It's The End of The Month As We Know It

It’s the last day of HAWMC! Congratulations, you completed 30 days of writing! Take this last post to reflect on your health advocacy journey and set a goal for the next year. Perhaps you want to try a new platform for your activism, attend a patient summit, or start a podcast. Remember, “Set your goals high, and don't stop till you get there.”

Guys, I did it! I completed HAWMC! I did skip 3 days, but those were intentional, as they felt like things I'd just recently written about, or that didn't particularly apply to me at the moment. Or, in the case of yesterday's, I've just not had a ton of chance to read others' post enough to pick one (sorry, that makes me a bad HA I know). But considering that this month held more work hours than normal, the Thanksgiving holiday, and stomach-virus-ageddon, I'm pretty proud of myself. 

My goals for next year? Well, I do want to attend a patient summit and/or conference for HAs. That's pretty high on my list. I also want to make sure to raise the necessary funds and complete my fourth Overnight Walk next June.  

My biggest goal, however, is a project that I've just recently begun promoting called the Spread Hope Project (link to initial Instagram post here). The project idea bloomed from a shirt I own that says the word "Hope" across the front, which I bought at an  event but have seen nowhere else on the organization's website or elsewhere. I loved the message of hope and thought, "How great would it be to get a picture with a shirt that says 'HOPE' in as many different locations and with as many different people as possible." Literally, spreading Hope to as many places and people as I can. I broadcasted this on social media, and people started volunteering themselves or their locations/cities/etc for pictures. A friend then suggested making my own "hope" type shirts (not the same, but with the same message) and donating the money to mental health and suicide prevention charities. This idea merged with a similar one that had already been brewing in my head, and the Spread Hope Project was born. I have more ideas, longer range goals down the road, but for now, I'm focusing on getting out there and getting pictures with people and places, and eventually developing Spread Hope shirts (not the same as the original, but with my own logo) so that others can Spread Hope as well.  (CYA: I know there are trademark/etc processes involved in creating my own design here and I'm on it). 

And so, my call to action is this: If you are interested in being in a Spread Hope picture, or think that your location would make a great backdrop, let me know! Additionally, if you are a business or organization, especially in the Philly/South Jersey area, and would like a picture in your location and a tag on social media, reach out! As the rest of the plan becomes more concrete, I'll undoubtedly be posting more on this. But for now, you can follow along on my personal Instagram and twitter, as well as with the hashtags #spreadhope #spreadhopeproject #spreadhopestopstigma and #spreadhopesavelives. Let's get those pictures rolling!

TBT: A Favorite Previous Blog (About Dogs)

HAWMC Day 17:  Throwback Thursday! Grab a post from your  archives and repost it! Add a few sentences at the  beginning to frame it. Why you chose it. Why you liked it. And why it should be shared again.

I decided to repost this for several reasons. First, tomorrow would have been Cinn's 12th birthday. I lost her on August 18, 2015 after several months of her battling a mysterious illness. Coincidentally, today is my current dog Grace's first day of doggy daycare/dog school. So between these two, I naturally decided to post about dogs. Plus, as I reflect back on Cinn's simple pleasures, and watched Grace literally jump for joy just at being in a room that other dogs would be in when they arrived (she was the first one there, intentionally), I realize how sometimes, they really have it right. 

Originally posted August 22, 2012 and titled A Dog's Life. 

Ever looked at your pet and thought: man, they have it made! It's kind of true - minus the fact that every meal is a form of lamb an rice kibbel (and celery and carrots if you're on a diet like Cinn), and that someone else dictates when you're allowed to go to the bathroom without getting in trouble, a dog's life in a lovig home isn't too bad.

While humans are the more "evolved" species (I'm using this as a general term, not as in getting into the big bang/evolution debate here!), dogs enjoy the simple pleasures in life while we're severely anxious over something that may or may not happen, which may or may not result in something that would upsets us. For dogs, a toy, a treat, a walk outside to the park, or a ride in the car with their ears flapping in the breeze can make their afternoon.  I mean, I do like sticking my head out the window an feeling the breeze, but I can't say that it's usually such a joy that, when someone mentions a car ride, I jump up and down like I've won the lottery.

Enjoying the car ride back from Cape Cod!

Pets are able to enjoy life as much as they do because they (presumably - I'm not an expert on animal thinking) lack much of the anticipatory impulse that we have. Cinn hates her bath, and yet she literally does not start getting worried until we've not only gotten to PetSmart, but we've gone inside and closed the door behind us in the grooming department. She's not worried for days beforehand, thinking "oh man I hate this bath, this is going to be awful. I hope I don't get so scared that I poop on the grooming table again, that was so embarrassing!" Nope, she's completely unaware until we get right into the offending room.  On the other, we sometimes worry for days about an unpleasant situation coming up. So much so that often the anticipation is worse than the actual event.

Cinn post bath with bows in her hair. 

What dogs really want, in the end, is to be loved and taken care of (and occasional snacks). Cinn's never happier than when she's laying by me, being petted or just close. When she's scared, she becomes my shadow. I comfort her even more than food, and that's saying something because, if you didn't know, my dog is apparently obese. I think many humans also have this ultimate goal of love over everything else, but we're so wrapped up in the day to day worries that we forget to enjoy the small moments - a hug, a walk outdoors, a nice meal or snack, quality time with those we love. So next time you're stressed out, having a tough day, or feeling bad about life, take a glimpse at your pet and maybe try to take a lesson from them. Unless they're scared and pooping on the table.

Cinn's report card after rolling in crap and going for an "emergency" bath.

Interested In Becoming a Health Activist? Some Tips to Get You Started

Wisdom Wednesday: What advice do you have for health activists just starting out? Share your words of wisdom for all the health activist rookies out there!

Let me first start off by saying I wouldn't call what I have to offer wisdom. I'd call it tips that have worked for me, or things that I struggled with that I'm now figuring out, that I hope help anyone interested in becoming a health activist. 

• Start as small as you'd like. You don't have to be marching on Washington to debate legislation or writing a blog with off the charts viewership overnight. Of course, if you'd like your first bit of activism to be marching on Washington, then go for it. But don't feel it has to be. If the only person that reads your first five posts is your best friend, that's OK. You've gotten yourself started. 

• Choose the type of activism that's right for you. This may take some trial and error. Some people love blogging. Some would prefer to tweet. Others would rather start a Facebook page or group. Still others shine with Instagram photos. Or maybe it's not social media based. Maybe you write letters to your local legislator, or you organize fundraising events, or get involved with a local non-profit chapter that benefits your cause. There are so many opportunities. You may love one or some or all of them. And it may take a while to find your niche. Pick not only what you feel good at, but what you love. Because the heart of activism is passion. Period.  

• Be yourself. I can't stress this enough. People aren't looking for perfect. They're not looking for cliches or all-smiles-all-the-time cheer leading. Nobody's perfect and so we can't relate to perfect. Be you, flaws and all. People would rather know if you're still struggling but managing to stay afloat. It gives them hope that even in their worst struggles, they too can stay afloat. It makes them feel like they could reach out if they needed and you'd understand. Like they can connect with you.

• Be approachable. Activism is, ultimately, about helping people. Yes, it can be about changing legislation and erasing stigma and educating people. But ultimately the reason behind all of that is to help people. People like you. People who can understand why you got involved in activism, because they go through it too. Hollywood has enough untouchable celebrities. Those struggling need someone that they feel they could reach out to and say "Thank you for sharing that. Can I ask you a question? Can I share something with you." It makes them feel not so alone. Which, to me at least, is one of the ultimate goals of what I do.   

• Don't judge. You have your opinion and experiences. But it's just that - your opinion, your experiences. Those of us with illness feel judged and stigmatized enough. To have an advocate do this, someone they felt they could relate to or even look up to, is awful.  The number one place I see this is in relation to medication, but I've seen it on the topic of having children vs not (i.e if  you have a genetic disease), of techniques to use when struggling, and more. You can have your opinion, and you're welcome to share your opinion. But remember that ultimately, what you're an expert in is you, and your experience - just as everyone else is the most knowledgeable about themselves and their experiences. 

• Keep plugging along. I know what it feels like to write or tweet or post your heart out, to share deep, dark, gut-wrenching information about yourself, only to have zero people comment and only your blood relatives read it.  But I'll share something with you that I wish I would remind myself more - they're not the only ones reading your posts, and they're not the only people that you're helping. Many people, I think especially when it comes to mental health, aren't as  comfortable talking about their condition and struggles as you might be. It doesn't meant they aren't listening (reading). It just means they're not ready to tell you that they are. Because they feel that bursts wide open a secret that they've been keeping. And whatever their reason, they may not be ready to fully acknowledge that, even to themselves. But keep going. I'm amazed at the people who have contacted me - people I'd NEVER have expected - who tell me they read my posts and find it so helpful because they go through the same thing. They may never comment or share or retweet or publicly acknowledge it, but it's helping them. And that makes all the difference. 

• Ask for help. There's no shame in reaching out to other activists to ask how they got things going, or how they accomplished a goal that you're hoping to. There's also no shame in reaching out to friends and family and saying, "I'm starting this blog/page/twitter handle/etc, and I'd really appreciate it if you'd sign up/like/follow." We don't magically get started and have a massive following (I still don't, after years!). We too most likely begun with the only five followers, all being relatives or good friends. We may well have asked them to sign up/follow/like." That's 100 percent OK. A starting point is a starting point. You have to start somewhere! 

I hope these help a little. I am always, always happy to answer questions for anyone interested in becoming a health activist, whether for mental health or another illness. So please, feel free to reach out. And best of luck with you work. Thank you so very much for what you're doing. It means more to people than you may ever realize. 

Case of the Mondays

HAWMC Day 14:  Case of the Mondays. Write about something that gets you down, burns you out, or makes you sad.  Purge it in a blog post. Turn it around at the end and tell Tuesday why you’re ready for it.

I feel like this is kind of a trick question for mood cyclers. Because naturally, the answer is depression. The definition of the condition is pretty much that it makes you feel all of these things, just on a much, much larger scale. And quite frankly, I'm never really ready for it. But that would be kind of a cop out, and the shortest post ever. So I'll make my answer a little more robust. 

What gets me really burns me out is the wide gap because my goals and dreams, and feeling unable to get there because of depression and anxiety. For someone who battles these, I'm a dreamer. I get all of these ideas about how I want to shape my career, my life, my advocacy work. I create plans (albeit not always full, in depth business plan type of plans, but still plans). I brain storm and make lists, actions items. I recently bought a Freedom Journal to help me move towards my dreams step by step - to make it feel more manageable. And I was super gung ho on it, doing really well. Until I had a couple of bad days. Then, I not only fell off the wagon, but I landed in a different county. 

Because my depression and anxiety seriously f-'s up my confidence and self esteem, one small snag in the plan totally destroys it, and me. If I try to take the steps I have outlined and get no traction, I go into full "I can't ever do this" mode, time and again. Part of it, I think, is that I'm honest with myself in knowing my weaknesses, and when I'm faced with a task that involves these, one disappointment is enough to derail me. Like I'll create a fundraising event, or I'll reach out about an idea that I want to move forward, and I ask my friends to participate. And I get one or two half-hearted maybes. The rest either "like" it and never take action, or don't even acknowledge it (friends "liking" and moving right along, by the way - HUGE pet peeve. That could be a whole 'what burns you out' post in and of itself). This happens, and I give up. 

If I'm honest, though, I think it stems from a bigger issue, that gets me down even more. That issue is figuring out exactly what the hell I want to do with my life. I have a general gist, but my brain likes to tell me I can't do that, or it won't work out, or for some reason it's not acceptable/feasible/etc. So I try to move towards ideas that touch on that concept, but seem more acceptable/feasible/etc. But my heart isn't fully in them. Or maybe it could be eventually, but right now, it's not my passion. And I'm a person that needs to be 150% all in or out. I don't do well with doing things that aren't my passion (not counting "life things" like chores and grocery shopping, though I'm not good at those either). So I guess, what's really getting me down is not knowing exactly what I want to do with my life, and feeling alone in both that decision and in making it happen when I do decide. I am an introvert that likes my alone time, and I definitely like to do things my way (i.e. Maya and being told what to do/being controlled by other circumstances or people don't mix well), but I also don't love doing it all on my own. I know the pieces that are toughest for me, and I would like help with those. Or just someone to have my back, to help when I'm burnt out or my conditions make me not unable to move or whatever it is. Or another brain to give ideas when I get stuck and unmotivated. Not just to tell me what to do or give me tips (or cliches, god no cliches), but to actually participate. Just knowing I don't have to do it ALL alone would be so helpful. 

And so I've rambled. But we all know not to tell someone with thought patterns that look like a bowl of spaghetti to purge if you mind them rambling. I do feel a little better putting it out there, though. So thank you for listening. Until tomorrow, HAWMCers. 

A Letter To Myself On the Day I Was Diagnosed

HAMC Day 4:  Do you remember the day you were diagnosed?  Perhaps you were scared, felt alone and surely you had tons of questions. Write a letter to yourself for the day you were diagnosed, knowing all you do now.

Dear Maya, 

I know this day is a mixture of virtually every possible emotion. I know that right now you are both relieved that you finally can put a name to what's been happening, and scared of what that means for your future. I know you aren't completely surprised by your diagnosis, and at the same time frustrated as hell that every other health professional you've seen for the past eleven years ignored you when you told them that you were battling more than just situational stress. 

I know you have a lot of questions. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but those questions don't end. Every time one is answered, another is presented. Each time it seems like you understand your diagnosis and how it affects your brain, your emotions, and your body, it'll throw you a curve ball.  I'm sad to say that I don't have all the answers. I'm still figuring them out myself. As you'll come to understand, maybe already have begun to from experience, mood cycling by nature is unpredictable. Depression might present itself one way one month, and a completely different way the next. Hypomania may mean being extra productive one week and completely distracted to the point of utter frustration the next. Some cycles will last a two weeks and some will last two hours. They say the only thing constant is change. Whoever "they" are, boy are they right. 

Be prepared for the meds. They're doozies. The dizziness, the nausea, the disorientation, the numb lips and tongue. But it gets better. You get to used to them. Of course, each time you do, the dose increases until you reach your proper daily does, but eventually, I promise it doesn't feel so crappy. Most days, you'll take your meds as nonchalantly as you brush your teeth. Trust me on this one and stick them out. Therapy too. Keep going. It'll be well worth your while (and money - by the way, start saving up for those costs now). 

There's good news too. Life will settle down. You'll always cycle, but you'll learn to live with this illness. You'll learn to use it as an opportunity to help others. You'll discover pieces of yourself that you never knew - creative, artistic pieces that help you express your emotions when it seems you can do so no other way. And believe it or not, this illness will help you learn who to keep in your life, and who to separate yourself from. Not everyone will accept your diagnosis easily, but more people than you think will understand. In fact, you'll find understanding and empathy in people you never imagined went through similar struggles. 

You have a long road ahead. I know it's confusing. There are so many facets to consider now that you have a starting point in knowing your diagnosis. Take them one at a time. Focus on the most crucial first. Learn everything you can. Arm yourself with information from trusted and unbiased sources. Ask questions. Build a support network. Create a plan of action and go from there. You will battle this for the rest of your life. Some days will be worse or better than others, but it will always be there, lurking in the background, even when you can't feel it directly in the moment.  And some days, weeks, months even will really suck. But you will get through it. When you're not sure how you can possibly keep going, just remember to put one foot in front of the other. You'll be ok. 

Be Yourself

HAWMC Day 3:  Quotation Inspiration. Find a quote that inspires you (either positively or negatively) and free write  about it for 15 minutes.

I love quotes. Inspiring ones, silly ones, smartassy ones. But if I had to pick just one, it would be this incredibly simple one by Charles M Schultz.

"Be Yourself. No one can say you're doing it wrong." 

Why? Well, quite frankly, I'm different. I always have been. I grew up knowing I was different, though not knowing how. Occasionally it bothered me. Most of the time I didn't think much of it. But as I got older, I thought more and more of it. I realized how different I was in so many ways. And the more I noticed it, the more it bothered me. I asked myself why I was so different. For all that I knew it, I couldn't really place my finger on it. The more this eluded me, the more angst it caused me. It was a self-perpetuating cycle. One that threw me occasionally into pretty dark places. 

As my condition started to become more evident to those around me (it was always evident on some level to me), they noticed it to. I faced a lot of "Why can't you just be normal" comments. A lot of, "Normal people aren't like that. Normal people don't think that way or feel that way or act that way. You're (crazy/delusional/irrational/pick you're stigmatizing descriptive). For a long time, even after I was diagnosed, I tried to defend myself, telling they were wrong, I was normal, even with this illness. I tried to explain my words, feelings, actions and why people should find them acceptable.  I tried and tried to justify them to people who didn't want to hear it. People who'd already passed judgement on me for one reason or another. I watched it in numerous aspects of my life and I rallied against it time and again. And then finally, I stopped. 

I'm not sure exactly when or how it happened. But one day, I realized I was able to take a less negatively biased look at myself and my life. I thought about the people who told me that my blogging and advocacy inspired them and made them feel supported. I thought about the friends who laughed at my quirky humor and awkward but apparently endearing antics. I replayed all the conversations I'd had with others close to me in which we could completely relate to each other, in which I realized what they liked about my was my differences. And I stopped caring so much. The veneer of needing to fit into a mold began to crack.

I won't be so brave as to say I never care. I won't claim that I absolutely love having a mental health condition and I'd never, ever hope to be "normal." Because quite honestly that's BS. At least as it relates to me. There are times that I wish I reacted to individual situations more normally. Like not feeling like I'm going to piss my pants out of fear every time I have to interact in a group setting. Or not breaking down crying out of nowhere in the middle of walking my dog or watching tv or cooking dinner. Or not having an anxiety attack while parallel parking, as I posted about the other day. There are times that it is still maddeningly frustrating when a way of looking at something is so obvious to me, and yet the person I'm talking to can't possibly see it. It's like me pointing at the sky and saying "It's blue," and them saying "No it's bright green. Why can't you see that?" Because life does feel that way sometimes. 

But I've learned to embrace my differences more fully. I've learned that I'm a creative person, and that I often express myself best through writing or vision boarding or dance or even just doodling (because what I do could not possibly be considered drawing or art - not even modern art).  I've learned that I see life in pictures, in snapshots instead of in a step by step manner. I can now explain this to people who don't see how I'm approaching a situation. It doesn't always work, but at least I can offer an explanation to bridge some of the gap. I've learned that in the right company, I can share my completely random thoughts and they'll be appreciated (like the recent time I told my boyfriend out of the blue that if our dog had a creative art it would be interpretive dance).  And so I now surround myself with only the right company (when I have any control of the company, that is). 

In the end of the day, I may not have a lot of talents or enviable skill sets. But I've become significantly more comfortable with being myself. And in fact, I've decided that's a pretty valuable skill to have. Because after all, it's one of the very few things in life that you can't do wrong. 

I Write My Best Blogs in the Shower

Day 2 of HAWMC.  Today's prompt:

Every great writer has their own process! What's the blogging process look like for you? Do you set aside time each week to write or do you wait until the inspiration hits? Do you finish a post in one night or use the week to perfect it? Do you edit your blogs or just hit publish? Whatever it is you do, it’s unique to you and we want to learn about it.

Usually, my posts come to me at some incredibly inopportune time - middle of the night, in the shower, while driving, in the middle of a meeting. If I force myself to sit down and write without any type of prompt or motivation, it ends up the blog equivalent of a bad stick figure drawing (if you've ever seen me draw a stick figure you understand how just bad that is). So when inspiration strikes, I write it down, anywhere and anyhow I can. I have sticky notes by my bed for ideas that come to me in the middle of the night (though admittedly those notes are sometimes illegible in the morning). I have a list of potential blog topics on Evernote. I have notepads on my desk, in my laptop bag. If I'm traveling, I often carry a mini notepad in my purse, to jot down ideas on the road. If my laptop is handy when an idea comes to me and I have only a few minutes, I'll open up my blog and jot down just a few lines to start a post, knowing I'll have to come back to it later but wanting to get the ball rolling.

"Action shot" of me writing (future blog) at 5:30 AM last Saturday

In cases such as HAWMC, where I have prompts, it's a bit easier. I don't have to "come up with content out of thin air", so to speak. But because my blog is so emotionally fueled and focused, and because my emotions can be so unreliable, I can't just force myself to write at a set time on a set day without fail.  (Disclaimer: sometimes I write several of these challenge posts at once when I'm feeling motivated. I call that "finding creative solutions.")  I do try to set aside times to write each week, but those are pretty flexible and vary from week to week. They have to be, because I might literally not be in the mood to write at the set time. 

On the flip side, there are times that I could write for hours, particularly during intense emotional cycles. I occasionally try to share what it's like in the middle of a hypomanic episode or bad bout of depression, because I feel it's the closest way for people to actually understand what I'm battling. They may not have experienced it themselves, but me writing when I'm in the throws of it, it's kind of the writer's equivalent to Facebook live or Periscope or whatever your preferred "live" medium may be.  The nature of my cycling is such that, once I cycle out, it almost feels like it happened ages ago, and I find it significantly more difficult to describe in depth. It feels like I'm telling a story, instead of a personal account. If I write during, I'm much better able to explain in detail, in a way people can visualize, even possibly feel. That said, if I know I'm in a really, really bad state, I try to give it a day or so before I post. I don't want to raise any cause for alarm, if none is actually needed. 

Despite my lack of any real plan, there are few rules that I try to set for myself: 

• Proofread. I sometimes type (and talk) faster than my brain fully computes. If I don't proofread, there could be a lot of jumbled up mess in my posts. Or rather, more than there already is. 

• Don't post ragingly angry. Post kind of angry, but not ragingly so, especially if the anger is primarily directed at one person or situation. Anger is an important part of mental health and not one a lot of people like to talk about. So I think it's important to post from that viewpoint so that, as described above, people get a "real time" insight. I also know, though, that my anger can be fueled by anxiety, panic, and hypomania, and that this multiplies it, making me significantly more upset about things than I otherwise would be. I don't want to emotionally hurt anyone by letting this take over in a blog post, so even if I write, I try to hold off and see if I still feel that way a little while later, or if I've "simmered down" a bit. I've written a lot of drafts that, if posted, would have resulted in some serious foot-in-mouth syndrome later on.  And if I am angry, I never, ever mention personal names (assuming it's someone in my personal life I'm angry at). Ever. 

• Don't overthink it. I proofread, and I make sure any facts that I've stated as facts are as accurate and updated as possible, but I try not to re-read sentences for hours, wondering if it sounds ok, if it makes perfect sense, what everyone will think of it, etc. As long as it's somewhat sensical, and it's not going to lose me friends or my job, it doesn't have to sound perfect. My brain is a beautifully, weirdly, messy place. My blog reflects that. Intentionally. 

• I post for me, but I hope that it helps others. Writing in general, and therefore blogging, is therapeutic to me. I was always a writer. As a child, adolescent, teen, young adult, I journaled. I still do (on pen and paper, in addition to my blog). So sometimes, I write just to "get things out". Sometimes, I end up not posting those pieces. Just writing it has done it's job, and I realize I don't want to, for whatever reason, post those. But when I feel that others may go through the same thing, that it could help them or inspire them in some way or simply let them know that they're not alone, I post. So I write for me, but I do so in hopes that it will also help others. 

These are by no means a "recipe" for writing a mental health or chronic illness or any blog. In fact, I pretty much spent the last x number of paragraphs saying, "I really don't have a process, I just throw spaghetti at the wall and see if it sticks." But I guess that's kind of the point. I have my ways that work for me, but they're fluid. And you may have a great process that works for you. But if you don't, that's ok too. If you want to write, write. There's no perfect formula. That's the beauty of a personal blog - it's as unique as of each us, our conditions, and our journeys. My stickies in the middle of the night and mentally writing blogs in the shower is what works for me - and I'm completely ok with that. And when you find what works for you, run with it, even if it's equally as weird a process. 

Why Do I Blog About My Illness?

Happy November! November, for those who don't know, is National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), which every year I say I'm going to participate in and every year I sadly do not. But lucky for me, there's another writing challenge this month that I'm much more likely to stick to, at least on a somewhat regular basis, and that is the Health Activists Writers Month Challenge (HAWMC), hosted by WEGO Health.  I'll be blogging daily based on daily prompts, so posts will probably be nice and random - just like I like them.

Day 1:  Why do you blog? 

For nearly the first almost three decades of my life, I thought that I was allergic to red food dye. That was my diagnosis, at the age of two, when I started having "episodes".  The doctor told my parents that the red food dye in the cereal I'd eaten (I want to say Captain Crunch but I may be wrong here) made me "hyper", and I was to avoid red food dye. I spent the next 28 years doing just that - admittedly, not a tough feat, unless you count the cherries in Old Fashioneds and Manhattans. But though the "episodes" calmed down for a long stretch of time, in part due to intense gymnastics training that helped with a lot of the extra "energy", in part writing them off as just being an aspect of my general personality, they didn't stop. They started back noticeably when I was in my early twenties and got increasingly worse, to the point that I'd have someone (my then-husband) hold my arms and legs so I could punch and kick the air to release all of the pent up "energy", for lack of a better word. In between these episodes, went through periods of feeling lost to myself, which grew in frequency. Finally, weeks before my thirtieth birthday, I was admitted to the ER with what I thought were horrendous panic attacks that wouldn't go away. Long story short, I was hospitalized, and upon going back to my therapist afterwards, was diagnosed with rapid cycling cyclothymia, a rare mood cycling disorder.  It was this that had actually sent me to the ER.

I had never heard of cyclothymia, and as it turns out, neither have a lot of people - even medical professionals. It's that rare - something like 0.04% of the population is diagnosed. I noticed that there was very little information accessible to the general public about my condition, yet there seems to be a massive amount of stigma. I realized that people don't have to know anything about your condition in order to begin stigmatizing, especially when it comes to mental health. To so many people, it's all the same. In fact, it's the lack of information, and the education, that feeds so much stigma. And so I set out to do my part in righting that. To tell my story, so that others have first hand accounts of what my illness is like, and to offer support to those who also battle, or feel that they may.

What do I want people to know about my condition?

• It is not bipolar disorder. Often I have to choose that from the little drop-down box of illnesses on online forms with health history, but it is a distinct condition of its own, that shares many similarities with Bipolar Disorder. 

• I cycle between hypomania and depressive episodes, sometimes as often as several times a day. While many people battle more depression, I battle more hypomania - which is not as fun as it sounds. Hypomania, I often tell people, feels like drinking an entire pot of coffee at once on an empty stomach and then trying to go about your average daily routine. You feel jittery, irritated, unable to focus or concentrate. It's in fact very frustrating. 

• I'm not always cycling. Sometimes I'm neither hypomanic or depressed - many times, in fact. Nor do I cycle mid-sentence, like the media would have you believe. I slowly begin to feel the warning signs, which generally only I can feel, and it begins to gradually transition. Again, using the coffee example, the first cup is probably ok, the second cup may make you a bit extra energized, by the time you've finished the pot, the effects are full-fledged. 

• I battle anxiety because of my condition. I've developed social anxiety, phone anxiety. This is not uncommon. 

• I can do "normal" things and have a "normal" life. I run my own business, work part time at a conference center, own a home and a dog, am in a committed relationship, and have been on several volunteer board of directors. I've also traveled to six continents and over 40 countries. 

• Not everything I do or say or react to is because of my condition. Sometimes, I'm happy or sad or emotional or annoyed or angry at something just as anyone else would be. 

• My condition does not make me weak. Just because I'm depressed or crying or feeling worthless or hopeless does not make me weak. I, and others with similar conditions, have to be incredibly strong just to get through some days. 

• I will always have this illness. It is genetic.  I was born with it, and I will have it for the rest of my life. I can't "get over it".  It just gets better or worse. I've accepted this. Please do so as well and stop waiting for me to "snap out of it." 

• I'm not lazy or over-reactive or not trying to hard or dramatic. I can't just relax or calm down. I can't just think positive thoughts or smile or be grateful. 

• Sometimes the best thing I can do is rest. I need that time mentally and physically. Sleep is critical for mood cycling, and my condition is very draining. Doing every day tasks can feel insurmountable at times. 

In addition to Cyclothymia, I also battle Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, "severe" (doctor description) IBS, vertigo, and various forms of frequent migraines. While I don't discuss these often, I do occassionally post about them, especially as they intertwine with my mental health. 

Leaving On A Jet Plane

#HAWMC Day 20:  If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go and why? Maybe you’ve already traveled to an exciting place and want to go back. We know travelling with a chronic illness can be challenging, so any tips for others that you can share would be great!

I feel like I'm cheating a little on this one, because I run a travel planning company. Travel is, more or less my life. People always ask me my favorite place, and I find this question extremely difficult. My "favorite" depends on what I'm looking for - a city escape, time with nature, lying beach with a fruity drink in my hand, exploring an exotic or unique landscape. But if someone said they could teleport me to somewhere right this minute, I'd choose Paris. 

I've been to Paris twice, once as recently as this past November. The first time I visited, about eight years ago, I wasn't excited. I was new to the travel industry, and I had not heard very positive things about Paris. We all know the stereotype - they're rude, they hate Americans, etc. I had a conference in Lyon and I thought, "I'm so close. I work in the travel industry now. How can I not go to Paris just to see what it's like." I fell in love. With the city, that is. This past trip only solidified this. 

When I'm in Paris, I feel like I belong. To someone who, in 35 years, as almost never, ever feels like she belongs, this is borderline miraculous. I don't know what it is about the city. Everyone there is chic and fashionable and I am ... not. My french is more or less limited to names of pastries, asking for the toilet, and the word "canelle", as it's French for Cinnamon, which is the name of my dog. (Fun story, I know this because I met the "house dog" of a hotel I was staying at, who was also named Cinnamon). So I'm not sure why I feel such a sense of belonging in this city that so many feel repelled from, and unwanted in, but I do. 

As for traveling with chronic illness, that greatly depends on your illness, of course. First and foremost, meds, meds, meds, meds.  If there's a time difference, you may need to adjust the time of day that you take them to keep on your schedule. Set alarms or ask someone to keep you accountable. Bring a few extra, in case for any reason your return flight is delayed/cancelled/etc and you are there longer than expected. Even many of our over-the-counter meds can't be found overseas, so don't count on running to the drug store to pick them up once you get there. Finally, as a travel planner I cannot stress this enough: DO NOT PACK YOUR MEDS IN YOUR CHECKED LUGGAGE. Or even a carryon that's big enough that it may have to be checked at the gate if they run out of overhead space. I was on a flight with a woman who had put her insulin in a large carry-on that they checked at the gate. Our plane was then grounded for mechanical issues, and the next flight out for her was the next day. She had to stay overnight in a an airport without her insulin because the airline said they "weren't authorized to retrieve her luggage". Understandably, she was freaking out. Just keep them on you. Always. Please. 

Ok, that rant done, - sorry, occupational hazard - a few more things I find helpful: 

• If you need to travel with any medical equipment, make sure that you have the proper written documentation from your doctor. I recently watch a woman kicked off a plane because she didn't have documentation for her oxygen tank. She was about as happy as the insulin lady above (note; also make sure all meds are in the original packaging. Customs doesn't like unidentified pills). 

• When you first arrive, try to adjust to the time zone. If you can make it until about 7 or 8 PM and then go to bed early, it helps to adjust your body to the time difference. 

• Try to keep more or less to regular schedule. If you usually go to bed at 10 and wake up at 7, don't stay up until 2 AM every night and sleep in until noon. Illness doesn't take a vacation (unfortunately) just because we do, and I think for many of us, routine is key. 

• Build in rest time. I'm guilty of being go, go, go when I'm on a trip because I don't want to miss anything. I've learned I have to build in a day or two to relax - go to the hotel spa, order room service, or at least do something less physically strenuous to give myself a break. 

• Alcohol. If you have an illness that is affected badly by alcohol, it's still affected badly by alcohol when you're on vacation. This is a sad but true fact. 

• If you have food allergies or sensitivities, try to learn the words for these foods in the local language before you go, so that you can at least attempt to ask about them. The same is ideal for your condition, though I'm nearly certain that cyclothymia doesn't translate into other languages, and I suspect many chronic illness sufferers are in the same boat.

• Other countries seem to have a different idea of a food "containing something" - as in, it doesn't contain it if it's not the main ingredient. While I hate to advise being a finicky traveler, sometimes it's too important not to be. 

Ok, I think that's it. As I said, travel is kind of my life, so I apologize for the particularly long post! Wherever this prompt takes you, I hope that you have a fabulous time!