about it. The truth is I am as stubborn as they come, however, this trait will never serve me unless I learn how to shift resistance into determination.

Humility has been my calling to self-development and recovery my calling to life. Similar to the way a flower manages to bloom between the cracks in a sidewalk, at some point you learn that overcoming suffering is a choice. I know this experience is going to teach me exactly what I’m made of because the only way out is through. This resilience is revelatory coming from someone who previously held no sense of self-preservation. I say that to say this: Do not ignore your pain in whatever form it takes. Address it.

Healing is not only for you, but for those who love you, and refuse to stand idly by while you concede to what your life has become. The truth is that despite every obstacle you have faced, you do not have to accept victimization or enabling on your path to wellness. The truth is you can decide to take accountability, to change, and to do whatever it takes to reclaim your quality of life. I know there will be days of purposeful set-backs. Sometimes I make progress. Sometimes I cry and the chores don’t get done. Still, I can see myself on the other side of this, and I can’t wait to give my wife the partner she deserves.

Discuss: How has chronic pain impacted your life and mental health?

**If you’re a mental health survivor or mental health provider and want to tell your story – please email me at!**

For more excellent insight and entertainment through a collaborative approach to all things mental health, including a guest post from yours truly, visit the Blunt Therapy Blog by Randy Withers, LPC! For additional perspectives on suicide prevention from master level mental health providers visit, 20 Professional Therapists Share Their Thoughts on Suicide!

In collaboration with Luis Posso, an Outreach Specialist from, Deskraven is now offering guides on depression and suicide prevention to its readers. For more information on understanding the perils of addiction visit, Substance Abuse and Suicide: A Guide to Understanding the Connection and Reducing Risk! In addition, for a comprehensive depression resource guide from their sister project at Columbus Recovery Center visit, Dealing with Depression!

Mental health

Ugly Truth 49: My Strength Will Always Waver

“Silence. How long it lasted, I couldn’t tell. It might have been five seconds, it might have been a minute. Time wasn’t fixed. It wavered, stretched, shrank. Or was it me that wavered, stretched, and shrank in the silence? I was warped in the folds of time, like a reflection in a fun house mirror.”
― Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance

*WARNING: This post makes mention of suicide, self injury, drug use, and abuse. If you find this type of content triggering, please do not continue reading. If you or someone you love is at risk, please call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255*

Dear Readers,

As we the near the halfway point of my 100 Truths, I want to take a moment to thank those of you who have followed along this far. It has been a project in introspection, and an excellent conversation starter.

As many of you know, trauma-work has been at the forefront of my healing over the last few years. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder has been one of my more pervasive diagnoses, and so I find myself being continuously humbled by its rearing ugly head. The truth is sometimes I feel impenetrably strong. Other times I feel one more traumatic event away from losing my last marble. It doesn’t scare me as much as it used to because now I have the tools, but even a well equipped person can stumble backward.

While I spend a great deal of time advocating for others on all things mental health, I often feel unprepared and overwhelmed by what it feels like to be me. For all intents and purposes I should be dead and yet, I am still here. The truth is I still face sensations of disheartened dismay. The truth is I tried to take my own life three times. The truth is I have other family members who have tried and failed, still others who have tried and succeeded. The truth is suicide still crosses my mind as a function of mental illness, but these days I wont act on it. Socrates said, “the unexamined life is not worth living.” I couldn’t agree more.

Child Abuse

Unfortunately, abuse is often generational. When I hear about the awful happenings in the world, I often imagine what the parents of those perpetrators must have been like. While nothing serves as an excuse for abuse, there are certainly explanations found all throughout human psychology. I have written about this before, however as I continue to process, I will go into greater detail in this post.

My mother is a survivor of abuse herself, and her lack of self-understanding was often reflected in her poor choice of partners. For as long as I can remember my parents were rarely in the same room, but my father was the only man who never hit her. My first step-father certainly doled out the worst of it. He was physically, emotionally, and verbally abusive toward my mother and I. The abuse consisted of name-calling, yelling, hair-pulling, hitting, slapping, pushing, shoving, squeezing and biting. Domestic violence was an almost daily occurrence in our home, not to be deterred by the company of others. This man destroyed a handful of my birthdays, relationships, and self-esteem. Adding insult to injury, he went so far as to cheat on my mother with her best friend, and threatened to take my very life.

My mother would later share with me that this was her breaking point. This was the event that finally gave her the courage to leave. She still harbors a great deal of guilt from this time in our life, and while I can not fathom exposing my son to these things, I understand her hesitation. Domestic violence often escalates when the victim attempts to end or flee the relationship.

Fortunately, my mind has managed to block out a lot of what happened. Eventually though, the memories resurfaced and my mother helped me fill in the blanks. These things did happen. I was questioned by police, and from the ages of 3 to 10 I was subject to child abuse on a pretty consistent basis. There were other odd things that took place as a result of our economic status such as exposure to petty home invasions, a general lack of supervision, and abusive babysitters.

Later, my mother met another man who was equally dysfunctional, but slightly less violent. He promised to carry us out of our hell and give us a fresh start. During my teenage years he mostly targeted my mother and younger sister. My previous abuse had grown in me a spine that would not tolerate anymore assault, and I told him so, directly to his red spitting face.

During these years the affairs of my mother would exacerbate the violence, and expose us to more strange men. As far back as my memory allows, my home was filled with undertones of abuse, and the childhood conclusion that the world is an unreliable and unsafe place. In some form of strange validation, my medical records show the early stages of my mental illness during this time with consistent reports of anxiety, depression, and panic attacks.

Abandonment and Sexual Abuse

When I was 12 my father experienced something of an existential crisis paired with a job offer that offered him a leg up, and he could no longer call Minnesota home. After spending the last decade of my life seeing my father every other weekend, which was often the only opportunity I had to escape my abuse and build positive memories, he moved to Texas. This experience caused me to cry more than I ever had before in my young life. It also prompted me to put my feelings on paper for the first time.

When I was 15, I was given the opportunity to drive cross-country with a family friend who would later add to my betrayal. He sexually abused me three times over the course of a month before I finally spoke up. While the abuse stopped, the repercussions of this event has had one of the worst ripple effects that still plagues my family today. You can read the details of what happened in a previous post titled, Trauma Confession Series: Overcoming Avoidance, where I speak about this publicly for the very first time.

Mental Illness and my First Suicide Attempt

The sexual abuse was my tipping point. Not surprisingly, I entered into similarly dysfunctional and abusive relationships and suffered those consequences as well. I began tolerating treatment I shouldn’t because it was what I had been exposed to. On some level, I felt I deserved it – which I would later learn could not be further from the truth. I endured false accusations, control dynamics, manipulation, and abuse for another five years. During this time my trauma aligned with my teenage turmoil and grew into a new kind of monster. Soon, my self preservation completely left me, and I began hurting myself. I started with kitchen knives and safety pins before graduating to razors. The scars were getting harder to hide and wearing hoodies in July was just impractical. So, I began piling on anything I could use to harm myself or alter my mood state including drugs, alcohol, and eating disorders. During this time my grades began to slip as my transcript clearly shows, the violence in my home continued, my mental illness worsened with increased episodes of hallucination and dissociation, and I grew increasingly detached from my surroundings.

One evening, I went across the street to spend the night with a friend. She could see that something was off with me. Looking back now, I can see how gentle and deliberate she was in her intervention and I am grateful, but at the time I was extremely pissed off. She left the room and I began dissociating from my environment once more as I searched for a sharp object. When she re-entered the room she could see me rummaging through her room and I mumbled something about walking into oncoming traffic. “I’ll be right back,” she said. When she returned she fed me some story about her mother driving to the bank and insisted I tag along. I shrugged my shoulders and got in the car. I stared out the window saying very little when I realized we were not at the bank at all. We were in the parking lot of our local emergency room. I snapped into a red hot anger I can still feel 15 years later. How dare she save me?

I sat in that emergency room for a long while refusing to give up my information as my friend pleaded with the nurse to admit me. Eventually I caved and gave my identifying information. During my stay I experienced sucide watch isolation, spiritual phenomena, the probing questions of a much younger child, and I was asked to take the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI) which was ultimately used to improperly diagnose and improperly medicate me. Unfortunately this is fairly common in dealing with teenagers and complex mental illness. You can read more about self injury, what therapy taught me, and how I freed myself from this in a previous post titled, Trauma Confession Series: Self-Injury & Letting Go.

Suicide in the Family

In the years that followed I continued to fall into bad patterns of behavior. Finally at my wits end, I left home at the age of 17 and never looked back. I bounced around the Midwest for a couple of years before I totally lost my footing. Following an unhealthy relationship with a traumatic ending, I relocated to Texas eager to rebuild. Not long after a failed attempt to purchase a vehicle and enroll in college for the first time, I found myself the recipient of more bad news. Within 24 hours I lost a dear family friend and my maternal grandfather to suicide. You can read the full story in a previous post titled, A Suicide Survivor Story – Part I and Part II.

Self Injury and Self Medicating

Not surprisingly, experiencing loss to suicide shook me to my core and sent me spiraling into an untreated dangerous mind set. At the age of 19 I had slim to no coping skills, and fell deeper into substance abuse and disordered eating to cope with the nightmares alone. Through it all I fought like hell to be better. I was writing feverishly, grasping at mindfulness exercises, and finally confessing to myself that I was attracted to women. The fight within was violent. Eventually the scales tipped against me and the surge of pain I experienced proved to be too great. At the height of it, I found myself waking up hungover in pools of blood and tepid bath water, still fully clothed from the night before. I knew if I didn’t change my circumstances I would die.

My closeness with my father, God help me I love him, was not enough to sustain me much longer. Perhaps he recognized this, and in his fine intuition urged me to make a suicide pact with him. In our shared desperation we promised each other that come hell or high water, and we had had plenty of both at that point, suicide was just simply not an option. So, I set out to make big changes in my life, once more chasing the breath the world seemed determined to squeeze out of me.

The Turning Point

I took a job away from home, traveled excessively, and learned to fall in love again. With the help of my incredible friends and mentors, I began to reconnect with others, with life, and with myself. At the age of 21 I learned I was pregnant, and my life was no longer about me. My body was no longer mine, and my mind no longer failed to blossom. I became an overnight sensation, instantly sober, and determined to practice motherhood with clarity and poise. I returned to Minnesota and the first couple of years were mostly delightful, albeit bouts of post-partum depression, and the sneaking suspicion that something just wasn’t right with me.

Medical Trauma and Chronic Pain

When my son was approaching his first birthday we decided to move to Colorado. It had been our teenage dream to inherit God’s good mountains and a nature mindset for our son. In true fashion, however, just two weeks in our light was once again snuffed out by something I still find myself unwilling and unable to write about. I fear the task is so great I will never be fully able to grasp or express the magnitude of our experience. (Perhaps the best thing to do would be to one day sit down with my journals from that time and tackle the re-telling from the heart.) In short, our 23 year old brother suffered end stage kidney failure and it traumatized us all.

Two years later I moved back to Texas as it always seemed to offer me a soft landing. Shortly after, I was involved in a car accident that left my body never quite the same. I now live with a spinal injury, S.I. joint dysfunction, nerve damage, and migraines on a daily basis.

It wasn’t until I left my decade of trauma behind that I realized just how severely PTSD had impacted my quality of life. I found myself in a strategic but unhappy marriage with the promise of familiarity and family ties. I was young, but I understood my son’s memory was beginning to form, and I had no choice but to take my mental health seriously. It was time to grow up and get honest because white-knuckling it wasn’t working anymore. So, I went back to school for Child Development and Psychology, entered the field of Behavioral Health, and sought mental health treatment. You can read more in depth about what drove me to find a psychiatrist in a previous post titled, Ugly Truth 34: Psychosis Sucks.

After a proper diagnosis, anti-psychotic medication, and a 7 day in-patient hospitalization that offered me crash course therapy as a professional courtesy, I found myself more stable. I knew there was only one thing left to do.

Identity Crisis and Recovery

Two more years passed until finally I was strong enough to come off my medication, end my marriage, and come out as a lesbian. After one more misstep and two more traumatic relationships, I finally embraced trauma work and self development once and for all. I started to confront the abuse, the abandonment, the trauma, and face my personal truth. I began to manage my symptoms differently and write more, which led to the publication of this blog. I got real with myself and my family about my sexuality. I found it flatly irresponsible to date in my current condition, so I began developing concrete coping skills, growing into my skin, and advocating for others to keep myself in perspective. It sounds strange, but in many ways I had to get to know myself again. Once you strip away all the damage and co-dependency, you’re left with nothing short of a raw sense of self. The truth is you have to process and mourn the loss of whatever pain you carry, let it go (really let it go), and replace it with gratitude for the present moment – which you, and only you, are solely responsible for. It sounds simple enough, however, most people are too busy practicing avoidance or denial to notice. I was one of them. Letting go of my pride and my pain taught me just how useful the vulnerable truth can be. It is a natural gateway to becoming a more loving and compassionate human being, which in turn lends itself well to building meaningful relationships.

Today I am blessed to have more peace in my life than ever before. I try to never lose sight of the fact that the life I live now is something I once could only dream of. There were times so unmatched with darkness I was convinced I would never get out alive. At some point though, you have to set boundaries and take responsibility for your own well being. If you consistently victimize yourself, you will remain in a state of helplessness which, interestingly enough, is a learned behavior. Lucky for us, behavior and thought processes alike are malleable in that they can be changed and modified. As I like to say, adapt or die. Put more gently, pain is inevitable but suffering is optional. No amount of traumatic endurance ensures us that bad things won’t happen. Perhaps the most important thing then, is being prepared for when they do.

Today I have the love of an incredibly beautiful woman who spreads warmth and light everywhere she goes. I feel so lucky to have her, but I also know I deserve her. You can read more about her and how hard I fell in a previous post titled, Ugly Truth 37: Loving a Woman Changed my Worldview.

I have a decent outlook on life (with a healthy dose of cynicism), and most of my sanity intact because that is what I set out to build for myself. The truth is I still struggle from time to time with the chemical imbalances of Bipolar Disorder, the triggers of PTSD, and the irrational uncertainty of Panic Disorder. Some of this just never goes away, but you can certainly achieve some semblance of functioning, happiness even. If nothing else, may this post serve as a reminder that surviving and thriving are not mutually exclusive. Living through trauma is almost never linear. You are not alone, and I’m still here to tell about it.

**If you’re a mental health survivor or mental health provider and want to tell your story – please email me at!**

For more excellent insight and entertainment through a collaborative approach to all things mental health, including a guest post from yours truly, visit the Blunt Therapy Blog by Randy Withers, LPC! For additional perspectives on suicide prevention from master level mental health providers visit, 20 Professional Therapists Share Their Thoughts on Suicide!

In collaboration with Luis Posso, an Outreach Specialist from, Deskraven is now offering guides on depression and suicide prevention to its readers. For more information on understanding the perils of addiction visit, Substance Abuse and Suicide: A Guide to Understanding the Connection and Reducing Risk! In addition, for a comprehensive depression resource guide from their sister project at Columbus Recovery Center visit, Dealing with Depression!