My Life Is Falling Apart And It’s Not My Fault

If you’re looking for a picture, click here instead.

Part of living with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)–at least for me–is kind of thinking everything is completely my fault, even when I insist outwardly that it’s not. Some of that comes from stigma. I may know I’m in the right, but when people who know I have PTSD treat me like I’m wrong just because I have PTSD, it’s hard not to internalize that.

But this time, it’s actually, undeniably not my fault.

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February 8 Suicide Awareness Collaboration With TreasureLives

Suicide prevention and awareness with Betty's Battleground and TreasureLives

On February 8, 2013 Jonathan Lazarus–a brother to TreasureLives: Mental Health & Suicide Prevention and Awareness founder Melody Nolan–attempted to commit suicide. On February 8, 2016, Betty’s Battleground site author Elizabeth Brico did the same. John and Elizabeth weren’t alone in their actions. According to suicide.org, approximately 2,054 people attempt suicide every single day in the United States. Of these, an average of 82 go on to lose their lives.

Some people like to say that everything happens for a reason, but when it comes to suicide attempts, that line of thinking suggests some lives are more valuable than others. That some people are more deserving of life than others. But there is no “reason” to mental illness and suicide. Life, death and the trappings that come in between are not doled out based on who deserves what.

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Betty’s Battleground Turns One

bettysbattleground.com turns one

Today January 23rd, marks the one year anniversary of my very first post, called Mommy Marching with PTSD, which was all about how and why I overcame my post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms to bring my elder daughter to Womxn’s March on Seattle. Read it if you haven’t yet–it’s quite raw and ranty and fun.

I wish I could commemorate the first year with a post about attending the anniversary protest, which had been the plan, but as it happens Monday was my mother’s birthday, and Saturday–when the march took place this year–was when she decided to have a birthday ge-ttogether. Which turned into a birthday linner, or dunch, or something. In any case. I didn’t go (to the protest, I did see my mom for her birthday). But I saw photos of the turnout, and many pussy hats as I met my mom for her birthday celebration so I’m glad people are still fighting. And I do pledge to keep up the good fight via articles like this  and like this and blog posts like this scripts and fictions you haven’t yet read but will someday (dear magical agent just waiting for me, please materialize and also materialize me some money). And maybe a march or two as well.

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