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March 5, 2020
By Gabrielle Szynski | Feb. 05, 2020

“One last thing: I congratulate you on your journey of recovery.”

Recover: Verb, to return to a normal state of health, mind or strength. A normal state of mind? Had I really gone back to that? Was I…normal again? I stare at the Facebook message, re-reading each word over and over while enunciating them slowly under my breath. Recovery…recovery… That’s what I thought I was doing. It’s what I tell everyone else when they ask me how I’m doing.

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    By Elizabeth Horner | Feb. 12, 2020

    I am a psychiatric nurse. I work with patients every day who are in the hospital with schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, depression, borderline personality disorder, among other conditions. I do my best to help them put the pieces back together, so they can go home to their families and attempt to function in their lives again. I can relate as I’ve been there myself.

    I have been managing my own bipolar disorder for years now,

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    By Gregory Duncan | Feb. 21, 2020

    For the first few months after my wife’s suicide in August, I was in shock. There were so many details and questions spinning around my head that I didn’t have time to process my emotions. But as November arrived, and the free meals stopped coming, I started to feel the pain and loneliness more. I still tried to process everything, but the emotions crept up on me.

    A few times I got teary-eyed or cried in public,

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    In 2015, I embarked on an academic journey at the University of San Francisco where I completed my master’s degree in nursing and continued on to pursue my doctor of nursing practice degree. This was something I never envisioned for myself as a new-grad nurse.

    I was a quiet child and adolescent prior to nursing school. I survived on intuition and the ability to listen for the sounds of danger, pain, and suffering. They’re skills I continue to hold today as a mental health nurse.

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    By Sarah Marsh | Feb. 07, 2020

    Secrets and lies.

    That’s how I would describe the beginning of my decades-long battle with mental illness. The year was 1996, I was 17 years old, and my life came to a stand-still because of depression, anxiety and an eating disorder. I had no community to call upon, few friends that knew of my struggles.

    Everyone knew something was wrong. I couldn’t keep my outward appearance or drastic personality changes to myself.

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