Tamar Saperstein

If you're a woman, in or near your forties, and a perpetual people-pleaser, I have good news for you! You're about to enter a new stage of psychological wisdom and maturity. The people-pleasing that ate away at your sanity is going to become a thing of the past.

When I was first married, I found myself constantly suffering from painful and awful vaginal and urinary tract infections. The doctor prescribed the same regimen of antibiotics for each type of infection. I’d heartily suffer through the weeklong course of medication, awaiting my pain and itch-free days to come, as the antibiotics worked their magic.

I was haggard, exhausted, and feeling hopeless. "When are my kids ever going to be normal?" I felt deep down it would never happen.

Life happens. It’s a reality we all face. We all have unique personal challenges and stresses. However, it doesn’t mean that we have to go through life constantly feeling stressed or unhappy. Good mental health takes work and conscious thought. Here are some tips to create better mental health.

The symptoms of borderline personality disorder and bipolar disorder can often overlap. Understanding the difference is a first step in getting proper care for them and yourself, and being able to better relate to each other.

I was the last generation fortunate enough to have personally known survivors of the Holocaust.

In less than two years, I went from the fast-paced life of having a full-time job, while attending graduate school and going out with my friends at night, to being married and a full-time stay-at-home mother. My life took a sudden 180-degree turn, and at times felt like it was standing still.

"How could I truly know after only two years, whether my marriage could just be a mistake?"

Is it just me, or is our society’s youth today really struggling with respect? I’ve worked with kids for years and I’ve got three children of my own. Things that didn’t fly when I was a kid (and that wasn’t so long ago!) are either ignored or let go. An example: I’d never even dream of calling my teachers or parents by their first name.

There was no reason why I should have miscarried, or so I thought. I found a thousand reasons to blame myself. Had I gotten enough rest? Was I getting enough nutrition? As my mind searched for answers and concocted a thousand reasons as to why this happened to me, I started to slowly fall into a depression.