People who equate truth with fact are missing the point.

Seen and Heard at Healthy, Unwealthy, and Becoming Wise

Hey, I wrote a guest post over at my lovely friend Erin’s blog. Come read it, because I said some very important stuff. No, really, I did. I want everyone to know how very important simple acknowledgement is.

A Little of This, A Little of That, and My Inauspicious Writerly Beginnings

Holy ultra-serious blogeration, Batman!

Let’s take it down a notch or nine, shall we?

Because in spite of all the intensity I have expressed here recently, life is damn good right now.

“Damn good” is, of course, subjective. My damn good is not the same as yours (well, for a few of you it’s . . . → Read More: A Little of This, A Little of That, and My Inauspicious Writerly Beginnings

Disposable People

When I was barely pregnant with Jacob, my friend Rachel had a baby, a little girl named Gabrielle. A lovely, tiny thing with a shock of black hair I was compelled to pet whenever I held her, she was Rachel’s first baby.

Six weeks later, SIDS, that terrible night thief of babies, stole Gabrielle . . . → Read More: Disposable People

Pain Runs Through My Veins

I’ve been staring at the computer screen for a long time. Two hours, in fact, which surprises me because I am not a do-nothinger. I waste time, do things that don’t matter, lose myself in useless pursuits, but I never do nothing.

Today, though, I’m staring. Thinking.

I want to write about Jacob and . . . → Read More: Pain Runs Through My Veins

Navigating the Storm

Advice? I’ve had my fill of the stuff. We parents of kids with emotional and behavioral differences are like advice repositories, the place where people dump all their fears and their conviction that anything (everything!) can be cured with a simple twist of behavior or diet.

In general? I don’t like advice.

However, there . . . → Read More: Navigating the Storm

If the Diagnosis Was Cancer…

If the diagnosis was cancer instead of a mental illness:

No one would tell me I could control my child’s symptoms with harsh discipline.

People wouldn’t say I’m “making” him sick because I somehow, perversely, need that.

There would be enough doctors to meet his needs.*

We would never wait weeks or months for life-saving . . . → Read More: If the Diagnosis Was Cancer…

Watch your mouth!

I’ve been all over the internet in the past hour, reading what other people have written about psychiatric terms used as slurs, insults, or jokes, and then I read comments. Many hundreds of comments.

People have strong feelings on this matter. And by strong I mean violent. I’m stunned by the vitriol out there . . . → Read More: Watch your mouth!

AnonyBlogger: A Brother’s Torment

This story, while tragic, is all too common. Very often, mental illness and drug addiction grow together like mutually-feeding parasites, compounding problems and confounding treatment.

It’s understandable, of course. The anguish of mental illness is indescribable and when people find a way to make pain stop, they will usually use it. If mental illness . . . → Read More: AnonyBlogger: A Brother’s Torment

On (not) Getting a Diagnosis

When Carter was brand new and cried all day and night, we thought at first that he had unusually severe colic. We’d been blessed first with three easy babies; the bill had finally come due.

But he was not a regular baby who cried a lot. He also hardly slept; he didn’t interact with . . . → Read More: On (not) Getting a Diagnosis

Dead On Purpose

On Saturday, October 27, 1979, I knew a few things: my little sister’s blonde pony tails were prettier than my brown ones; my favorite TV show, Little House on the Prairie, came on every Monday evening at 7:00; my third grade teacher’s breath smelled like tuna fish; and bad things didn’t happen in my . . . → Read More: Dead On Purpose

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