On Cory Monteith's death: 4 things I've learned about addiction

FREE IMAGES

More than a week has passed since the sudden and untimely death of Glee star Cory Monteith. I've been debating how I wanted to -- or even if I wanted to -- address his death on So About What I Said. As more and more information comes to the surface, it seems as though everyone has an opinion, and I wondered if I could even add anything worthwhile to the already crowded conversation.

But then I realized the important value of speaking up. Because where taboo topics like these are concerned, not being a voice in the conversation is far worse than keeping things to yourself. And besides, addiction is something that hits very close to home for me. I've seen it take over loved ones, and unfortunately, have seen the heartbreaking wreckage it leaves in its wake. For better or for worse -- some days, I'm not sure which one -- addiction has touched me and changed me, just like it's touched and changed millions of people's lives around the world. So in the spirit of sharing, here are four things I've learned about addiction...

Addiction is an evil beast
Addiction is insidious. It sneaks up on you, and sometimes, you don't even see it coming. And, it has this tricky little habit of disguising itself as something beautiful, something you need -- maybe even something innocent. It lures you in and makes you believe that it's something you can't live without. Until, well, you really can't live without it. It's got a mind of its own. It knows all your weaknesses and pounces on them every chance it gets. It knows all the right words to say and makes sure those are the only words you actually listen to.

Addiction not only affects you...it affects everyone around you
This is the lesson I've learned all too well over the years. Addiction is a family disease, one made up of sleepless nights, pleas and lots of worrying. Because addiction is like a pebble thrown into the sea: The ripple effect can be felt for miles as addiction tries to get its tentacles around everyone and everything it possibly can. You wonder how you all got to this point. You wonder what the future will hold. And sometimes, you're even scared of the future. You'd do anything in your power to help your loved one, but eventually, you realize...

Addiction needs boundaries
You can't live for someone else. You can't let someone else's addiction control your life. You need to establish some firm boundaries -- and stick to them. It's so important to take care of yourself. This can be the most difficult thing in the world to do. Trust me, it's so easy to become enmeshed in someone else's disease, especially if you think you can solve all their problems, but that's just it. Ultimately, it's not your problem. It's not your disease. Of course, you can be there for support, but at the end of the day, the road to recovery has to be walked by the person facing the addiction.

Addiction doesn't have to mean a death sentence
There is help out there. Lots of it, actually. And unlike years ago, there is less of a stigma associated with addiction these days. There's no shame in admitting you need help. In fact, asking for help shows far more strength than trying to battle it all on your own. Taking the first step is painful, but it's necessary.

If you've been affected by addiction, friends, what other lessons would you add to the list? What helped you? And if you're still in the throes of it, whether you're suffering or know someone who is, my heart is with you. xoxo

[Photos via We Heart It]

An Open Letter To Amanda Bynes

FREE IMAGES Dear Amanda:

I'm not going to beat around the bush here. Instead, I'll just get right to the point, because I think you deserve at least that: You've had a pretty rough time of it lately. You know this. I know this. It seems like practically everyone knows this. We've all seen your life play out in a series of tweets and headlines that leave everyone scratching their heads and questioning every move you make and every word you say. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't guilty of this at least a time or two, but this letter is not about that. It's most definitely not about that. Unlike those tabloids, I'm not going to come charging at you -- full-speed ahead and full of accusations and speculations -- because, like I said, I think you deserve a bit more respect than that. I'd simply like to give you some things to think about, things that I would want someone to tell me if I were in your shoes...

You're a powerful person 
Own that and use it for good. I've always admired your girl-next-door vibe ever since your All That days. You were cool and laid back, and you could tell that people really responded to that. And people still respond to that, nearly 20 years later. It's such a rare trait in Hollywood, so it's no surprise to see messages from your fans on Twitter -- messages of support from a team of people pulling for you. Use this opportunity to be the awesome role model I remember.

Take health into own hands
There's nothing wrong with admitting you need help. People have this idea in their heads that asking for help is the ultimate sign of weakness, but really, reaching out is the ultimate sign of strength. It shows that you're human, and there's nothing weak about being human. When I went through my scary depression, I was so thankful to have people around me who wanted to help, people who didn't make me feel like I was weak or like what I was going through was somehow my fault. I'm not sure I could have gotten better without those people in my life.

Because, when all is said and done, we all need someone in our corner, don't we? When it comes down to it, we can't get through this crazy world alone. And we're just kidding ourselves if we try or if we think we can. We need people cheering us on. We need people telling us it's going to be OK when it feels like everything is crumbling down around us. We just need people who get us and love us, no pretenses and no questions asked. I hope you'll reach out to those people. They want to help you. If only you'll let them... xoxo

[Photos via We Heart It and Le Love]

Tracking my mood: The results

FREE IMAGES

Last Monday, I decided to do a fun little experiment and track my mood for an entire week. For as long as I can remember, I've kept a journal as a way of making sense of my emotions and trying to understand them. I'd write pages and pages of prose, full of grand detail -- and yes, a bit of dramatic detail during those teen years. But the idea of stripping it all away -- all the excess words and descriptions and dramatic teenage-angst monologues -- in favor of something more succinct was intriguing, so when I discovered MoodHacker, that little metaphorical light bulb went off over my head. Ah! I was in. That's my rating, above, on the first day...

...and here are some of my activities I checked off during the week. I really liked how you could check off what you did each day, and those activities would be factor into your overall mood chart...

...my mood chart looked like this by the end of the week. It's pretty much what I expected, and the rational scientist in me loves seeing a sort of mathematical representation of something as abstract as my emotions and feelings. It makes everything feel a bit more manageable.

So, friends, did you track your mood for the past week? What were your results like? Were they what you expected? Why or why not? Will you keep tracking your mood in the future? I just might keep mine going... xoxo

Let's Try: Tracking our mood for one week

FREE IMAGES

During my battle with depression a couple years ago, my therapist extolled the benefits of keeping a mood journal. Every day, you should write down how you're feeling and rate your mood on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being "I feel so depressed that I can't even get out of bed" to 10 being "I feel great; what's depression again?" In a time when it was hard to even understand my emotions from one day to the next, putting a number to my feelings really helped to put things in focus.

If only I'd known about MoodHacker back then. The free site lets you track your mood and offers mood-boosting tips and techniques. You can also see daily, weekly and monthly summaries to get the big picture. I thought it would be fun to track my mood over the course of a week. Want to join me? Here's what I'm thinking: Simply sign up to get started tracking your mood. Then come back every day to rate your mood. I'll be sharing my results next Monday, but for now, here's how my day #1 is shaping up...

What do you think, friends? Are you game? This should be quite interesting... xoxo

New Feature: My Father's Suicide

FREE IMAGES

As I mentioned last week, this year marks 10 years since my father committed suicide. Even now, just typing that sentence makes me do a double-take -- sort of like that feeling you get when you're jolted awake from a nightmare at 3 a.m., and have to just lie still to catch your bearings for a few minutes because, for a split second, you forget where you are. You know you're in your bed, but for some reason, nothing looks familiar.

 

And then, the horrific details of the nightmare start coming back -- slowly at first, but faster as you remember more details. You know it was all a dream, but it seemed so real, as if you could reach out and touch it.

Well, friends, that's how this milestone anniversary has been for me so far. The only difference between my father's suicide and a bad dream is that his suicide is, well, all too real. And if I've learned anything in the last 10 years, it's that there's no "waking" up from the suicide of a loved one. You can't escape it. You can't run away from it. You can't hide it. Of course, you can try doing all these things, but you won't be able to keep up the pace for very long. Eventually, your emotions will catch up with you.

I've been thinking long and hard about the 10-year mark and how I want to process it and write about it. The more I think about things, the more I realize that my emotions probably won't be following a cute little time table this year. Sure, I could write about it on the actual anniversary -- March 10th -- and be done with it, never speaking of it for the rest of the year. But when you think about it, emotions don't work that way. You can't compartmentalize something so abstract.

 

So, in the name of continual self expression, I thought it would be a good idea to have a specific place to write about all the emotions that come up regarding my father's suicide -- all year long. As you know, my emotions have run the gamut in the past -- everything from anger to sadness to confusion. And guess what? All those varying emotions, I've learned, are healthy. They're all part of the process, and I'm equally excited (Is that the right word?) to see how my emotions will morph and change throughout the year.

What do you think, friends? Is there something specific you'd like to see me write about? Do you have any questions? You can read more about my father and my journey following his death here, here, here, here and here. xoxo