by Keely Carney. When I was 22, I found myself in rehab. Years of daily blackout drinking and a crippling case of alcoholism will do that. But I wasn’t just in rehab because I struggled with alcoholism. I was in rehab because I struggled with life. Like most people battling mental illness, my story was complex. I’d dealt with depression. I’d dabbled in eating disorders. I’d spent the majority of my life feeling deeply uncomfortable in my skin and in this world. So there I was. While most of my classmates were preparing to graduate college, I was livin’ it up in rehab. At this particular rehab, livin’ it up included going on weekly hikes. Even though it was January. In Connecticut. And snowing. Nothing like forcing someone who’s already uncomfortable all the time to get more uncomfortable… And it was. My first hike was deeply uncomfortable.

by Leo Walker. Today would be my mom’s birthday. As kids growing up, it was obvious to us that there was something different about her. I tell people she had schizophrenia although strictly speaking I never heard that diagnosis said. In fact, I never heard any specific explanation for her unusual and at times frightening behavior. My dad was a very private person and felt things like that were best not talked about, even within the family.