Next appointment
Since you started
These only ever go up. Missing a day doesn't take anything away.
Last 14 days
Diagnosis is a starting point, not a sentence.
Daily check-in
Thirty seconds. Where are you today? Tracking it is how you catch a slide early — and how you notice you're climbing.
Recent check-ins · 0 total
Timeline
Your check-ins over time, with medication changes and appointments marked on the same line. Nothing here is interpreted for you — it's your own record, drawn out so patterns are visible.
What changed, and when
Once you've checked in for a couple of weeks — and added your medications with the date you started them — this is where you'll be able to see whether a change lined up with feeling better or worse.
My plan
The things that are easy to lose in the first weeks. Fill in what you know — you can change any of it later. None of this leaves your device.
Appointments
Add an appointment
Medications
Add a medication
The start date is optional — but it's what puts the medication on your timeline, which is the part a psychiatrist will actually want to see.
People I can call
Add a person
My early warning signs
The things that show up first, before it gets bad. Written on a calm day, for a day that isn't.
What keeps me well
Take this to your appointment
Builds a one-page summary you can print or save as PDF. You choose what goes on it. Nothing is sent anywhere — it's made on this device and it's yours to hand over, or not.
Your notes are private by default. Tick that box only if you want your clinician to read them.
What your diagnosis actually means
Plain terms, no jargon. This is a translation, not a diagnosis. Mark what applies to you — more than one is common, and it changes nothing about what you're worth.
Coping skills
Short, physical, proven. Learn them on a calm day so they show up on a bad one.
Practice
Nobody overcomes a diagnosis by osmosis. It takes reps — like training a muscle.
Goals matter — but only long enough to find the steps. Then forget the goal and take the steps. If you know where you're going, you'll get there, without asking "am I there yet" the whole ride.
When a voice or an intrusive thought shows up: it may seem real, but it isn't the one moving your legs when you walk. It isn't moving your arms. You are. So interrupt it — in your head or out loud — and log the rep here. Every time it tries to pull you back in, interrupt it again. Over weeks, this gets easier. That's not a promise; it's how practice works.
What one rep looks like
- Something intrusive shows up. A voice, a spiral, a "you always ruin everything." Or nothing at all — a calm moment works too.
- You interrupt it. In your head or out loud: "No thank you." You don't argue with it. You don't answer it.
- You go back to what your hands were doing. The dishes, the walk, the show. That's the skill — the return, not the fight.
- You press the button below. That's it. That's one rep. It took ten seconds and it counted.
One rep is nothing. A hundred reps is a habit. A thousand is how "everything's all right and I'm OK" starts being true.
Reps count even when nothing intrusive is happening — practicing on a calm day is the whole point.
For facilities
What Steady Rise is, for discharge plans, social workers, and clinical staff — in the same plain language the rest of the app uses.
The one thing a facility can know
That the patient signed onto the app. That's it. From that moment, everything they enter belongs to them alone. No dashboard, no report, no login to check, and no data coming back to the facility — ever. That's the selling point, not a limitation: patients use it precisely because nothing about them can be known.
The problem it's aimed at
The weeks after discharge are where plans fall apart. The follow-up appointment gets lost, the medication list lives on a crumpled printout, and the warning signs that were obvious on the unit are invisible at home. Steady Rise is built to be handed to a patient on the way out the door: it holds the appointment, the meds, the people to call, the early warning signs, and the coping skills — plus a thirty-second daily check-in and a way to practice interrupting intrusive thoughts.
Why patients can trust it
Everything stays on the patient's device. There is no account, no server, no analytics, and no way for anyone — including us — to read what they enter. That isn't a policy promise; it's how the app is built. For a population that has often been detained by the same institution offering them help, that distinction matters, and it's why patients keep using it.
What the clinician gets
The patient decides. Before an appointment, they can build a one-page summary on their own device — check-in history charted against medication changes, current med list, warning signs — and print it or hand it over. Journal notes are excluded by default; including them is an explicit opt-in. When notes are excluded, the printout says so: the clinician learns the notes exist without reading them.
What it deliberately does not do
- No risk scoring. No algorithm decides someone is in danger — the app reports facts and a human decides what they mean.
- No streaks. Missing a day — a relapse, a bad week, a readmission — never takes anything away.
- No chatbot, no sentiment analysis of what patients write.
- No adherence signal to the facility. A future, opt-in version may offer a light appointment signal — attended or missed, nothing more — only with the patient's signed consent and a named escalation path. Today there is none, by design.
Where it fits
Steady Rise is a general wellness and self-management tool. It doesn't diagnose, treat, or monitor, and it isn't a medical device. It's the thing that goes home with the patient so the plan you built together survives the first month.
Interested in making Steady Rise part of your discharge plans? Site licensing conversations are welcome — it installs from the browser in under a minute, and there's nothing to integrate.