And then there's the other you. You guard that part of yourself fiercely because [logically] you know she's in need of help. She didn't ask for this. She's literally just sick and in need of medicine.
But she seems to be you more often than you are. And you're exhausted.
Years... decades.... when you finally ask for help you tell yourself you should have pushed through, or berate your own past self for letting it get this bad which you know makes no sense, but.
Somehow there's two of you. Common sense you. Logical you. The one that rarely wins
Mental illnesses are so fucked bc one day you’ll be like “wow maybe life is okay, maybe I can do this” and then the next day you’re like “wow I’ve never been more sure I’m incapable of functioning why don’t I just die” and that feeling continues for weeks/months it’s fuckin rough
If you want solidarity, empathy, compassion, understanding.....
Just know, I have it in spades, and if you read my point of view, you'll prolly feel much more capable and sane. You're welcome.
"The Cautionary Nature of My Love Life" by @vocal_creators https://t.co/IJ6xfUOmsI