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Part 2 follows Mackenzie Robbins through abuse, psychosis, hospitalization, and the search for answers. It is a deeply personal account of receiving a schizophrenia diagnosis, navigating recovery, and learning to build a life beyond labels and assumptions.

One of the most common misconceptions about emotional abuse is the belief that it should be obvious. People often imagine that if they were being emotionally abused, they would immediately recognize it. They assume there would be a clear moment when the relationship crossed a line. A specific incident. A dramatic realization. An unmistakable warning sign. Unfortunately, reality is rarely that simple. Many people who later identify a relationship as emotionally abusive describ

Over the years, people have asked me where many of my ideas about mental health, addiction, recovery, human services, and institutional systems actually come from. The answer is definitely NOT social media. They came from decades working inside these systems — but also from reading researchers, psychologists, sociologists, philosophers, trauma experts, recovery thinkers, anthropologists, cult researchers, and people willing to ask uncomfortable questions about power, identity

For decades, I’ve lived inside the mental health system. Not just as a professional. Not just as an observer. But as someone who has had to navigate it from the inside - where the policies, labels, and decisions become personal. Over the past nine years, I worked toward a Doctor of Education in Health Services Administration. On paper, that’s the milestone. But what it really represents is something else: Time spent studying the system from both sides - living it, working in

I survived living in a cult for four years during my early 20s, but it definitely fucked me up pretty bad. When people hear the word cult, they picture robed figures in the woods, doomsday bunkers, or Jonestown horror stories. But cults don’t always wear hoods or drink Kool-Aid. Some wear lab coats. Some run self-help seminars. Some call themselves families, churches, or recovery programs. Some even operate in boardrooms, yoga studios, or Zoom calls. The truth is: cults come

I myself survived living in the cult of The Seed for four years until I escaped at 24 years old. At 60, although I have many accomplishments, I STILL suffer night terrors and panic attacks, bouts of depersonalization, and never let anyone get close to me. They said they were saving lives. That’s how the “tough love” movement sold itself—on promises of discipline, structure, and salvation. These programs promised to fix your kid, straighten out your spouse, pull you or your lo