Hi, there. Thanks for visiting. I'm starting this blog as an advocate for mental and physical health. I'm a freelance writer and also own a home based medical transcription business. I was diagnosed in 1978 with paranoid schizophrenia and started to become acutely ill three years prior to that, unmedicated, frightened, confused, and in trouble with the law. I graduated from university with distinction the year I became ill. I've never regretted learning how to think at university. I struggled with my illness for 35 years and have reached the top of the mountain now, I think, or the other side, where the grass is greener and the path easier. There's hope for all of us, the whole human race, and never think there isn't hope or joy no matter your circumstances. I'd love to hear your thoughts and experiences with mental illness in all its forms: depression, brain injury, autism, schizophrenia, bipolar, anxiety disorders, etc. and your positive experiences as well as those lies and half truths society and even therapists would have us believe about ourselves.

We are different folks, and we are beautiful. The whole human race is beautiful. Let's celebrate life.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

The White Rabbit

I received the majority of my comments on my last post about the Mad Hatter Syndrome, haha, and I appreciate my good friends who replied but I really don't want to cross that bridge until I come to it.

I wonder sometimes what makes the difference between today and twenty years ago when I started my long journey into peace, happiness, and freedom.

Is it people?

Friends and acquaintances who offered me a hand when I was too proud or confused to take it?

I didn't recognize a good friend at the time.

I'm remaking my past right now. I'm reframing the negatives into positives so that I have a happier present and a more promising future.

So I can say to the White Rabbit when he invites me to tea,"thank you, sir, I will," and to the Red Queen when she threatens to cut off my head,

"You're all just a pack of cards"...

You see, I took myself and this lifestyle much too seriously. Life is a playground for us if we but choose to view it that way. Like the saying goes, "I want to be used up not rusted out".

My father always said, "I refuse to let them make me live in fear."

I think our memories are very selective. I'm not being dishonest by remembering the good. It's like refusing to watch the six o'clock news on TV. Do I really want all those negative images burning themselves into my brain? That's not to say I'm in denial or that I don't recognize the pettiness and meanness that takes place around us every day, and impacts particularly on those who are a bit lower on society's totem pole. But there's so much that's inspirational and kind, too. Why not choose that path?

And why not believe in the good in humanity? The alternative is bitterness and isolation.


  1. "And why not believe in the good in humanity? The alternative is bitterness and isolation."

    Hear! Hear!

  2. A therapist told me that re-framing and learning from the past isn't disregarding or pretending the bad stuff didn't happen. It's acknowledging it, accepting it, and letting go of something that can't be changed now.

    A lot of the good stuff has happened *because* the bad stuff started a ball rolling.

    I'm with you and the other poster: Here's to the best in all, and our ability to see it.