It’s a painful cycle. But for me, simply being aware of it was the first step towards healing.
Drifting in and out of a painkiller haze, I leaned over to check my phone. There on the screen, I saw a text message from my best friend’s mom: “Call 911.”
“This again?” my friend asked with a smirk. I sighed. Yes, again. Another one of my existential crises, right on cue.
Eating disorders can be difficult to understand. I say this as someone who had no idea what they really were, until I was diagnosed with one.
If they’re both anxiety disorders at the end of the day, do these differences really matter?
When I was diagnosed with an eating disorder, there was one question I just couldn’t get out of my head: “How did I miss this?”
If you want to be my lover, you gotta get with my therapist.
"When you are a mental health advocate and writer, especially in such a public way, it’s easy to trick yourself into thinking that you have all the answers to your own problems."
Rather than panicking about whether or not millennials are getting busy, it might be worthwhile to question why we place such a strong emphasis on sex in the first place. Is it the most crucial ingredient for emotional intimacy and wellness? If it is, I have yet to be convinced.
I’m going to challenge you to consider that, no matter how horrifying your thoughts are, you still deserve support. You could have the ugliest, most unhinged thoughts in the entire world and that wouldn’t change the fact that a mental health provider still owes you compassionate, nonjudgmental, and competent care.
I knew that this state of constant fear wasn’t sustainable. So, I decided to do something brave: I fired my therapist.
As 2019 approaches, my newsfeed is already filling with New Year’s resolutions. I see friends planning to run marathons, become morning people, learn to meal plan, and all sorts of ambitions that — quite honestly — sound exhausting to me.