I take great care in planning these things out so that my words are coherent and easy to follow – like a script that hits each point and connects to the next. Sometimes I fail at that and reads as a big embarrassing jumble of words that have no more of my heart in them than those tabloid sheets of news outlets – just utter and complete rubbish. Sometimes I succeed at putting just enough of myself into these things that it makes me smile to know that I am learning and hey, sharing is caring so I'm doing that too. But for those moments when I think about my failure to deliver my thoughts in a way that is suitable for this memoir I see that I must change. Not necessarily for the viewer but for myself. I should be more comfortable doing this. So I get to thinking...

Maybe...I shouldn't plan so much as I should just talk about my life – but here's the problem with that. On an intimate level, I am afraid to. I am afraid of the spotlight and often become all types of agreeable just to have things go smoothly so that the world doesn't see Tyronica the failure, Tyronica the terrible writer or plain old Tyronica. As much as I like plain old Tyronica, she can be a bit "strong" sometimes.

I had a friend tell me once after a conversation that I was the salt of the earth and then right behind it – that needs to be chased with the best Tequila. It took me awhile to get what he meant by that. As cheeky friends go, he is one for the books, always stirring up bits and pieces of trouble or shining that oh so crude and truthful light on people and their situations that you either love to have him in your company or hate him altogether. But I took what he said as – alone I am bitter and sour to take but paired with something (he used alcohol)...I am easy to take. Maybe he didn't mean it that way – but that's how I took it. I didn't bother to ask him to clarify the statement instead, I just giggled nervously and drank of my beverage which consisted more of the stronger 7 than the weaker 7. (7&7 = Seagram's 7 and 7Up) I was glad of that - anything to keep me from having to make a rebuttal or comment on the subject.

Swig and all your cares go away or you become sulky. My cares went away. I've had friends suggest that I drink when I write to mellow myself and rid myself of the anxiety that surrounds these things but you know what you get when you mix alcohol and anxiety....alcohol and anxiety – they don't mix. I don't need that. Besides I'm not really in the mood to drink and forcing it would ruin my day. I wouldn't really enjoy it.

As days go, today has been one that has left me quite torn. I've had doctor's appointments all week and meetings with fascinating people. I've even been interviewed in the writing group I'm in on my writing. Busy, busy, busy! The oncoming of so much activity produced some real anxiety in me this week and I had a mild panic attack. I got through it. There were the normal things – the heaviness of my heart, the invisible weight on my shoulders, the uncontrollable butterflies and the fuzz that covers my brain when I try to think of positive things. All rushed up on me – but in a milder way. I wasn't debilitated and bent over. I wasn't brought to my knees and crying huge tears out of fear of the feeling that I was going to die – because that's what you think, that you are near death. I was okay ...well not okay but far away from being in deep trouble.

I'm taking my time rather than rattle off a bunch of facts that no one really wants to read but maybe the facts as they pertain to my life. I found out recently that coffee can exacerbate anxiety and it upsets me. Anything with caffeine may have to go due to how I react to it with the anxiety. That means coffee, iced coffee, coffee flavored candy or chocolate covered coffee beans or coffee ice cream ...lol No chocolate cake, chocolate bars or chocolate candy for Valentine's Day. No dark tea for the times I need to be awake...just a lot of Nope. Which is supposed to translate into goodness but I just don't see how. How can people live without Pepsi or Snickers?! Are they mad?

As far as I'm concerned the whole world has lost its mind. New diseases are popping up, celebrities are "feuding" and no one really wants to hear the truth about the things that matter. Not that we're really ready for it – people would just as soon, hide their heads in the dirt than look up to the sky and see that the big ball of fire in the sky is growing closer to us. (Maybe not but you know what I mean – we'd rather not pay attention to that, we'd rather give in to all the bullshit around us than look at what really matters.)

I've known people like this my whole life – people who say and believe that if they don't see it, it doesn't exist or it didn't happen; some within my very own family. "Anxiety isn't real because I've never experienced it." "Depression is just an excuse for being weak and weakness is crap." "No such thing as a panic attack – it's just you being lazy and not wanting to do what needs to be done."

Funny...I've never seen these things as myths or things of convenience or even selective like some people's hearing and intelligence. They are true and real and in your face problems just any other issue we face in the world today. And people are so quick to degrade and downgrade the illness of a person because they don't understand it. Just like people have downgraded the illness of this country with its.....man...nevermind. My blood is boiling. When prejudice happens I have a hard time controlling myself. I just think that if those around us, stopped for just a moment and looked with their own eyes to see what's going on then we'd be a little better – understanding can be born of it.

Not every person that has ever spent the night in a behavioral health hospital is crazy. Life does some horrendous things to people. I know life isn't an entity – but living is hard on us all with all the things we have to deal with – some of us are just too sensitive to deal with it properly.

I heard my hairdresser talk about her experiencing going to a mental health facility because of her depression and I was with her until she said "They put me on the crazy pills so now I'm better." See...and it took me to calm down a moment before I could explain to her that she was wrong for saying that and what she was doing to herself and those around her. Not everyone who needs help is a serial killer or sociopath waiting to explode.

This week...for the first time since I've been seeing these doctors I got a full diagnosis of everything that I have been diagnosed with. The list is staggering and I have to tell you – as I told my psychiatrist, I should not be able to function as I do. There is no way that I should even be able to sit at this computer and type, no way I should be going places on my own, no way I should be making decisions all by myself – if I let the diagnosis tell it, I am incapable of even thinking, incapable period.

But you see – My God is good.

For everything he listed off and ran down there was a response of – but you're not doing that now.

Schizophrenia - but you're not doing that now

Paranoid delusions – but you're not doing that now

Bi- Polar disorder – but you don't have that (he keeps trying to give me this)

Anxiety – but it has decreased since you came

Psychosis – but you aren't displaying that anymore

Post Traumatic Distress – but you are working on that

Trauma – but you are working on that as well

And every time he got to the end, he'd look me in the face for good measure to see if I was reacting to it. Honey....I was sitting back in my chair shaking my head no. I know where my healing comes from. I know the man is just doing his job by recording what he sees in me to medical accuracy, I cannot fault him for that. But every time I was asked what I was doing differently, I said nothing. I have always been one who prays, one who seeks God in all things and believes in his healing. So I have done nothing different.

I keep writing to clear my mind.

I keep my appointments to talk about what is going on in my life and to get to the bottom of the problems that I have.

I keep my head high because I can see that better days await me.

These illnesses have destroyed lives. They threaten to undo mine but I know that I can get through it. I may lament on my situation, I may cry when I feel the blows coming in my direction but I will always depend on God.

Shortly before the appointment ended, he told me to keep up the good work. All of my doctors have said the same, "Keep up the good work." They are all pleased to see the progress I've made and I am glad to have surprised them.

For anyone living with, fighting through, suffering or cohabitating with these things – there is something you already know. You know that the last time you had an episode that you thought you weren't going to make it. You sat in your chair, on your bed, crouched in fetal position on the floor then cried your eyes out and saw your death as imminently as you see the sun shining every day. BUT...you didn't die. You survived.

You conqueror, you soldier, you warrior, you victor – you survived.

So now that we feel like we've got a handle on this - what now?