Ann Roselle

I recalled being told to sit tight in the day room all day and behave in lieu of walking peacefully to get some exercise and stretch my legs. I recalled fighting with staff over all-encompassing body wash products that were making my hair fall out. It was an argument to be allowed to wear a ponytail.

I always believed that police used lethal violence to control citizens only as a last resort. Now it’s clear that they are jumping to it without fear — and without repercussion for their actions.
Do I believe all law enforcement acts this way? Of course not. But why do we so often see departments rally around and protect the bad apples?

We parents always get caught up in our children’s delightful personalities and try to predict future careers. I have no doubt this little activist/politico has a bright future ahead of him making a difference for a lot of people, since he has more than made a difference for me.

Here is the kicker. I am human. I treasure mental stability above all else. Therefore, I take my medications daily and sleep first. So what is a gal to do when my lifestyle is beginning to prohibit proper self-care? What tools can one find in their toolbox to really make time to ensure whole body care in addition to the mind?

I worry so much with every mood episode, with every burst of rage, every down day, every fit of tears that I am scarring my children. I worry that I am causing them irreparable emotional harm. You see, my children are young. They do not fully comprehend that their mother has a chronic mental illness.

I was incapable of feeling. I could not show all the love and promise my heart held for those boys. Once I returned and started feeling better, we had to cope with a new challenge: mania and the onset of bipolar disorder.

When one has a mental illness and thrives under routine and consistency, change can be akin to a four-letter word. For me, that is certainly the case. I loathe change.