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I've learned that placing high expectations on myself has resulted in perfectionist standards that have caused anxiety. Throughout my life, I grew up with high expectations that I later on learned would contribute to my anxiety levels. Being more aware of this has helped me focus on how I can reduce the anxiety I feel because of these high standards.
In the time I've spent recovering from binge eating disorder and disordered eating, I've learned how to start over in recovery. I've probably had to "start over" in binge eating recovery 1000 times. Starting over so many times has taught me how to forgive myself and look at myself with eyes of understanding.
Christmas is a wonderful time of year. Even if you're not especially religious, the holiday season offers people a chance to reconnect with family and friends in an atmosphere of merriment and good cheer. However, for those with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), Christmas can pose problems.
If you've ever wondered, "Why do I hurt myself when I'm anxious?" know that you are not alone. Public perception tends to associate self-harm with depression, but anxiety can be a major factor, too.
Speaking up against abuse can be especially difficult for anyone who has been a victim of repeated verbal abuse. Although I find it easy to be the voice for others when I see an abusive situation, it's entirely different for me. I have often faced circumstances when I knew I should have said something and defended myself but could not find my voice. I still struggle to have the same strength I give to others vulnerable to abuse. 
Self-care for schizophrenia is imperative, so protecting my brain is a high priority for me. By self-care, I mean eating nutrient-dense foods (fuel) and exercising, and I also include the things I consume daily, like music, books, movies, magazines, news, etc. In computer science, they have a saying, "garbage in, garbage out." The phrase means that if you put trash into the system, you get trash out of the system (usually referring to poor data). The metaphor is also applicable to my brain.
I’ve chosen to avoid pregnancy conversations over the years. I hesitate even to broach this subject in therapy sessions, and the reason is simple: I'm ambivalent about motherhood. The irony is I love children. I am a huge fan of my friends' little ones. I find my nieces and nephew irresistible. But I don't feel strong maternal instincts, and I lack the desire to parent children of my own.
Mental illness recovery looks nothing like I expected it would. Talk of recovery painted pictures of cures for mental illness that removed all struggle from my life and made everything—and I mean everything—better. What I’ve found is that recovery is different from that perception, and the truth is I’m okay with that.
This is my fourth attempt at writing a post today, and it'll be a miracle if it's my last. Since waking up this morning, I've started three different articles on three different topics, only to give up each after just a few sentences. Nothing was ringing true. So, I've decided to write about the only thing that does feel true, which is that today, I don't have much to say about bliss. I feel no bliss. 
Living with mental illness for many years, learning to love myself has been an ongoing challenge. I've read many books on the topic and discussed it with many therapists, but the key to self-love has remained a mystery. Something I didn't take enough notice of, however, was the fact that I've spent years not doing the things I love the most.

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C.A.
That is not boundaries. If someone’s boundaries require you to not communicate there is something wrong. That is a manipulation tactic not a boundary. That is not about boundaries it is about control.
Robin Gaile
Mahevash, I too suffer (I usually say deal with but I am experiencing an episode too) from major depression disorder and it stinks. Especially this time of year when everyone is cheerful and I'm just not. It's like trying to dig yourself out of quick sand your just stuck and you feel yourself sinking. But you are right about this just being a moment (a terrible sometimes long moment) in time and it will fade and you will see brighter days if you just stick it out. Well I'll get off my soap box now and keep telling myself these things.😊🦋
Dereck
Thank you…. Still no word from her. She’s going to see her psychiatrist for the 3rd time coming up. Her belongings and dog are still here. I’m still supportive in my way, I’m still living my life. I get in my head a lot. Today was rough. Her mom was supposed to talk to her to see what’s going on. I’m still going strong though. I just want to let her know I’m still here for her. I don’t want to put any pressure on her to come home. Just let her know I’m proud of her and I support her. But I imagine she knows that.
Linda singer
I have shared similar frustrations—glad to finally have a name for what makes my life more difficult. I have no sensory memory, but profound emotional ones— not always helpful, either!
Kayla Holtom
I am 16 with a twin brother,Kevin.We both recieved our Sacrement of Confirmation back in early September in the class of 23. Kevin and the other boys had to wear white suits and me and the other girls had to wear white,short sleeve floor length dresses with a veil,white gloves.lace anklets and white maryjane shoes.Two weeks before the ceremony,dad told mom that he wanted me diapered under my dress and mom went along with it! She got a package of 26x27 inch cloth diapers and sewed them together in my waist size to make one diaper out of them.She ordered a pair of white adult size rubberpants[plasticpants] and got a card of diaper pins at Walmart.That sunday morning,after my bath,mom had me sit down on my bed and lay back.She slid the folded diaper under me,applied the babypowder,then brought the diaper up and pinned the corners.Then she put my feet into the waist and leg openings of the rubberpants and pulled them up my legs and over the diaper.Since they were adult size,they fit me blousy over the diaper.My top was put on next,then my dress,veil,lace anklets and the shoes.I was brought out and shown to dad and Kevin.Mom lifted up my dress and showed them the diaper and rubberpants and i turned red!I felt weird walking down the aisle with my classmates and having the diaper and rubberpants on under my dress!