living with and thriving through mental illness // the brave ones with mary england

The Brave Ones is a series of reader submissions. It is an attempt to share the real, personal stories of real people, in the hopes of showing that we're not alone in the struggles we face.  I believe that the more we listen to the real experiences of other people, the more we come to understand each other and approach one another with compassion.  Today’s guest post is by Mary England who blogs at Uncustomary.

was 8-years-old when I started noticing that I had to scrunch my face up every time I blinked. Eventually, my blinks were very hard, lasting almost a second each. I started squeaking, extending my neck in an exaggerated way, and rolling my eyes down and to the side. I told my classmates that I "had allergies", and I heard my parents talk to their friends and my teachers, saying I was going through "a phase". At my worst I had eight motor and two vocal tics. It was more than a phase.

When I was about 14, I flipped to the back of one of the many teen magazines my mother insisted on subscribing me to. I cut words and photos out of them, after reading the one serious article towards the end of each of them. That day, the article was about Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. As I read, I realized that I did all the things she was describing. All these things were part of my every day life, but here she was saying it was a problem that had to be treated.



Less than a year later, I started getting really depressed and got into self-mutilation. A lot of it had to do with the fact that I was dealing with symptoms of OCD and Tourette's Sydrome without treatment or any real knowledge about how to cope. I was late for things because I would get caught up in rituals before leaving the house. I had to repeat, count, and collect things. There were certain numbers associated with everything I did. I tapped surfaces, needed to touch almost everything, and re-checked doors and electrical devices to ensure they were off. I saw extremely graphic imagery of my friends in very violent scenarios. Everything from bathing to turning out the light at bedtime was an ordeal, but I never told anyone.

Things got pretty bad, and I asked my parents if I could go to therapy. That led to seeing a psychiatrist and getting prescribed my first dose of psychotropic medication. For years I took a couple meds every day, and it was enough to take things down a notch so I could function, but the root of the problem was much deeper, and when I was 22 I decided more had to be done, so I signed up for Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT).

CBT for my OCD was basically exposure therapy. Like how if you're afraid of snakes, first you look at a snake, then you stand in the same room as a snake, and eventually you hold a snake. It was the same thing, except with my anxiety. I would have homework assignments every week that may sound really easy and mundane to anyone else, but sitting in front of open drawers for 45 minutes every day was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. There was a lot of sweat and tears involved, but six months later I "graduated".

Since then, I've done a lot to work on loving myself. I quit my day job (at a psychiatric rehabilitation center) to turn my hobbies into my career, and spend my days doing things I love. I make note of the wonderful thing around me, and embrace what makes me happy even if it's weird or childish. I honestly feel that with the journey I've been on, I can provide insight and help to other people who are at different milestones on their path.



At this point, I've gone from taking the highest dosage of four different medications to the lowest doses of only two. I don't go to therapy anymore, and I'm able to cope with symptoms that arise on my own. I still have four disorders on my official psychiatric face sheet (Panic Disorder and Mood Disorder NOS in addition to the aforementioned two), but sometimes I wonder at what point do I still suffer from these things? If you don't actively receive treatment for something, is it still a thing? It's a loaded question that I don't have the answer to.

What I can tell you, is nothing is impossible. I've overcome things I didn't think were manageable, and I've seen clients, with way more severe mental illnesses than me, make incredible progress at my old job. You can do it, I believe in you.

Thanks so much for sharing, Mary.  If you want to follow Mary, head over to her blog and instagram. Want to share your story?  Here's how to participate:

 Have you experienced something similar, or did this post spark a thought or feeling in you?  Write your own post on your own blog, sharing your experience. Write it quick, don’t overthink it, just spill it all out, it can be pictures if you want, whatever. If you’ve already written one, feel free to link that up, too.

 Include a link in your post back to this post, so your readers can find others writing on the same topic. Feel free to use my photo up there in your post!

 Enter the link to your post (the actual post link, not just your blog link) into the link-up tool thing there below.

 Tell a few people about your post, either through social media or talk about it with a friend over coffee.  Click around and visit a few of the other posts linked up, leave comments for each other, and feel comforted that kindred spirits aren’t as rare as we think!  We're all in this together.  There is strength in numbers

An InLinkz Link-up

changed by miscarriage / the brave ones with casey wiegand

Today the lovely Casey Wiegand is sharing from her heart about coping with loss through miscarriage.  As a woman who hasn't yet experienced motherhood, this is a topic that feels so far outside of my ability to conceptualize, but I know it's something that so many women have gone through, including some of my dear friends.  Casey has talked about it on her blog, and I'm super thankful she's offered to share her story here.  With Mother's Day being this past Sunday, I know it can be a painful time for those mothers who have experienced the loss of a miscarriage.   You're not alone.  

hen you lose something that you love so fiercely and so dearly, it shatters all of you. And when you slowly glue the pieces back together one by one, piece by piece.... then, when you are finally put back together... you're different. The scars are a constant reminder of not only what was lost but also what all you have to lose.

You can love differently. Better.
Because you know it's fragile.

Life. It's a gift.
A gift to be cherished, celebrated, adored

5 little "A's" still hang from my husband's necklace. A daily reminder that we have 5 precious babies.
Two who didn't walk here along side of me, but those two that forever changed my life.
A brief life yet so much meaning.

I often get asked about how my pregnancy with Apple was after our first loss. It was terrifying, it was different. With my first two kiddos I had a clueless confidence, I didn't realize the fragility of what I had...how it could be gone in an instant with no warning signs. I was glowing and beaming and never for a second thought about anything going wrong before our loss. But with Apple, I carried that. Every sonogram my knees shook in the waiting room, my prayers poured out at night to protect her and keep her with us. I fought fear until the moment she was in my arms.



Not only was Apple our rainbow baby but also a sweet symbol of Hope for me.

A new humility and sensitivity entered my spirit when it came to this subject. As someone before who hadn't known the struggles of infertility or loss- I didn't notice what I notice now.

"If you haven't already gathered, or happen to be reading this blog for the first time in your life, I am a melancholy girl through and through. I find beauty in not only the beautiful things in life, but the bittersweet and sad as well. To me, there is something poignantly lovely about the human experience from its splendor to its grief. God created all our emotions, not just the happy ones, and for His good purposes. That's why a good cry can feel so good. And hitting our limits forces us to look outside ourselves for a Savior. It is in the plea, when we're at our end, that we can find that which is truly life-giving. Personally, my moments of deepest grief, deepest pain, have resulted in the most beautiful seasons in my heart. I've met God more intimately in those moments than in all the other pleasant ones combined. What isn't completely lovely about that?" - Leslie from Top of the Page

The thing about heartache is...it changes your perspective on life.
It makes you softer (if you let it), it makes you more understanding (if you let it), it makes you love bigger and makes you more available to relate to others who share in hurt.

I will forever be changed by loss.


Thanks so much for sharing, Casey.  If you want to follow along with Casey's amazing family, head over to her blog and instagram.  Casey actually wrote this post for me a few months ago when I was still gathering posts to start this series, and since then she's experienced another loss, so for those of you who follow Casey's blog, that's why the numbers are off in the 4th paragraph.  Much love to Casey and her beautiful family.

Want to share your story?  Here's how to participate:

 Have you experienced something similar, or did this post spark a thought or feeling in you?  Write your own post on your own blog, sharing your experience. Write it quick, don’t overthink it, just spill it all out, it can be pictures if you want, whatever. If you’ve already written one, feel free to link that up, too.

 Include a link in your post back to this post, so your readers can find others writing on the same topic. Feel free to use my photo up there in your post!

 Enter the link to your post (the actual post link, not just your blog link) into the link-up tool thing there below.

 Tell a few people about your post, either through social media or talk about it with a friend over coffee.  Click around and visit a few of the other posts linked up, leave comments for each other, and feel comforted that kindred spirits aren’t as rare as we think!  We're all in this together.  There is strength in numbers!

An InLinkz Link-up

why i'm excited about turning 34 / the brave ones with megan silianoff

Something that gets me really inspired is hearing the real life stories of other women.  The real stuff.  Life, love, failure, dreams, disappointment, fear.  I want to hear stories, tell stories, celebrate stories.  Every one of us has so many unique stories, and yet, in every story there is something that each of us can nod our heads to and whisper, "me too, man, me too."  I'm all about that.  Listening to real people's stories makes me feel less alone, it makes me feel like we're all in this together, even if I forget from time to time.  I think that story tellers, especially those who tell very personal and vulnerable stories, are seriously brave humans.  It can be pretty scary to share your truth, and I believe it takes bravery to share your story.  So here's the beginning of a new series on the blog, featuring open and honest guest posts by rad ladies I like to call "The Brave Ones."  First up, an amazing women I had the pleasure of befriending at TxSC CAMP, Megan Silianoff.  Megan is amazing for a myriad of reasons, and if you want to read her story, you should grab a copy of her book, 99 Problems but a Baby Ain't One (Which I devoured in little over one plane flight), and I'll be giving away a signed copy later today! Take it away, Megan!

or a few years now my cousin and I (both 33) have been co-writing a screenplay in our heads titled This is 30. It’s the prologue to Judd Apatow’s This is 40 - a comedy about the various challenges 40 somethings typically face in that specific decade of life.

This is 30 (same concept, different decade) commences with a 33 year old writer-type (me essentially) dry heaving in the sand of Chicago’s Oak Street Beach. I hold a plastic bag in one hand and hide my face with the other as hundreds of beach-goers stare, point, and throw a lot of “hey are you okay?” my way. The camera pans down the beach where we my cousin (a successful career type) watches me, laughs, and attempts to get a pic of this newest phase of my hangover. She can’t get off a decent shot though with the distance between us and the babysitting job I gave her when I ran off and said, “WATCH MY KID. I’M GONNA PUKE!” The point we’re trying to make in this film, and opening scene, is that your 30’s are a very peculiar decade. We’re young enough that weekday hangovers are still on the table but old enough that we can’t stay in bed to ride them out.

The 30’s decade is grueling for a myriad of reasons. It’s a time when there’s no light at the end of the tunnel regarding “the big stuff” in life. Kids for example. Based on the average age of pregnancy, a lot of our offspring are babies or toddlers. Parenting at any age is hard, but parenting tots is PHYSICALLY exhausting in a way that parenting teens is not. (Teens generally aren’t fans of being carried, for example.)

Our 30’s are generally a “make it or break it” time in our careers. Lots of heads-down, putting the time in, setting the foundation, type stuff that’s paving the way for the rest of our professional lives. Job hopping and “gigging” is generally less cute, encouraged, and applauded at this stage in the game. There’s pressure to have figured out what you want to be when you grow up, even though most people, at any age, can’t answer that question.

We have to mention the single ladies scenario as well. If you’re single and ready to mingle in your thirties – panic starts to set in, which is validated by your friends, family, and society in general. No more, “you’re young – have fun” pep talks. Instead, we’re encouraged when we sarcastically joke about freezing our eggs or looking into adoption. “Do it!” they say, “Good for you girl!”


But 30 isn’t all bad. If you’re a glass half-full type of person, you absolutely can make a toast! The exciting news is that we’re generally “on fleek” in terms of our looks ladies! As much as we’re worried about sun damage, gray hair, and post-baby bods, we’re actually in our prime! Take Kourtney Kardashian (and Kim for that matter) as examples. Kourt was “basic” in her 20s but these days she’s often argued to be the best-looking Kardashian! J.Lo and Kelly Ripa are strangely looking better as they age. And sit down for this one. Studies show women are at their sexual prime at thirty-four. Are you writing this down? Thirty-four. You remember how I old I said I was, right?!

Wisdom is said to be the sum of your mistakes or bad experiences in life. We 30 somethings have accumulated infinite wisdom by now. For me personally, that came in the form of ovarian cancer, navigating the domestic adoption process, called off engagements, Homeland killing off Brody, and a bunch of other drama. Like my fellow 30 somethings, I’ve traded some bright-eyed naivety for experience and it feels good. Empowering even.

This is why it’s almost cliché at this point to hear women say 30 was when they finally felt comfortable in their own skin. Take my cousin for example. She didn’t pass the bar exam recently. Despite the obvious disappointment she didn’t have a melt down, plan a suicide, or post cryptic emoticons on Facebook. She knew it wasn’t a reflection of her intelligence (she already has a master degree btw) but simply a result of timing. Two months before the test she met and fell in love with her probably husband and therefore didn’t study as much as she should have. It was a mature and healthy response that she’d NEVER have had in her 20’s. She felt bad about failing the bar but good about her response to it. This is 30.

We don’t know how our screenplay ends yet but we’re brainstorming possibilities for our characters aka ourselves. To me – that’s the very best thing about being a thirty something. The fact that we’re old enough to know better but young enough to still dream a little. We’re not going to be the next American Idol (there’s an age limit) but there’s still a possibility we could “make it” in whatever it is that we do. Kristin Wigg, Bradley Cooper, JK Rowling, Julia Child, and Vera Wang all are encouraging examples of this. At 30 something, we know what’s in the realm of possibility and what’s not. But that gray area in-between? It’s still in play as far as I’m concerned. You may already own a strand of pearls, but the world is still your oyster. This is 30.


Thanks Megan!  Stay tuned because I've got a giveaway coming up later today for a signed copy of Megan's book!

Want to share your story?  Here's how to participate:

 Have you experienced something similar, or did this post spark a thought or feeling in you?  Write your own post on your own blog, sharing your experience. Write it quick, don’t overthink it, just spill it all out, it can be pictures if you want, whatever. If you’ve already written one, feel free to link that up, too.

 Include a link in your post back to this post, so your readers can find others writing on the same topic. Feel free to use my photo up there in your post!

 Enter the link to your post (the actual post link, not just your blog link) into the link-up tool thing there below.

 Tell a few people about your post, either through social media or talk about it with a friend over coffee.  Click around and visit a few of the other posts linked up, leave comments for each other, and feel comforted that kindred spirits aren’t as rare as we think!  We're all in this together.  There is strength in numbers!

An InLinkz Link-up