A chance meeting with the pastors of an Internet church resulted in me being given a book called "The Hallelujah Life" by Richard Propes, an Indianapolis-based children's advocate who has paraplegia and spinal bifida. While there is some triggering material in this book due to descriptions of the sexual abuse he survived and his suicidal episodes, this is a book I can not recommend strongly enough for people with borderline personality disorder (BPD). I learned much from this 117-page book of poetry and short stories, but perhaps the most important lesson was that abuse is confusing.

I have two mental health warning signs that alert me to psychiatric danger. Each one serves to warn me what type of danger I'll be in. Knowing these "early warning signs" is crucial to surviving my Borderline Personality Disorder diagnosis.

I recently received some bad news. My maternal grandmother's husband, who stepped in as a grandfather after mine died, was diagnosed with the early stages of Alzheimer's disease. This brings back bad memories for me, not only because my paternal grandfather had it and in his last days didn't know me, but also because when my maternal grandfather was diagnosed with cancer, my mother took on extra responsibilities. The problem is, she took the stress from this out on her kids and became emotionally abusive. I believe this is why I developed borderline personality disorder (BPD). So how am I to handle this?

Sometimes psychiatric symptoms can cause an encounter with the police. Sadly, these encounters don't always bode well for the person with a mental illness. More Than Borderline's Becky Oberg talks about how specialized training can save lives by teaching police officers how to deal with people in a psychiatric crisis.

To say I was in a foul mood was an understatement. I'd been escorted by the police to the Midtown Community Mental Health Center's Crisis Invtervention Unit (CIU). I'd been waiting for a few hours to talk to a therapist, which is annoying even when psychiatric symptoms haven't flared up. But I was in for a surprise.

Recent events have left us, as a nation, shocked and disturbed. For me, the explosion in West, Texas hits closer to home than the bombing of the Boston Marathon since I used to live in nearby Waco. And the floods in the Midwest are literally a few miles from my apartment. Sometimes our emotions and mental health symptoms can get triggered by national tragedy. So how do we emotionally handle a disaster?

Recently I had a nightmare. I was in handcuffs and shackles, being transported by police to Richmond State Hospital in Richmond, Indiana, and determined not to go. I consider my time at Richmond State the worst four months of my life, and I don't want to go back. In the dream, I kicked the paddy wagon door--and in real life woke up when my foot connected with my window. Later that day, I wrote about it and realized the therapeutic power of writing.

I've often said that it would be interesting to do a study on psychosis among charismatic Christians or others who emphasize spiritual experiences in daily life. How many would be psychotic? And how do we know the difference between religious experiences and psychosis? How do we know the difference between a heavenly experience and the hell of mental illness? I once read a book that attempted to answer this question by saying that religious experiences are usually visual and pleasant.

Did you know that Miss Piggy can teach us a lot about anger? For the lesson, watch this video. Note Miss Piggy's hysterical but understandable overreactions, and ask what you can learn from them.

They say that music can soothe the savage beast. In this video, More Than Borderline's Becky Oberg explores music's therapeutic benefits and plays an original song on her Native American flute.