Published March 1, 2015 by fotojennic


Bipolar Borderline

There comes a time when you know you can’t possibly take anymore. Where you’re 6 feet from the edge and you’re thinking “maybe 6 feet ain’t so far down.” There’s a time when you feel yourself break in all sense of the word. Where emotions break free and you just drown in the everlasting tidal wave. The surge takes you under and holds you down until you can’t breathe. You can’t hold you’re breath anymore and all you can do is scream. There’s a time where that cliff that you’ve been on for so long decides it time. Time to start crumbling beneath your feet. And you feel the land give. Your knees buckle. And you’re falling. The time where that rage and hurt you’ve been holding on to for so long just bust loose. And its too late.

When it’s that time. You know it. And that’s when you…

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Act Now to Protect SSDI

Published February 12, 2015 by fotojennic

Kitt O'Malley

ACT NOW: Last night, I received this email from NAMI to ACT NOW to protect SSDI benefits:


Tell your Senators to protect Social Security Disability Insurance (SSDI) benefits! The Social Security Administration (SSA) has projected that without a reallocation of funds, the SSDI trust fund will not be able to pay full benefits within 2 years. Unless the Senate acts now, monthly cash SSDI benefits could be cut by as much as 19%.

Reallocation would mean a temporary shift of Social Security revenues to the SSDI fund reserves. This move will extend the SSDI fund for almost two decades, without cutting Social Security coverage, eligibility, or benefits – and without increasing taxpayer contributions.

Last month the House of Representatives passed a change in the rules that would create a budget “point of order” to prevent reallocating funds between Social Security trust funds. NAMI joined a…

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Anatomy Of An Eating Disorder

Published September 14, 2014 by fotojennic

Thought Catalog

“See?” I said indignantly, leaning over and pointing to my stomach. “I have rolls of fat!”

“Yeah, because you’re leaning over,” my friend said, rolling her eyes. “Everyone does when they do that.”

We were in seventh grade. I weighed 75 pounds.

“Step on the scale,” the doctor said. I had an eye infection. I didn’t understand why I needed to weigh myself, but I obliged. I never looked at the number. It was too scary.

“Do you remember what you weighed?” she asked me a little while later.

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I don’t think I even looked.”


I was 20 years old. I couldn’t remember the last time I had gotten a period.

There were stories of girls with eating disorders in magazines. I was a religious reader of Seventeen, CosmoGIRL!, and Teen Vogue. While I read a magazine, I could escape into…

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