Mental health is a funny thing - because sometimes it's hard to tell if your brain is broken, or just heartbroken.

I'm a very intense person, which means I feel things very intensely, and I also put myself in that situation very intense situation - which often times have very intense consequences, but if you put your entire life out there than your entire life is up for speculation, for gossip, for rumors - for people talking about you, and not to you.

One day when I was in the thick of it, I was talking to someone when they asked me if I'd ever tried medication? Which was a battle I had with myself for years, I come from a long line of mental illness cocktails, and no stranger to the idea of turning to a doctor for a remedy - I strongly believe that, with the right diagnosis, and the right prescription, that medication can be life-changing, life saving even.

But I didn't feel imbalanced - I didn't feel like my darkest came from Disconnected Brain Receptors or Stifel Serotonin - My darkness came, because some blew out my candle.

My darkness came from years of failed relationships, and self-doubt, self-pity, and the fear that the genes that made my mother yell all the time, and my father drink all the time - maybe they weren’t recessive, and maybe the reason - that no one could love me - it’s just because I just wasn’t lovable - And what was the perception for that?

“Can you medicate a broken heart?”