#52 Essays: What Are The Odds?

To the other Black woman in the room with my diagnosis. To shedding the "strong Black woman" image for 20 minutes to be real with each other. To everyone in the daily fight to live or (if desired) die with dignity. To surviving. To dying. To us who walk that fine line everyday. To those who truly get it and support us. #mentalhealth #invisibledisabilities

Not Where I’m Supposed to Be: Depression and Turning 38

I don't get sick often. A week ago I was in the hospital for four days.  And this wasn't like getting sick with the flu or something. I had severe kidney distress. This was not particularly new because I've always had kidney stones. Since I was 16, really. What was new with this trip was … Continue reading Not Where I’m Supposed to Be: Depression and Turning 38

Summer Plans Anyone?

My summer has officially begun! I know it's technically 3 more weeks before the official proclamation but mine has begun. I'm perched carefully on a makeshift bean-bag on my small porch. I've got Hezekiah Walker and CeCe Winans and Yolanda Adams praising in the background. I've decided to write something everyday for my summer beginning today, the … Continue reading Summer Plans Anyone?

Leaving the Seclusion Room: A Journey to the Far Side of Sanity and Back Again

May is National Mental Health Awareness Month y’all. Help stop the stigma!

Kathryn M. McCullough

I will forever associate spring with an up-close-and-personal encounter with crazy, with losing my mind in an over-the-top kind of way.   And, indeed, my March Madness of 1990 ended life as I knew it.

Spring brings many forms of madness. Spring brings many forms of madness.

A university writing instructor, I was suffering through what should have been a relaxing spring break, when I began to crumble. In Oklahoma the branches were barely budding, when I started obsessing over trees and their ability to lead me elsewhere, wherever there was. I imagined it was a dimension parallel to the world around me.

A parallel place-- A parallel place–

I wanted desperately to go there, and it was that longing that ached me into action. It muscled me forward, compelling me to bring bare branches indoors and decorate my walls with them. (I kid you not.)  It seemed I was suddenly and acutely aware, as the sculptural quality of those limbs stunned and…

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